Still Vacationing

. . . and enjoying it immensely. One of the cool parts about traveling/vacationing with other people is that I don't have to think. I just show up, do what I'm told, and enjoy not having responsibility. Example: this whole time I thought we were going to be hanging at the Outer Banks until Kelly told me otherwise as we were driving down. We're actually at Wrightsville Beach, a Gulf-of-Mexico-like place on the Atlantic. It's beautiful out [far cooler than the 100-degrees-plus in Cincy] and not that crowded since it's out of season.

There's more to write, but I'm not going to.

Holiday!

And, yes Madonna fans, I will add the obligatory, "Celebrate!"

We've finally taken a vacation. Before you hop in your car to break into our condo and rob us of our earthly possessions, I remind you that 1) we have an excellent security system and, 2) being so close to the ghetto, you'd probably get jumped by someone who wanted to take the junk you took for us. City living has its perks.

We're traveling with Kelly's parents and Kaelyn couldn't be happier; she loves the added attention. She calls Dave "Bah-bah" and Bev "Nah-nah" and she's saying it non-stop. Currently we're in the Vegas of the South, Gatlinburg, en route to Raleigh, North Carolina.

For those of you familiar with the Westside's premier vacation destination, we ate at the Applewood tonight. Good grub. Then Dave and Kelly went swimming with Kaelyn and the little girl wouldn't stop smiling. Good times. We've seen many a mullet, numerous Confederate flags, and too many exposed body parts that the Lord never intended to be seen. Good grief.

Kaelyn's finally asleep. Life is indeed good . . . because we're on vacation.

I Could've Altered The NFL Season

My friend Tim had the day off so we went out and got some breakfast then came home, grabbed Kaelyn, and went downtown. Former coworker Nate Grella hooked me up with some free tickets to the Reds Hall of Fame museum and, since they expire next week, we decided to use the freebies. The museum was pretty cool. Loved the Pete Rose exhibit. Kaelyn had a blast. As we left, Tim asked if we could swing by the Bengals Pro-Shop. While there we could see the New Orleans Saints on the practice field; they're playing Cincy in a preseason game tomorrow.

When we left the shop, I decided to drive down by the practice field to see if we could catch a glimpse of some players. The Saints had just finished practice and were crossing the street from the practice field back to Paul Brown Stadium. We caught the light and saw former Ohio State Buckeye Antonio Pittman cross with a few other players. Then the light turned green. With no particular place to go I did a U-turn [illegal?] and hit the light again. It was then that . . . well, we saw him:

Number 25.

Reggie Bush.

NFL Superstar.

I mentioned to Tim that I had the opportunity to alter the NFL season. As he crossed the street I could hit the gas and see if the man who's made a career of dodging 300 pound lineman could dodge a 1.3 ton Ford Explorer.

I . . . could've . . . ruined . . . fantasy football . . . for millions.

And I also could've made Michael Vick, PacMan Jones, and Chris Henry happy men. Their PR problems would've disappeared from the headlines with pictures of the former USC All-American being pried from the grill of my SUV.

Sure, I would be in prison for years, not to mention the fact that I'm a minister and that my 18 month-old daughter would've been in the car at the same time. But it would be an interesting story to tell, eh?

Instead of committing vehicular manslaughter and flattening a Heisman winner, I instead decided to take his picture [I had the camera from our museum trip]. But, by the time I grabbed it from the case and aimed, Tim said, "you know he's already gone, don't you?" I looked up and, sure enough, Bush had sprinted across the street to avoid autograph hounds and bolted into the stadium.

Both opportunities lost.

As fast as Reggie ran across the street, I think he had a fighting chance against the Explorer.

But I could've at least put him to the test.

Tennis Love

My neighbor Dustin is covering the tennis tournament for the paper, but we got a glimpse of a superstar tonight. We met newlyweds Justin and Courtney in Mason for dinner tonight. Then we swung by a for a glimpse of the old house and finally a trip to Play-It-Again Sports to get some gently-used soccer boots.

Driving down Fields Ertel, I noticed a brand new Mercedes SUV getting ready to pull into traffic. It had the tennis tournament logo on the side of it. Sure enough, it was Roger Federer. I was in Mason for three years of tournaments and never saw any famous player. Then I move and, voila, one of the greatest players of all time.

I was reminded of my friend and former coworker Howard Pauley who, years ago during the tennis tournament, had a wonderful lunch talking to some tennis player [note: Howard doesn't know a thing about athletics, thinking SportsCenter is where they take injured athletes]. He asked the man if he was any good and the guy responded that he could hold his own. It was Andre Agassi. From my estimation, Federer was either at Barnes and Noble, Costco, Target or Michaels. Draw your own conclusions.

Yikes! [interwebs-erly speaking]

Two great stories to share tonight, but first I need to describe conquering my Everest. I was out of the house this morning, returning to find a note from Kelly saying she couldn't connect to the internet. After a few tweaks, I realized that I couldn't either. Realized that since we had the new service installed this week, both our laptops had been on continually until last night. So I was guessing it was some sort of system reset.

I started messing with it at noon, stopped from five till eight-thirty, and just got it working at ten. I knew I couldn't go to sleep without getting this working.

Suffice to say, I got nothing accomplished today.

Wanted: Addiction Recovery Group

I'm afraid my wife needs some help. She's addicted to The Office. About this time of night she'll being throwing out some arbitrary fact about the show. Tonight she informed me that there'll be a convention in Scranton this October. If we didn't have a family wedding to attend, I know she'd be there. I'll admit, I like the show too, but her fanaticism is incomparable. I can't keep her away from it. It's so hard ["that's what she said"].

Prove to me she needs no help: let us know your favorite Office quote.

Come On, Ride The Train . . .

. . . if you can find it. Every couple of days we hear a train engine blow its horn. That wouldn't be too unusual except that there are no train lines remotely near to our condo. The only explanation we can come up with is that there are some tracks between a couple of factories right along 1-71 and they sound the horn as they're crossing the road [here's where I think it's located]. It just blew loud enough to wake Kaelyn from her nap but we were granted a reprieve.

I much prefer listening to fireworks after a win at GABP.

UPDATE:

I'm adding this update almost a year and a half later in case I forget this. After being outside one day a couple of months ago, I finally figured it out. There are constantly semi-trucks dropping off shipments at the Association of the Blind just down the street. Apparenlty, there's one truck whose horn sounds just like a train horn. So that explains why it felt like it was so close, but it was not actually a train.

OB

Finally, someone intelligently critiques the most annoying thing about professional golf. No, not this guy. It's the obnoxious man constantly yelling, "Get in the hole!" Tease:

"Does the same guy stand at the same hole and yell it twice every 10 minutes while players tee off all day? How old would this get if you were standing beside him? Can you imagine if this was your dad and you were riding in the car to the golf tournament with him saying things like, 'Promise me you're not going to yell, 'get in the hole,' after every shot, Dad' and then your dad keeps doing it anyway?"

HT: Lance

Unimpressed

Forgive me as I ramble. And forgive my improper use of pronouns as I attempt to protect someone's privacy. A week ago I spent an entire day at the courthouse. A personal friend was being tried for a crime that they did not commit. This was a crime that the county prosecutor knew my friend did not commit yet chose to use tax-payer money to try the case anyway in order to further possible political aspirations. I had little doubt that a not-guilty verdict would be the result.

Because of our pastor relationship, I was subpoenaed as a character witness. This meant that I was not allowed to view the proceedings and had to spend my time waiting in the lobby until I was called to testify. Of course, I was not called to testify which meant I really didn't do anything but provide moral support during the breaks [I did use the time to read two books, write a couple sermons and plot out my teaching schedule through next summer]. Like I suspected, it took little time for a not-guilty verdict to be handed down.

Through past experiences I've discovered that a lot of interesting things can happen in court lobbies and this day was no different. One person passed out while before a judge so paramedics came and hauled her away. Some people had never seen a metal detector before and were confused when their keys set it off. And some jackass divorce lawyer made jokes about a mother who left the courtroom in tears, desensitized to the fact that he's ripping her life apart [and it's gay marriage that's the biggest threat to the sanctity of marriage?]. Yet I digress.

The most appalling thing I realized that day, a lesson I'd learned perviously but still find disturbing, is that there are people on the side of the law that are just plain dirty.

This prosecutor had no case. I'm not a legal expert, nor do I watch Court TV and but I could clearly recognize this. After the verdict was delivered, reeling from an embarrassing defeat, the prosecuting attorney used their position to offer disparaging, inaccurate remarks about my friend to local media. So a representative of our justice system, employed to protect the public, used their power within the system to try to make a name for themselves at the expense of an innocent person. They, when their bad judgment is exposed, they lie and lob additional, baseless insults. As an American, I was embarrassed. As a tax-payer, I was pissed.

Overall, I was unimpressed.

So where is the justice for my friend, who was found not guilty, but had their name soiled? Where can they go to reclaim their reputation? I'm not going Michael Moore here, advocating that the system is broke and we should all move to Cuba. But I am saying that power is intoxicating, capable of making saints into sinners. We should always be a little leery of the people who wield power, clergy included [if not especially]. Not all crooks use weapons to commit their crimes; some use the very structures designed to maintain justice in order to thwart it.

It's difficult to cling to faith in such an unjust world. The case of my friend is just the tip of the iceberg; at least they could afford competent legal counsel. What about those innocent who are serving time? And, expanding the circle, what about the oppressed throughout the world who die without being heard? This isolated incident is nothing when compared to what millions others have experienced.

So now what?

As I move on I, trying to come to grips with my bitterness, I don't go to Nietzche, but return to the Scriptures. I still gravitate towards the Biblical concept of God in seeking relief- finding refuge in a God who is just beyond measure; a God who is what we aren't; a God who doesn't need to know "what's in it for him" because it's all His anyway. I find security in the understanding that when people fail and systems let us down, He exhibits perfect justice.

That, friends, I find impressive.

"He is the Rock, his works are perfect, and all his ways are just. A faithful God who does no wrong, upright and just is he."

Deuteronomy 32:4

There Is A Difference . . .

. . . in high-speed internet service. Today we switched back over to Time Warner after a year with Cincinnati Bell. I had no idea what we've been missing. Within two minutes I could tell that the speed was remarkably better with TWC. Plus, Zoomtown has been messing with outgoing emails [using Mac Mail, I had to go through their SMTP], bouncing back emails to AOL addresses. It's nice to get things back to maximum operating speed. Also, we gave up the home phone line [again], going strictly cell phones. And it only took half an hour to get everything changed. So that's cool.

East Verses West

I'm more a Jeopardy guy: a know a little about a lot; I'm the proverbial jack of all trades and master of none. But while my interests are varied, my one area of expertise would be Cincinnati's cultural war, namely, Eastside verses Westside. A local t-shirt company is trying to profit from the conflict by selling t-shirts featuring East and West in a [attemped] comedic look at family life. Some of it's a little cliche: Westsiders love cornhole, Eastsiders drink imported beer. I'm not sure it's easily discernable until you've lived on both side of the wall . . . er, 1-75. I'll just say that it's a yin-yang type thing as each side has their strengths and weaknesses. No one side can truly claim dominance.

So even though I grew up facing the sunrise and now face the sunset, I will maintain my dual citizenship and continue to be an ambassador for the city's greater good.

I Love Our Church

We're coming up on two years into this grand experiment. Although progress has been incremental, it's been a blessing to see how things work when they develop gradually. Tonight we had another pot-luck-type-get-together after church and I didn't lock up the building till 10pm. Everyone who attended the worship gathering stayed for the fellowship time. I guess it's not just me: our people like people. Additionally, I usually feel the pressure to connect with everyone; I worry about "working the room" so all feel included. After taking care of some essential tear down issues after the gathering, I entered the room to discover everyone conversing. I even tried to enter a table conversation, asked one little question, and instantly became irrelevant to the new discussion.

That's how I like things to work. I put a lot of pressure on myself to create connections among our people, so when it happens naturally, it makes me smile.

I love our church. I love our people. I love our mission field.

God is good.

Must See TV

I was catching the SNL rerun last night when I saw a commercial for a local weatherman. It featured a band rocking out and I immediately recognized it was local recording artist Kristen Key. I do not know Kristen well, but she was recently enrolled at Cincinnati Christian University and her sister Erin and I were classmates and co-workers at said academic institution. I also coached their sister Lindsay when she played soccer for CCU. The Wertenberger clan [I can see where "Key" is a more marketable moniker] is a fine group of people, and Kristen isn't the only one with musical ability. Although I'm not really down with the marketing campaign [I'm not a big Channel 5 guy anyway], I'm really excited about Kristen's emerging career and hope this helps enlarge her audience.

Whoa, Nellie!

Wuske, an original Echo core member, is playing wingman to Dave Ferris, a one-time Echo attender, in an effort to visit all 119 D1 college football stadia [correct plural of stadium there, folks]. They recently got some love at CBS Sportsline that has drawn some national attention to their conquest [HT: SWIND]. Both these guys have roots at the alma mater and are fine, upstanding citizens. Last I heard from Shawn, they're might even be a possible reality show opportunity that could stem from this. Stay ahead of the cool curve and keep up-to-date on their exploits here.

Mil

Apparently my last post was #1,000 here on Beit Carr. That's a lot of crap. My stats also said I'm up to 942 comments thus far. Since I used Haloscan for a period this is probably not accurate, but perhaps I should offer now that whomever posts the 1,000 comment will get . . . well, most likely nothing. But I will give you a shout-out. UPDATE: As if anyone will go back to read this, I discovered that the 1,000 comment was made by Scott Duebber. Good for him.

Was It Worth It?

Perhaps you haven't heard this story yet, but it started even days before the Mets fan caught Barry Bond's record-breaking ball.

"As soon as 21-year-old Matt Murphy snagged the valuable piece of sports history Tuesday night, his souvenir became taxable income in the eyes of the Internal Revenue Service . . . Even if he does not sell the ball, Murphy would still owe the taxes based on a reasonable estimate of its value. Capital gains taxes also could be levied in the future as the ball gains value."

So congrats on owning a piece of history. The IRS owns you. And they don't want you to know how bad they own you. Even though it would be a debatable part of the tax code, the agency is betting the guy doesn't get a good lawyer.

"The IRS seems reluctant to clear up the confusion. With six-figure treasures so rarely falling out of the sky, the agency declined to comment Wednesday on what regulations would apply and whether they would be enforced in the case of the Bonds ball."

God bless America. Death and taxes. Yada, yada, yada. Full article here.

Website Redux

Matt with Factor 1 Studios did some awesome work with the Echo Church website last year. We get a lot of good comments about it; a few churches liked it so much that they had Factor 1 do their own site. Since it's been a little over a year now with that look, it was time for a tweak. It should be going full-speed on Thursday so you might want to give the revamped look a look. I will brag that it's almost all my photography. There is a picture of the Walnut Hills Church from the 1960's that I didn't take. My personal favorite change to the site: an ode to The Simpson's Movie with the Spider Pig theme. It is most excellent.

Home Run

I'm still behind this week, so much so that I couldn't stay up to watch Barry hit his record breaking home run last night [of course, I endured his first two at bats with no pay-off]. I'm sure they'll be televising the game on ESPN Classic later today, so I'll DVR it. I'm not going to talk about the historicity of last night's event; one of my very first blog posts was about the steroid issue. Almost all agree that the record will be viewed as tainted, due a Maris-like asterisk. Instead I will make a prediction that will haunt my father-in-law [a lifelong Hank Aaron fan] and other baseball purists for the rest of their lives: Barry's record will never be broken. Sure, the thought of Alex Rodriguez reclaiming the record has kept a lot of people upbeat despite this record falling to an alleged cheater but I just don't think he'll get it done. There are too many variables involved and I'm not sure A-Rod has the mental toughness to keep at it. Barry's psyche was perfect for the pursuit, a "I-hate-everyone,-everyone-hates-me" attack was what got him there in the first place. Bonds was relentless in this pursuit and I'm not sure A-Rod is truly inspired about anything.

So instead of hitching our wagons to this idea that A-Rod will eventually save us, we should come to realization that the game we love will never be the same. And Bud Selig can distance himself from Barry all he wants, but he created this problem that revolts him; it happened on his watch.

And history will remember.