The Day

Remember when sporting events weren't named after a company? Of course not, you were probably born after 1980 and never knew a world without cable television or MTV.

Well, back in the day, company's just showed their commercials during the football game or basketball game or what ever it was they were sponsoring. I remember when the Super Bowl was called the Super Bowl, not the Bank of America Super Bowl.

I also remember when sporting arenas weren't named after corporations; they were named after people, important people who either meant something to this country or to the game being played inside. What a crazy concept, eh?

It's a shame we've traded our heritage for corporate sponsorship. Big companies sponsor every aspect of a game from the Chili's Halftime Report to the Degree Antiperspirant Play of the Game.

So what's next, the Oreo Cookie Free Throw? Mmmmm... Oreos.

The Great White North

Greetings from Seattle, Washington. We made it here safely Wednesday night. It took a little longer than anticipated because of flight delays and because we were redirected from L.A. to Denver.

The first thing I noticed as we landed in Denver is that they have something we don't have in Texas... the NORTH! It was cold. Really cold. 25 degrees! And there was strange white stuff all over everything.

I walked off the plane without a coat thinking I was just going up the boarding ramp to the terminal, how cold could it be? Oy, now I know why I live in the South. I got to the end of the ramp and immediately stopped and pulled my jacket out of my backpack, and it's been on ever since... even in bed!

Denver's airport is pretty big. We walked through the terminal foraging for food and saw signs saying the restaurants were upstairs, so we walked to the escalators where something interesting was happening. Apparently the escalator that was supposed to carry people to the second story was broken. People were literally standing around looking at the motionless stairs like they didn't know what to do. You could almost tell what was going through their minds by looking at the expression on their faces, "I don't understand, it's not moving? What do we do now, how will we get upstairs?"

My wife and I excused ourselves through the crowd and began walking up the stairs. As I reached the top I looked back only to find that one other couple had decided to brave the manual task of walking up the stairs. Sheesh, we're seriously becoming a lazy society. This was highlighted even more as we walked around a mall in downtown Seattle yesterday. I saw a kid who was probably 10 years old and weighed about 100 pounds go zipping by on wheels that were built into his tennis shoes. I thought "That's perfect, the kid's health is already in serious danger, so let's put wheels on his shoes just to make sure he doesn't accidentally get some excercise by walking."

Anyway, we've been having a nice visit in Seattle. The weather has been clear, but cold, and tomorrow my wife will run her marathon. I wonder if anyone would notice if I installed wheels on her running shoes?

"God, thanks for the safe trip and a wonderful Thanksgiving. Be with everyone running the marathon tomorrow. Let their legs be strong and their will to finish get them home. Amen."

Of skyways and marathons

I’m a nervous flier. Which begs the question: “Why am I getting on a plane tomorrow, the day before Thanksgiving, to go somewhere!?” Well, it’s because my wife likes to run.

I’ll let that swish around in your head a minute…

Ok, that’s long enough. My lovely wife is one of those crazy people who participate in the most hurtful sport I’ve ever witnessed. No, not cage fighting, worse than that. She’s a Marathon Runner.

I’m not a long distance runner. Sprinting from my couch to the fridge to grab a snack during a commercial is my limit on endurance. But not my wife, she runs marathons. 26 miles, 385 yards. The reason for the odd distance is because Queen Alexandra of England in 1908 wanted the best seat at the Olympics for the race, so the normally 26 mile run was extended to end in front of the box where she sat, adding the extra 385 yards. For some reason it’s been that way ever since.

So marathons are 26 miles and 385 yards. They just call it 26.2 miles now; I call it insanity in tennis shoes. I support my wife at all her marathons though. I’m the guy at the finish line with a beer and a hotdog yelling “Run honey run!” But I have to say that in the 4 years I’ve been watching these races I have yet to see one person cross the finish line with a smile on their face. I would estimate that being dragged behind a tractor by their toes the entire 26.2 miles wouldn’t produce an expression any worse than the agony I’ve seen.

Anyway, back to flying. My wife is running in the Seattle Marathon this weekend, and since we have friends there we decided to go up for the holiday and spend it in the mountains north of the city. It’s beautiful. You can see pictures of our last trip to Seattle by using the link under Travelog on the right.

Flying, however, isn’t my favorite mode of transportation. I’m ok with being in the air. In fact I love the act of flying. It’s the loss of power to the engines and hitting the ground at 600 miles an hour that I’m afraid of. I know flying is a pretty safe way to travel though, but I’d rather be the person doing the flying. It’s a guy thing I guess. I don’t want the difference between flying and falling to be some guy I don't even know having a bad day.

I’m sure it’ll be ok, and when it comes down to it I rely on God’s will. I’m not really afraid of dying because I know Heaven will be wonderful. The main reason I don’t want to die though is because of my daughter. I love her, but more importantly I’m not done embarrassing her. I figure I have at least 6 more years of hearing “OH DAD!!!” whenever her friends are around. It’s a gift all men possess. The embarrassment gene. We use it on our wives too.

So barring any high-speed decelerations, I’ll probably be back to blather some more next week. I hope all who read this blog have a great Thanksgiving, and don’t forget to be thankful. I need to run to the store now and get some Dramamine.

“God, I have so many things to thank you for this Thanksgiving. Most of all, your saving grace. Thanks for everything you do. Don’t eat too much on Turkey Day, and let the Cowboys win. Thanks!”

Thanklessful

* They travel miles in the heat.
* They risk their lives crossing a border.
* They don't get paid enough wages.
* They do jobs that others won't do or are afraid to do.
* They live in crowded conditions among a people who speak a different language.
* They rarely see their families, and they face adversity all day every day.

I'm not talking about immigrants; I'm talking about our troops!

Serving in the United States Armed Forces is a thankless job. Let's change that. Thank a Veteran today.

"God, be with the men and women of our armed forces as they continue to serve in dangerous places around the world, protecting the freedoms we enjoy in this country. Give them strength as they march into harms way, protect their families who anxiously wait for them to return, and give comfort to those whose have lost loved ones. Amen."

Tis the Season... already.

I went shopping today and everywhere I went there was Christmas music and Christmas decorations. Yes, gird your loins; the holiday season is upon us.

The holidays are a very hectic time for most people. There’s a lot of pressure to find just the right gift for everyone on your list, and even more pressure to ensure everyone is on your list. Miss one person and you’re sent to Santa jail for a time-out. But, if the person you forget is your wife, well let’s just say there’s a 911 call involved.

Christmas has become a lot easier now that my daughter is grown up. Cash is king in her world, so I don’t have to burn most of my brain cells trying to find a good gift for her. Christmas is also easier since the invention of the gift card. I love these things. You can get them at just about any store you can imagine and most people enjoy getting them because it saves time returning stupid things they don’t want.

My wife isn’t too keen on me getting gift cards though. She knows that if I get a $50 gift card for Home Depot I’m probably going to spend at least $100 more by the time I’m done. Hey, can I help that there are tools on sale?! Back me up here guys.

The season is hectic, but fun too. I love giving gifts but I never forget that Christmas is about the birth of my Savior, and that’s the most important thing. The enemy has worked very hard to distract us from Jesus’ birth by changing Christmas into a retail holiday where some jolly fat dude in a red suit flies around the world in one night giving presents to all the good boys and girls.

I’m not saying take Santa out of your festivities, I’m just saying to teach your children about the true meaning of the holiday as the foundation of Christmas, and then throw in a gift or two, or ten.

“Jesus, thanks for coming here and giving us the best present anyone can get: salvation. Let us not forget that Christmas is about you, and help us to not be distracted by the glitter of gifts and trees and decorations. Help us to always keep in mind the true reason for the season. Amen.”

Hating to Love

I read a news article this morning about a church in Kansas who went to a military funeral with anti-gay picket signs to tell everyone that our soldiers are dying because God is mad at America for tolerating homosexuality. The article had a picture of them holding signs that said things like “Not blessed just cursed” and “God hates you”.

Words can not begin to say how it saddens my heart to see stuff like this.

If you are reading this and are not a Christian, I want to assure you that these people do not represent what a Christ follower is. God does not “hate” anyone. I’m sure he is saddened by the conduct of his children, just as any father whose kids have gone astray would be. But He still loves us.

I believe in what the Bible says: God created a man and a woman to be with each other. But just because I don’t agree with the gay/lesbian lifestyle doesn’t mean I’m going to stand on a street corner with a sign spouting hate towards them because of their choice.

The only thing I’m interested in is their relationship with Christ. These people with their signs don’t seem to be interested in anything but creating an environment where Christians are given a bad name.

The enemy has a lot of tricks, and he uses people like this who can’t see past their hate to discredit the true followers of Jesus. It creates mistrust in people who may be searching for the truth.

Jesus spent his time here on earth hanging out with the people who needed him most: criminals, adulterers, liars, prostitutes, etc. He didn’t tell them they were going to hell; he didn’t even tell them they were bad. He concentrated on what was important, their salvation.

So on behalf of those who truly follow the teachings of Jesus, I’d like to tell the family who laid their soldier son to rest that I’m sorry for their loss and that they had such a solemn moment infected by the hate of those hypocrites who have probably made God sadder than the people they were protesting.

“God, why do people who should be spreading the love of Jesus spend their time spreading hate and lies? Lift my aching heart to see past this travesty and continue your work. Amen.”