Yes, it's been a while, but I've had a good reason. My wife and I have successfully caught up on Lost from its beginnings. If you're not watching it, it must surely be because you've just not gotten around to it. It is by far one of the two best television shows in the history of the boob tube (along, of course, with 24).
No, I've not posted the book list yet. I suppose I could just post the titles and let you sift it out. Had I gone through the list in December when there was more time . . . but alas! the lamenting restores nothing but faith in the fact that I'm talking about it. So, here are the titles, in no pre-determined order:
Jane Eyre – Charlotte Bronte
Blue Like Jazz – Donald Miller*
Through Painted Deserts – Donald Miller
The Da Vinci Code – Dan Brown*
The Gospel of Mary of Magdala – Karen L. King
Heart of Darkness – Joseph Conrad
The Engendering God – Carl and Susan Raschke
The Hobbit – J.R.R. Tolkien
Climbing Mt. Cheaha – Various
Facing the Music – Larry Brown*
The Catcher in the Rye – J.D. Salinger*
Dispatches from the Edge – Anderson Cooper*
The Last of the Mohicans – James Fenimore Cooper
Hannah Fowler – Janice Holt Giles
Shane – Jack Schaefer
Sackett’s Land – Louis L’Amour
Slow Learner – Thomas Pynchon*
Billy Ray’s Farm – Larry Brown
An Hour Before Daylight – Jimmy Carter
When God Was a Woman – Merlin Stone*
Mrs. Dalloway – Virginia Woolf
Ulysses (in progress) – James Joyce
Father and Son (in progress) - Larry Brown
Fantomina – Eliza Haywood
My Ántonia – Willa Cather
Everything You Always Wanted to Know About God – Eric Metaxes
Sundance Choice: Short Stories of the American South - Various
Big Bad Love (in progress) – Larry Brown
The Study of American Folklore – Harold Brunvand
The Pursuit of History – John Tosh
Heritage and Challenge: The History and Theory of History – Paul Conkin and Roland Stromberg
Proverbs
Joshua
Judges
Ruth
1 Samuel
2 Samuel
1 Kings
* - Get your tail off the internet and to the nearest bookstore to read this one! It's been waiting on you.
Maybe I'll comment later on a few of them. For now, I'm hungry and I want some breakfast.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Thursday, December 21, 2006
The '06 Book List
It's been far too long since I've posted, I know.
This is just a quick note to inform you of the upcoming '06 book list. I've got a couple I plan to finish before the new year begins. Either way, there are almost 30 books I read in 2006, and you'll be able to get a quick review here on Negatives very soon.
If you haven't yet read last year's list click here to peruse the reviews posted back in January.
j
This is just a quick note to inform you of the upcoming '06 book list. I've got a couple I plan to finish before the new year begins. Either way, there are almost 30 books I read in 2006, and you'll be able to get a quick review here on Negatives very soon.
If you haven't yet read last year's list click here to peruse the reviews posted back in January.
j
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Eruditionis
"Capitalism is the astounding belief that the most wickedest of men will do the most wickedest of things for the greatest good of everyone."
- John Maynard Keynes
“Advocates of capitalism are very apt to appeal to the sacred principles of liberty, which are embodied in one maxim: The fortunate must not be restrained in the exercise of tyranny over the unfortunate.”
- Bertrand Russell
“In the Soviet Union, capitalism triumphed over communism. In this country, capitalism triumphed over democracy.”
- Franz Lebowitz
“Capitalism has destroyed our belief in any effective power but that of self interest backed by force.”
- George Bernard Shaw
“Fascism is capitalism plus murder.”
- Upton Sinclair
“This American system of ours, call it Americanism, call it capitalism, call it what you will, gives each and every one of us a great opportunity if we only seize it with both hands and make the most of it.”
- Al Capone
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Mas jugo, por favor
I reminisce about the smallest things sometimes.
Yesterday, I made breakfast for Karen since it was her first day off in quite a while. It wasn’t anything spectacular, just a warm bowl of maple-sugar oatmeal, some cinnamon toast, a juice-glass of grape juice (she likes it), and a juice glass of chocolate milk. I had it all laid out on the dining room table on a gold-colored place mat which lie adjacent to my own on which was my bowl of Cheerios and some cinnamon toast. I drank coffee.
As I was preparing the whole thing, I got to thinking about how Karen laughs at some of the necessary food combinations I make. By “necessary” I mean that it is imperative to me that certain foods be served together. I can’t fathom fish sticks without macaroni and cheese. It’s like shoes and socks to me; there’s no point in separating them, it’ll just give you blisters. I don’t understand pizza without chips and cheese dip. I know it’s a mixture of cultural cuisines, but it still makes all kinds of sense to me. Grilled cheese sandwiches have been married to bowls of tomato soup for longer than I’ve been living. Oreos need milk. Ice cream is unbearable without a cup of water. These things just go together for me.
I was smiling yesterday morning because I couldn’t grasp a lone juice glass on a breakfast spread. Mom always had two for us (my brother and me). I figure it was a plot to get us to drink at least one of the liquids set before us because I do remember a stipulation of going through one to get to another, or not being able to vacate the premises until both glasses’ contents were emptied of all but backwash.
Karen didn’t say anything about my having provided her with two drinks. In fact, she guzzled them both and appreciated my loving, ante meridiem gesture. Either way, however, I remembered and smiled.
It’s funny how your mind can be therapy enough; especially with a great family.
Saturday, October 07, 2006
Barbarian Arbors
Fall is blowing in now.
Leaves fall.
I pray.
One particular season may not manifest itself as the finest ever experienced, but it has to have its time. It has to do what it does. Then it will leave and another will replace it. And it’s in the midst of the change that the natural skirmish renders man helpless to its effects. Hopeless for any chance to reverse its effects and become what it once was. It’ll have its chance again next year.
Under this hickory, I can hear the wind whisper where it’s been. I never hear it say where it’s going. Mindless gibberish filled with erratic fluctuations in pitch fill the air as the branches interpret what I never could have heard without them. And, I wait.
I wait to hear if the wind ever speaks of me.
My questions are many and people have been no help. Surely in this ever-repeating cycle the wind has learned something or seen another like me.
So, I listen.
Nothing.
It probably couldn’t have known the difference between cheeks like mine and mine. I’m troubled by things that do not torment the wind.
Monday, September 11, 2006
American Idol Update
Well, it was a fun run!
Here’s how the weekend went:
Karen and I arrived in Jackson, Tennessee, on Friday evening in time to eat supper at Los Portales with David, Pam, B & B, Mom, Bill Baldy, and little Gary Roeder (Kevin and Holly’s son). I do believe that I must eat Mexican food 3 – 5 times a week in order to function correctly!
We left and enjoyed a stroll at Wal-Mart and a reminiscent drive through Henderson talking about houses we’d either lived in or liked. At the Lynch home we enjoyed cookies and home movies, and then drove to Casey and April’s to say hello.
When we woke on Saturday, I had no idea that we had slept until almost 10 a.m.! The bed was so comfortable, the room was dark because it was on the western side of the house, and it was slightly overcast. I think we could have slept longer!
After morning hugs and hellos I received a peculiar admonition from Mom: “When you see the car, son, remember that this is a ‘once-in-a-lifetime’ event for us, too.”
With eyebrows raised I stepped to the storm-door and beheld a beautifully vandalized mini-van. “Beale Street or Bust!”, “Alabama Idol on Board!”, and “I Love Joey” are the only phrases I can remember that were written on the windows in window-paint white though there were a few more. I knew then the hopes I’d had of keeping this thing low-key were A.W.O.L. and most likely would not return.
Pam had stayed up the night before making a wonderful breakfast casserole and a cheese dish that begged you to have seconds. Karen and I enjoyed the meal while reading the large poster board signs boasting that I was my family’s American Idol and how much they loved me. It was all so overwhelming.
Before we loaded up in the “limo’” (Pam’s van), Candice, Thomas, April, Casey, Colby, and Gabby all stopped by to wish me luck and pass out hugs and encouragement. I know we can’t afford it right now, nor do we have the time, but seeing all those sweet babies makes me look at my beautiful wife with visions of little versions of ourselves.
After Mom played a couple of my songs on the van’s CD-player, we took pictures and took off.
Cars on all sides of us from Henderson to the Peabody honked, waved, smiled, and broke their necks attempting to read the van’s exclamations. The passing strangers had no idea that their ogling excited us as much as anything we’d experienced so far.
When we finally arrived at the Peabody, mom directed Pam to drive into the hotel’s parking deck where we were stopped by guards.
“This lot is only for people with reservations,” the black lady stated (I think she’s quite proud of her job). “Do you have reservations?”
“Yes,” mom replied, “Mustain.”
“Debra?” the lady said after a second of looking through her long list of the privileged.
“Yes.”
“Of course, go through this gate and . . .”
It felt good. Our family has been on a lot of lists, but this is one of the first times I can recall being on an exclusive list of people who were staying at the nicest hotel in the entire city of Memphis. My parents are wonderful!
Once we parked, I began to anticipate looking a little strange. You see, we’d packed in normal luggage for the most part (there were a couple Big Star sacks floating around, though they were not the rule), but one thing stuck out like a Bentley at a Waffle House – a shiny, gray and white, 20” box fan; the staple of any sleeping member of my family. We were about to walk in to the posh and historic Peabody Hotel with a box fan. It was awesome!
We settled in to the room, drank the complimentary water, executed the token running leap onto the bed, and rested. Lulled by the melodious tones of Fred Sanford on the TV, we must have napped for about an hour before we decided to try to see the famous "March of the Ducks" and hit the town.
It was far too crowded to actually see the ducks. In truth, we missed them, but we can at least say that we were present.
We stepped out of the hotel onto Grand Avenue and were met by a cavalry of carriages and a tidal wave of the sweet smell of ribs and Bar-B-Q, the natural aroma of the Memphis air. After promising a carriage owner that we would return to take him up on his offer, we hiked to Beale Street to take in the Blues culture.
We walked a few city blocks and stumbled upon the legendary thoroughfare in all its music, food, and wanderers. Quite a crowd had already gathered. We passed a man creating dream-like scenes of fantasy using only spray-paint. Guitars, singing, drums, laughter. The undulating crowd was going everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
Hunger pangs dictated our next destination: The Hard Rock Café.
At the foot of boots worn and signed by Rufus Thomas and to the right of a shirt worn by Adam Levine of Maroon 5, we enjoyed our meal (I had nachos, of course) and watched Tennessee whip California (yee-haw!), and heard about the Braves hard loss to the Phillies (grr! What a frustrating season this has been!).
We left full and walked to Coyote Ugly so Pam and Mom could have their picture taken in front of the sign like the rebels they are, then headed back to the hotel and mounted a white carriage decorated with Christmas lights, tinsel, and patriotically themed ornaments. Memaw, you would have loved it.
The night air was perfect. The breeze danced on our faces and the sights flirted with our minds as we gazed upon the beautiful parks and architecture of the city.
We returned to the hotel to see everything we’d just seen one more time, but this time from above on the roof of the Peabody. The elevator took us to the floor marked “S” which held the Duck Palace and one of the most spectacular views of the nighttime skyline.
After pictures and phone calls, we retired to the room, played a couple hands of Texas Hold ‘Em, and began to prepare for the morning.
. . .
The prize for the Alabama Idol competition was nice, but I didn’t like it at first. I thought that the winner got a guaranteed audition with Paula, Simon, and Randy, but we found out that it was actually a “Fast-Pass” of sorts. I was a bit disappointed, and it wasn’t until this past weekend that I realized how valuable it actually was.
In Birmingham, Karen and I waited in the registration line from 4:30 a.m. until 8:30 a.m. We returned to the audition line two days later at 5:00 a.m. and weren’t seated in the BJCC until almost 9:00 a.m. By the time I auditioned that day, we had collected almost 8 hours of waiting in line! Not so in Memphis. Thanks, Alabama Idol!
I didn’t have to be at the FedExForum until 7:00 a.m. on Sunday, and since Mom and Dad got such a great hotel, we only had about a 5 minute walk to get there. I think I finally fell out of bed around 5:45 or 6:00 a.m. on Sunday the 3rd. After a quick shower and a shave (my head), we walked out the door and Mom and I arrived at the venue about ten minutes early.
The line was magnificent! They said it was the biggest audition turn-out this season at almost 16,000 contestants! You can double that since everyone was allowed to bring in one guest. At the time of audition, I was on the floor surrounded by well over 30,000 people. My quote in the Jackson Sun was accurate – it was quite unnerving!
Mom and I were taken inside the doors to the lobby well before the line was allowed to enter. We were among several who had won similar prizes from affiliate stations in other states.
It was here that we found that we weren’t totally exempt from waiting. In the lobby we waited for about 3 hours or so before we were taken below to the floor of the arena, but 3 hours versus 8? We’ll take 3 any day of the week!
Karen, Pam, B & B faithfully waited outside in their fold-out chairs holding their signs and watching the crowd of strangers, hopefuls, and weirdoes pass into the future. Karen and I called each other several times and passed love signals through the window from a distance, and after the crowd had waned they packed up and went back to the hotel to catch a few more moments in their heavenly beds.
Mom and I were eventually called about 10:00 or 10:30 a.m. to the corridor that took us down below. She had to leave me since the guests weren’t allowed to go where we were going. After hugs and encouragement she returned to the lobby and snuck in the arena to watch from above.
I waited in another little line before walking on the floor to audition, and then we lined up to sing.
There were 14 tables lined up with black, cloth-curtain dividers between each. Two judges sat at each table and four people lined up in front. At any given time there were 96 people auditioning, fourteen people singing, and 30,000+ people in the seats talking, singing, shouting, laughing, cheering, and waiting. That’s quite an obstacle.
It was then that I realized something I’d not thought before: the producers are not looking for great singers at this point in the auditioning! They can’t be! You can’t hear whether or not they can sing. Instead, they’re looking for personalities. “Will this person standing before me, whom I cannot hear, make a good show if the television is on and the sound is muted or there’s too much going on in the room to hear the music?”
Six people sang before me then I was up. I sang my song, Eric Benet’s version of the Kansas song “Dust in the Wind,” and she, the judge, stopped me to go to the next person. I thought I had failed again, and that was okay with me, but then she sparked a moment’s hope that I hadn’t anticipated. She asked me to sing a second song! I perked up with the bridge of Brian McKnight’s “Back at One” and tried to sing my heart out. She stopped me.
I did my best. I wasn’t chosen. That is 100% of all I can do, and I am satisfied.
. . .
I left the arena, found Mom, who already knew, and we marched our recessional to the sounds of phone calls all around us. People were calling home, friends, and spouses telling of their fate. I was no different. I called Karen who consoled me so sweetly. We called Dad and Shane who did the same. And we walked.
We entered the hotel just in time to see everyone leaving the scene of the ducks marching. We’d missed it twice. It’s okay.
When the elevator opened on the tenth floor, the girls were ready and waiting with the luggage and the fan. Hugs and consolation ensued and I appreciated every bit of it. It’s wonderful how something as simple as a hug can be so warm and perfect when you need it (and even when you don’t).
Karen held me a while and we all walked onto the elevator speaking of how we’d not be watching the show this year and how mad the whole process made us, but really, I was fine.
We loaded up, made a quick stop at Graceland to take a couple pictures and see the spoils of fame, then went to The Olive Garden to enjoy some grease, cheese, bread, and fat. It was almost as comforting as the hugs.
Most of the van slept on the way home. We were worn out mentally and physically. Poor Pam was just tired as any of us, but she had to drive. Thanks, Pam!
Back at the Lynch house in Henderson we sat on the couches and talked and watched some video footage of the weekend. The news showed some of the Memphis auditions, but the reporters were far more excited about it than we were. It was great, but we were beginning to realize that it would have still been one of the most memorable weekends of our lives had we re-done everything and deleted the auditions. Well . . . maybe not.
We held a devotional in the living room and took communion. That was wonderful. I love to worship with my family. Then we finished the weekend together almost exactly as it began – at a Mexican restaurant. We watched UK fall hard at the feet of Louisville, heard that the Braves had beaten the Phillies, and relived the weekend while smiling at acquaintances who came to eat there as well.
Afterward, we left for Casey and April’s to drown our sorrow in Texas Hold ‘Em and Oreo Cookies.
Karen and I left Henderson around 10:30 p.m. to head home. We sang, talked about the weekend, planned for the future and stared at the headlight-lit pavement as it slid beneath us like a treadmill. We marveled each time we saw deer by the road. We saw almost twenty by the time we had lain our heads on our pillows.
In one weekend’s time, I realized that I was a celebrity to my family. I didn’t need some desperate show to validate myself (though I don’t guess I would have turned it down). I was valid. I am valid. I come from years upon years of faithful Christians, solid marriages, loving households, and fine citizens. We celebrate birthdays and holidays together, and since Heaven is more wonderful than we can comprehend, then we’ll surely celebrate the day we all walk in together. And you’d better believe that one of us will be toting a box fan!
I needed all of you to find out what I needed for eternity in a wife and that’s how I knew Karen was who I needed for the rest of my life. She has been and always will be the most incredible answer to my family’s and my prayers.
I am not worthy of any of this, but I vow to you all and to God to live the rest of my life in gratitude for it.
Thank you for all of your prayers and support. I am among all men most blessed.
Here’s how the weekend went:
Karen and I arrived in Jackson, Tennessee, on Friday evening in time to eat supper at Los Portales with David, Pam, B & B, Mom, Bill Baldy, and little Gary Roeder (Kevin and Holly’s son). I do believe that I must eat Mexican food 3 – 5 times a week in order to function correctly!
We left and enjoyed a stroll at Wal-Mart and a reminiscent drive through Henderson talking about houses we’d either lived in or liked. At the Lynch home we enjoyed cookies and home movies, and then drove to Casey and April’s to say hello.
When we woke on Saturday, I had no idea that we had slept until almost 10 a.m.! The bed was so comfortable, the room was dark because it was on the western side of the house, and it was slightly overcast. I think we could have slept longer!
After morning hugs and hellos I received a peculiar admonition from Mom: “When you see the car, son, remember that this is a ‘once-in-a-lifetime’ event for us, too.”
With eyebrows raised I stepped to the storm-door and beheld a beautifully vandalized mini-van. “Beale Street or Bust!”, “Alabama Idol on Board!”, and “I Love Joey” are the only phrases I can remember that were written on the windows in window-paint white though there were a few more. I knew then the hopes I’d had of keeping this thing low-key were A.W.O.L. and most likely would not return.
Pam had stayed up the night before making a wonderful breakfast casserole and a cheese dish that begged you to have seconds. Karen and I enjoyed the meal while reading the large poster board signs boasting that I was my family’s American Idol and how much they loved me. It was all so overwhelming.
Before we loaded up in the “limo’” (Pam’s van), Candice, Thomas, April, Casey, Colby, and Gabby all stopped by to wish me luck and pass out hugs and encouragement. I know we can’t afford it right now, nor do we have the time, but seeing all those sweet babies makes me look at my beautiful wife with visions of little versions of ourselves.
After Mom played a couple of my songs on the van’s CD-player, we took pictures and took off.
Cars on all sides of us from Henderson to the Peabody honked, waved, smiled, and broke their necks attempting to read the van’s exclamations. The passing strangers had no idea that their ogling excited us as much as anything we’d experienced so far.
When we finally arrived at the Peabody, mom directed Pam to drive into the hotel’s parking deck where we were stopped by guards.
“This lot is only for people with reservations,” the black lady stated (I think she’s quite proud of her job). “Do you have reservations?”
“Yes,” mom replied, “Mustain.”
“Debra?” the lady said after a second of looking through her long list of the privileged.
“Yes.”
“Of course, go through this gate and . . .”
It felt good. Our family has been on a lot of lists, but this is one of the first times I can recall being on an exclusive list of people who were staying at the nicest hotel in the entire city of Memphis. My parents are wonderful!
Once we parked, I began to anticipate looking a little strange. You see, we’d packed in normal luggage for the most part (there were a couple Big Star sacks floating around, though they were not the rule), but one thing stuck out like a Bentley at a Waffle House – a shiny, gray and white, 20” box fan; the staple of any sleeping member of my family. We were about to walk in to the posh and historic Peabody Hotel with a box fan. It was awesome!
We settled in to the room, drank the complimentary water, executed the token running leap onto the bed, and rested. Lulled by the melodious tones of Fred Sanford on the TV, we must have napped for about an hour before we decided to try to see the famous "March of the Ducks" and hit the town.
It was far too crowded to actually see the ducks. In truth, we missed them, but we can at least say that we were present.
We stepped out of the hotel onto Grand Avenue and were met by a cavalry of carriages and a tidal wave of the sweet smell of ribs and Bar-B-Q, the natural aroma of the Memphis air. After promising a carriage owner that we would return to take him up on his offer, we hiked to Beale Street to take in the Blues culture.
We walked a few city blocks and stumbled upon the legendary thoroughfare in all its music, food, and wanderers. Quite a crowd had already gathered. We passed a man creating dream-like scenes of fantasy using only spray-paint. Guitars, singing, drums, laughter. The undulating crowd was going everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
Hunger pangs dictated our next destination: The Hard Rock Café.
At the foot of boots worn and signed by Rufus Thomas and to the right of a shirt worn by Adam Levine of Maroon 5, we enjoyed our meal (I had nachos, of course) and watched Tennessee whip California (yee-haw!), and heard about the Braves hard loss to the Phillies (grr! What a frustrating season this has been!).
We left full and walked to Coyote Ugly so Pam and Mom could have their picture taken in front of the sign like the rebels they are, then headed back to the hotel and mounted a white carriage decorated with Christmas lights, tinsel, and patriotically themed ornaments. Memaw, you would have loved it.
The night air was perfect. The breeze danced on our faces and the sights flirted with our minds as we gazed upon the beautiful parks and architecture of the city.
We returned to the hotel to see everything we’d just seen one more time, but this time from above on the roof of the Peabody. The elevator took us to the floor marked “S” which held the Duck Palace and one of the most spectacular views of the nighttime skyline.
After pictures and phone calls, we retired to the room, played a couple hands of Texas Hold ‘Em, and began to prepare for the morning.
. . .
The prize for the Alabama Idol competition was nice, but I didn’t like it at first. I thought that the winner got a guaranteed audition with Paula, Simon, and Randy, but we found out that it was actually a “Fast-Pass” of sorts. I was a bit disappointed, and it wasn’t until this past weekend that I realized how valuable it actually was.
In Birmingham, Karen and I waited in the registration line from 4:30 a.m. until 8:30 a.m. We returned to the audition line two days later at 5:00 a.m. and weren’t seated in the BJCC until almost 9:00 a.m. By the time I auditioned that day, we had collected almost 8 hours of waiting in line! Not so in Memphis. Thanks, Alabama Idol!
I didn’t have to be at the FedExForum until 7:00 a.m. on Sunday, and since Mom and Dad got such a great hotel, we only had about a 5 minute walk to get there. I think I finally fell out of bed around 5:45 or 6:00 a.m. on Sunday the 3rd. After a quick shower and a shave (my head), we walked out the door and Mom and I arrived at the venue about ten minutes early.
The line was magnificent! They said it was the biggest audition turn-out this season at almost 16,000 contestants! You can double that since everyone was allowed to bring in one guest. At the time of audition, I was on the floor surrounded by well over 30,000 people. My quote in the Jackson Sun was accurate – it was quite unnerving!
Mom and I were taken inside the doors to the lobby well before the line was allowed to enter. We were among several who had won similar prizes from affiliate stations in other states.
It was here that we found that we weren’t totally exempt from waiting. In the lobby we waited for about 3 hours or so before we were taken below to the floor of the arena, but 3 hours versus 8? We’ll take 3 any day of the week!
Karen, Pam, B & B faithfully waited outside in their fold-out chairs holding their signs and watching the crowd of strangers, hopefuls, and weirdoes pass into the future. Karen and I called each other several times and passed love signals through the window from a distance, and after the crowd had waned they packed up and went back to the hotel to catch a few more moments in their heavenly beds.
Mom and I were eventually called about 10:00 or 10:30 a.m. to the corridor that took us down below. She had to leave me since the guests weren’t allowed to go where we were going. After hugs and encouragement she returned to the lobby and snuck in the arena to watch from above.
I waited in another little line before walking on the floor to audition, and then we lined up to sing.
There were 14 tables lined up with black, cloth-curtain dividers between each. Two judges sat at each table and four people lined up in front. At any given time there were 96 people auditioning, fourteen people singing, and 30,000+ people in the seats talking, singing, shouting, laughing, cheering, and waiting. That’s quite an obstacle.
It was then that I realized something I’d not thought before: the producers are not looking for great singers at this point in the auditioning! They can’t be! You can’t hear whether or not they can sing. Instead, they’re looking for personalities. “Will this person standing before me, whom I cannot hear, make a good show if the television is on and the sound is muted or there’s too much going on in the room to hear the music?”
Six people sang before me then I was up. I sang my song, Eric Benet’s version of the Kansas song “Dust in the Wind,” and she, the judge, stopped me to go to the next person. I thought I had failed again, and that was okay with me, but then she sparked a moment’s hope that I hadn’t anticipated. She asked me to sing a second song! I perked up with the bridge of Brian McKnight’s “Back at One” and tried to sing my heart out. She stopped me.
I did my best. I wasn’t chosen. That is 100% of all I can do, and I am satisfied.
. . .
I left the arena, found Mom, who already knew, and we marched our recessional to the sounds of phone calls all around us. People were calling home, friends, and spouses telling of their fate. I was no different. I called Karen who consoled me so sweetly. We called Dad and Shane who did the same. And we walked.
We entered the hotel just in time to see everyone leaving the scene of the ducks marching. We’d missed it twice. It’s okay.
When the elevator opened on the tenth floor, the girls were ready and waiting with the luggage and the fan. Hugs and consolation ensued and I appreciated every bit of it. It’s wonderful how something as simple as a hug can be so warm and perfect when you need it (and even when you don’t).
Karen held me a while and we all walked onto the elevator speaking of how we’d not be watching the show this year and how mad the whole process made us, but really, I was fine.
We loaded up, made a quick stop at Graceland to take a couple pictures and see the spoils of fame, then went to The Olive Garden to enjoy some grease, cheese, bread, and fat. It was almost as comforting as the hugs.
Most of the van slept on the way home. We were worn out mentally and physically. Poor Pam was just tired as any of us, but she had to drive. Thanks, Pam!
Back at the Lynch house in Henderson we sat on the couches and talked and watched some video footage of the weekend. The news showed some of the Memphis auditions, but the reporters were far more excited about it than we were. It was great, but we were beginning to realize that it would have still been one of the most memorable weekends of our lives had we re-done everything and deleted the auditions. Well . . . maybe not.
We held a devotional in the living room and took communion. That was wonderful. I love to worship with my family. Then we finished the weekend together almost exactly as it began – at a Mexican restaurant. We watched UK fall hard at the feet of Louisville, heard that the Braves had beaten the Phillies, and relived the weekend while smiling at acquaintances who came to eat there as well.
Afterward, we left for Casey and April’s to drown our sorrow in Texas Hold ‘Em and Oreo Cookies.
Karen and I left Henderson around 10:30 p.m. to head home. We sang, talked about the weekend, planned for the future and stared at the headlight-lit pavement as it slid beneath us like a treadmill. We marveled each time we saw deer by the road. We saw almost twenty by the time we had lain our heads on our pillows.
In one weekend’s time, I realized that I was a celebrity to my family. I didn’t need some desperate show to validate myself (though I don’t guess I would have turned it down). I was valid. I am valid. I come from years upon years of faithful Christians, solid marriages, loving households, and fine citizens. We celebrate birthdays and holidays together, and since Heaven is more wonderful than we can comprehend, then we’ll surely celebrate the day we all walk in together. And you’d better believe that one of us will be toting a box fan!
I needed all of you to find out what I needed for eternity in a wife and that’s how I knew Karen was who I needed for the rest of my life. She has been and always will be the most incredible answer to my family’s and my prayers.
I am not worthy of any of this, but I vow to you all and to God to live the rest of my life in gratitude for it.
Thank you for all of your prayers and support. I am among all men most blessed.
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Condensed and Apoplectic
Just when you think things are going well, it changes.
The one thing that you’ve been looking for turns out to be everything you had no idea about, and BOOM, it all falls to the ground like leaves on an autumn tree.
People are stupid in general. I mean, they’re good, but they’re stupid. Most of the time people truly believe that they are the only real humans on Earth. That’s why they treat everyone around them like an employee or a distant relative who’s come to botch up the Christmas traditions.
I’ll be back. I need to go kill some people on Splinter Cell.
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