. . . to, er, worst. I was telling everyone I knew that the Reds were back in the playoff race. They were only 6.5 games out and the Central was wide open as everyone was choking. Then they go out and lose a double-header to the Pirates.
Nice.
Unless Petey Mac gets them to .500, he doesn't get the job.
Started new session of class tonight at Xavier. Quick hits:
You gotta follow the story concerning Lance Briggs who wrecked his $350,000 vehicle and left it there, later reporting it stolen. Looks like he's only going to get a fleeing the scene of an accident charge. That's a lot better than what he should be getting. Why would you leave your Lamborghini on the side of the road after an accident? Perhaps it's because you realized that a fleeing the scene charge is a lot better than a DUI.
Perhaps even more disturbing is the Bears' nonchalant attitude with Briggs, stating that he won't be suspended. With all the flack the Bengals have taken for having a team of jail birds I would suggest that the Bears have been much worse with Tank Johnson and now Briggs. ESPN should start spreading the love and calling out the Monsters of the Midway for being, well, monsters.
Hopefully Roger Goodell will man up and throw a suspension on him. It's only right.
Crazy week here in town while we were gone. Two incidents, combined with the Michael Vick case, has me thinking. The first was the unfortunate story about a white woman who forgot her child in a car last week while her mother was at work; the little girl died from extreme heat left. There's a heightened interest in the case because the woman was affluent, driving a luxury car. It's a horrible accident, one from which the family will never recover, and many are chiming out about. While it's obvious it wasn't intentional, many people are demanding justice. The prosecutor is deciding whether or not to press charges and I would suspect none will be filed.
The second case is that of a black woman who was convicted of animal cruelty. A stray pit bull was roaming around her home in a lower class Cincinnati neighborhood. The woman's nephew, recognizing that the dog wouldn't leave, tied up the animal. In the course of a few days the animal, while trying to escape, strangled itself. The woman who owned the home [and had nothing to do with the dog] was charged with felony animal cruelty, convicted, and not allowed any bail. So she's sitting in prison, facing 180 days in jail in addition to the time she's already serving.
Now ignoring issues of race and economic status here, what does this say about how we are beginning to view life in our society? It would seem that the outrage over the deaths of animals far outweigh that of human beings. Would Michael Vick had been better off if he had killed a person instead of dogs? Why can you hunt deer or rabbits or birds legally, but being involved in the death of a dog is criminal?
I'm not saying that the mother of the little girl needs jail time; she's scarred for life. But where is the ethical center of this argument? How do we value the life of an animal?
I've been on the edge today and it's not a post-vacation slump. I've yelled at Kelly numerous times today [sorry, babe]. I tried a little humor in the previous post to see if I could laugh myself out of a funk; it hasn't quite worked. I even cursed at a printer; it still refused to respond. I'm still wrestling with some emotions.Another Christian friend of mine is in trouble. This time it was self-induced. This time they did what they're accused of. And I never saw it coming.
It's crazy that, despite thinking I can read people well, I get blindsided by something they do.
Here's the deal, friends of faith: it's all about where your beliefs lie. If you trust in Christian leaders more than God, you'll be disappointed eventually. I want to be a good pastor and model Jesus perfectly. But despite my best efforts, I fail. That doesn't mean I give up on trying, but the people I minister to need a greater example than I could ever be.
And they have one in Jesus. And that's why He's the focus of all we teach: we fail, He doesn't.
. . . but I doubt this recent study will be included in the new Cincinnati Visitor and Convention brochure. I swear, I didn't add to the stats. And I'm not quite sure why the Youngstown media found this newsworthy. I guess it's part of their, "Thank God you don't live in Cincinnati" series. Regardless of their reasons, Youngstown is now on my list.
I'm gunning for you, county seat of Mahoning County.
. . . but exhausted. Why do you need a vacation to recover from one?
I know I'm late to the party, a week of vacation will do that to you, but did you catch the brilliance bestowed upon us by Miss Teen South Carolina? During the Q&A at the Miss Teen USA pageant, she was asked about why many people can't locate their own country on a world map. The quote is below, but here’s a link to the video.
"I personally believe that U.S. Americans are unable to do so because, um, some people out there in our nation don't have maps and uh, I believe that our, I, education like such as uh, South Africa, and uh, the Iraq, everywhere like such as, and I believe that they should, uh, our education over here in the US should help the U.S., um, should help South Africa, it should help the Iraq and the Asian countries so we will be able to build up our future, for our children."
This, friends, was brutal. Not even AC Slater could save her.
People don't have maps. I guess that makes sense. But how South Africa figures into the equation, I'm still unsure. And I'm not sure the Asian countries need our help, but I will go to the grave advocating our need to help the Iraq.
From the "how-do-we-alienate-a-segment-of-our-fan-base?" department, the Jacksonville Jaguars recently donated $30,000 to Planned Parenthood. Nothing creates team spirit like supporting widespread abortion.
Brilliant.
. . . 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
. . . 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.
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
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
. . . 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.
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.
