'I've never been nothing but a winner'

"When people ask me what I want to be remembered for, I have one answer: I want the people to remember me as a winner, 'cause I've never been nothing but a winner." - Quote attributed to Paul "Bear" Bryant on an Alabama fan's Web site.
For weeks, I've been struggling with my thoughts and feelings about the recent gridiron success of the Mississippi State University Bulldogs. The tussle's origins are two-fold: A haunting fear of alienating myself from my alma mater - the University of Alabama - warring with a core sense of what I believe is true regarding an opportunity the Alabama faithful let slip past about four years ago.
MSU's coach, Sylvester Croom, is a man with a proven record as a player and an assistant under Bryant. According to his profile on Wikipedia, Croom coached the likes of National Football League greats Derrick Thomas and Cornelius Bennett. He's a native of Tuscaloosa. He was on Bryant's staff when they won back to back national championships.
You can't get much more Crimson than that.
Yet when Alabama went looking for the person to take the helm after a downward spiral loaded with feelings of disappointment, betrayal and downright embarrassment, the higher-ups chose the safe alternative in Mike Shula.
Granted, I like Mike and I think the powers that be did wrong by him in the way they treated him. They forgot how much he had to overcome just to get the Tide back on solid footing.
So when they tossed Mike to the curb, they looked to someone they thought could get instant results. Instead, Alabama limped to a 6-6 regular season finish in 2007.
One of these losses came at the hands of the very man Alabama turned its back on four years ago. In fact, he's beaten them twice in a row.
After he wasn't selected at the Capstone, Croom went about 80 miles to the west, where people were glad to welcome him.
For their generosity, the folks at MSU earned the distinction of having hired the first black head football coach in the Southeastern Conference and even in the words of Croom (according to his Wikipedia profile, quoting a Washington Post article), referring to Mississippi: " The place has changed a great deal. I don't know how many people outside here understand that. But they're about to find out."
For what MSU's decision to hire Croom says about Mississippi and its attitude about race, I think it speaks even louder about what it says about the state of Alabama and where it needs to go in terms of racial harmony.
I still feel the way I did the day MSU beat Alabama this season: Alabama earned it when they chose not to give Croom the job for which he was immensely qualified.
Late add: The irony that a Bryant understudy - who wasn't selected to lead the Tide - won the Liberty Bowl 25 years after Bryant's final victory isn't lost on me and shouldn't be lost on any of us.
I hope Croom continues to remind Alabama's leadership of their poor choice, because, as Croom has proven with the 2007 season, he's like the man he played for and worked with.
He's nothing but a winner.

RIP Kevin DuBrow

Let's travel back in time to 1983 to a day when four guys based in L.A. who went by the name Quiet Riot took the nation - and at least parts of the world - by storm with a little record called "Metal Health."
I was one of the teens who loved these guys and spent money (probably mostly Mom and Dad's) to see them with a friend in Boutwell Auditorium in Birmingham, Ala. The above video - featuring their massive cover of Slade's "Cum on Feel the Noize" - gives a taste of what they were like back in the day.
OK, back to 2007.
While the band's lyrical content of debauchery of various sorts no longer appeals to me, the sound - vocals ranging from banshee screams to melodic signing, wailing guitars, pounding bass and thunderous drums - still does!
So, it is with a sincere prayer that I hope the late Kevin DuBrow, the band's frontman and lead vocalist, met Jesus somewhere along his 52 years here on Earth.
He was found dead in his residence in the Las Vegas area over the weekend.
Thanks for the enjoyment and memories, man.

In the blink of an eye

We took this picture of our daughter Jadyn in the upstairs play area of Arbor Place Mall in Douglasville, Ga. in March. We were in the community visiting some friends.
On Monday, a Brinks security guard and an alleged attempted robber were shot inside the mall.
One of the bullets fired in the incident apparently exited a window after flying above the food court and the children's play area, the Associated Press reported. The play area is just off the food court, where, according to the AP, people were diving for cover.
We've eaten in that food court.
Events we see or read in the news are often so much more real when we can say, "I've been there."
But it simultaneously induces concern and gratefulness to think that no one other than those directly involved were hurt, though we pray for healing for both of those who were shot.
If circumstances changed ever so slightly, a bystander - such as a child playing in the play area - could have been wounded.
It's difficult to bear the idea of my child getting hurt by some random event, but I can see the innocence of a child's playtime being vaporized by such a traumatic incident.
It certainly brings home the old saying: "There but for the grace of God go I."

Reclaiming a moment

In the summer of 1977, I went to see a movie with at least one of my parents, probably my Dad, called "A Bridge Too Far."
It's a star-studded epic - measuring about three hours in length - which tells the story of the ill-fated Operation Market Garden during World War II. What I've read of this material from Wikipedia on Market Garden looks pretty accurate.

(Please see the above clip of the movie trailer.)
I recall very vividly not being able to remain in the theater due to stomach problems. It turns out I had appendicitis and went into the hospital for several days after an appendectomy.
I watched it again this weekend thanks to a rented DVD. I think I'd seen bits and pieces of it in the years following but as an adult with a greater understanding of the events of WWII and their impact, I could appreciate it more.
And I felt as though I could reclaim a moment of enjoyment interrupted three decades earlier by illness. I'm thankful this sort of reclamation is possible.
Also, there are lessons worth learning from Market Garden, based on my understanding of the events. (This is with no disrespect intended toward those who fought and died in the operation.)
These are:
- Develop contingency plans. Sure, sometimes putting all your eggs in one basket is a risk worth taking. But more times than not, it's best to build in at least a framework for a Plan B.
- Accurately assess the challenges ahead. Too much focus on what's to come can prevent us from taking any risk at all, but obtaining and fairly analyzing information about what we may face is worth our time to investigate.
- The ability to communicate is essential. Make sure the means of communication you plan to use functions properly in a harsh environment and send alternative means of communication just in case the first option fails.

The Man in Black

Early in the morning of May 11, 1965, officers in Starkville, Miss. arrested Johnny Cash for public drunkenness. As he told it in the song "Starkville City Jail," he was just "pickin' flowers."
Organizers are planning for this weekend in and around Starkville the first-ever Johnny Cash Flower Pickin' Festival in honor of the late country music legend.
Cash was tough enough to empathize with the hard-boiled characters in his songs and play for those in prison, human enough to struggle with addiction and connected to his faith and His Lord and Savior enough to live well his own story of redemption. He remains one of my favorite musicians.
Starkville is a little over halfway between Interstate 55 and the Alabama line along U.S. Highway 82 within a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Memphis, Tenn., Birmingham, Ala. and Jackson, Miss. It is also accessible by air at the Golden Triangle Regional Airport just east of Starkville.
Entry to the festival is free, though organizers suggest a $10 donation to support the Oktibbeha County Heritage Museum and the Starkville/Oktibbeha Boys and Girls Club.
Information can be found at www.myspace.com/pardonjohnnycash
or www.pardonjohnnycash.com .

Over too soon

My wife, who does a much better and more efficient job at this whole blogging thing, summed up what happened two days ago. I will say that this pregnancy reinvigorated us with the idea of being parents again, and while I don't understand why things ended this way, I'm learning to trust that there are many valid reasons why things don't happen the way we think or plan, and by the grace of God, we'll try again.
Many wonderful, kind and generous people have expressed their love and support - including calls, floral arrangements and tears of sympathy and watching Jadyn for hours - for us in the last 48 hours.
We feel tremendously blessed to have the friends we do.
From here, I'll let our letter to the baby speak for itself. She already posted this on her blog.

----
Dear Baby,

We found out today that you are no longer with us. We can't tell you how sad we are that we aren't going to get to experience you growing and coming into the world and becoming part of our family. We know that Jesus has other plans in mind for you, and that your brief time among us will somehow bring glory to God if we let it. We all love you so much and we look forward to one day seeing you when we all get to Heaven. Until that time, we know God will take good care of you.

Love,
Mommy, Daddy and Jadyn

Facing the giants

A lot of things have transpired in recent weeks to make me take a closer look at what I do in terms of interacting with others and how they perceive me and making changes to that end.
I've made some progress in taking a different approach to things with these issues, but in some other areas I'm still doing what I've been doing and it's created some problems for me.
I finally have had to face some truth about myself that I've been avoiding for close to 20 years relative to my upbringing. Suffice it to say that things which transpired in our home and in my interactions with my parents still influence my behavior today, even though they've been dead nine and 24 years respectively.
I've got some hills to climb to overcome some of these root causes. Finally facing the truth is a good first step.
I've had this image of God that at some point, I'll have had my last chance to get things right and because I blew all my previous opportunities, he'll say, "Nope, that's it!" as if He is some mean and vindictive game player.
Scripture says otherwise about His character, but I do believe that He sends messages to us through our circumstances. This time, I'm hoping and trusting that I'll pay better attention and start facing the giants.

Sometimes it happens all at once

I believe we get senses sometimes – and I trust they come from the Lord – that life is about to change.
I got one of these Wednesday, Sept. 19, right before my wife checked to see if her own senses were right.
And they were.

(Photo of a subsequent test – not the first.)

We all gathered immediately to pray for the new child, with our minds racing about what this would mean in terms of changes.
One major change came a lot sooner than we planned.
For a few seconds, let’s back up to late spring 2004. At this time, Amanda and I were getting ready to retract our physical ties to Montgomery, Ala., my hometown.
We knew we needed to get a vehicle which would help us in a potential move and we made a trusting decision that we would need a vehicle which could carry a child.
We bought a 2000 Toyota Sienna that became our family vehicle, especially when Jadyn came along less than 18 months later.
At 5:37 p.m. Thursday, Sept. 20, I got a call from Amanda.
She was panicked and Jadyn was crying.
They’d been in an accident.
I gathered my stuff at work and moved rapidly toward the time clock and out the door. A police cruiser crossed in front of me as the officer headed for the scene.
I continued on my chosen path away from the main traffic arteries, got there soon enough and ran to the van. Yes, I said ran. Yes, at my size.
Yes, I was sore for a couple of days.
Of course, that doesn’t matter.
What did matter is that Jadyn and Amanda were OK overall.
Amanda got a bruised right shoulder and Jadyn received a minor scratch from where her car seat belt caught her.
We took friends’ advice and started shopping immediately for another car seat. We’ve been told you’re not supposed to reuse them after accidents. So, I marked up the old one with a red permanent marker saying that it had been in an accident and not to reuse. A city garbage crewman tossed it on the back of a garbage truck the next day, but as someone told me at the scene, the car seat had done its job.
Indeed it had.
Later the night of the accident, I could be seen yanking, tugging and generally giving a car seat a work-over in Wal-Mart. The lady working the baby section asked if I needed help.
I explained that a car seat spared my child serious injury in a wreck earlier that day and I wanted to make sure the next one we bought would do the same.
She left me to my yanking and tugging.
Later in the week, when we went to get a few things out of the van, Jadyn saw this:

And cried.
I got a sick feeling in my stomach – it was my first time to get a close look at the front too. I also realized this could have been much worse. And given the news that we've got another child on the way, I'm grateful the airbag didn't deploy.
This vehicle served us well, was our first real vehicle together as a family and we’re sorry to see it go.
We’re about to start looking for its replacement and we’re hoping to do it quickly.
Of course, we’re elated at the prospect of another child – praying regularly that he or she remains healthy as she grows – and mentally mapping out the things we’ll need to do to get ready for him or her.
If the last week is any indication, we’re in for quite a ride over the coming months as we head toward the projected due date of around Memorial Day.
We’ll do our best to take every turn in stride – no matter what lies ahead.

9-11 plus six

Today, I looked again at some video and thought about this day six years ago.
The memories and emotions came roaring back.
Some of the things I've come across either by viewing them in some form or thinking about them in my mind are:
The images of family and friends standing quietly behind Gov. George Pataki with fliers bearing their pictures and contact information.
The men and women who decided that jumping was better than burning alive.
The heroes and heroines who fought back on Flight 93 and somehow prevented what was sure to be more death and destruction.
The photo of a taxicab with a hole in its windshield from a light pole the aircraft flying in to the Pentagon knocked down.
I'm still left with the impression that acts like those we experienced on Sept. 11, 2001 can only be met with the sword.
I wish the Iraqi situation was a lot more clear and that an "exit strategy" was easy to achieve. I think we should redefine our goals in Iraq and begin a reasonable draw-down of forces, but in such a way as to not leave the impression that we consider the situation "lost."
Retreat from this fight should never be a motivation for reduction of forces - only that we've achieved a reasonable sense that we've done all we can to leave Iraq better off than we found it and our enemies in disarray and defeat.
We cannot back down from this fight. They've proven what they'll do when they see a moment of weakness.
We must remember this day for the rest of our lives and let it guide our nation's future actions as it relates to protecting its principles and most importantly, its people.

756 + *

The news that Barry Bonds surpassed Hank Aaron's 33-year-old major league home run record barely registered on my proverbial radar screen. Why?
I'm trying to word this so as to not sound like I'm accusing the man unjustly - I have no proof either way, but I think there are too many unanswered questions about whether Bonds has used performance-enhancing drugs. The evidence on the subject is largely speculative and circumstantial. Until those questions are answered through some legitimate venue, be it a court or an independent review on behalf of Major League Baseball, I think the record should be viewed differently than those of Hank Aaron and Babe Ruth, the record's previous holders.

An exercise in breaking blogger's block

OK, I have this strange thing about posting things here that I want to keep separate from MySpace and vice versa and I'm not entirely sure why. Maybe I've over-compartmentalized myself and my ideas to the point where I don't know what goes where!
So, you haven't seen me much here, mainly because I didn't think I had much to store in this electronic thought bin. I feel this sense of restriction on placing many of my ideas out there for the world to view. Fear is obviously at the root but sometimes I wonder if I'm afraid to conquer fear. You know - I don't know what I'd do with myself if I did?
I just did an Amazon search on "overcoming fear" wondering if anyone had tackled the subject, and sure enough, they have - in spades. There's even one about getting over the fear of success. Is that the root of it, that if I do something that people love that they'll want more of it and I won't be able to produce? Sure, that's an element, but that's not the root.
Another fear is getting "dooced," of course our online acquaintance (only by virtue of reading her blog) Heather Armstrong, through her site www.dooce.com, has turned getting dumped by an employer into a full-time gig. Big yay for her! She's one of my heroines.
I think I've got something to say, to offer to the world, but I haven't quite put my finger on it. Would they listen? Would I be dismissed, ignored or even worse, left to feel like I shouldn't have wasted my breath? What do I have to offer? (I don't have an answer to that yet but this sure does help).
OK, better get ready to get the little one up for the day.
I feel better, do you?

The sword came in handy this week

In our master bathroom, there's about a 2-inch gap between the wall and the sink, which sits on top of a cabinet. The other day, I accidentially knocked my razor down into this tiny canyon. I tried my electric razor for a few minutes and I guess the heads aren't clean or something, because it barely made a dent.
So I began the process of trying to figure out how I could free the razor from captivity. The broom handle was too wide and a search of the kitchen utensils turned up nothing suitable.
Then, I walked past this old ceremonial sword we found in my Mom's house when we were cleaning it out. I can't read the inscription on the blade now but I think we determined it came from a military academy, probably one my Dad attended long ago.
I grabbed the sword, took it to the bathroom and reached with it to get the razor. The first time didn't work and I ultimately only got out the razor itself - the razor blade remains at the bottom of the gap. I had a spare blade in another bathroom cabinet. But I did also retrieve a comb and a travel size of shaving cream.
Determining what to keep and what to throw away is a regular discussion in our household and it's one for which I have no scientific approach.
For me, this is proof that you never know when something for which you have no use suddenly becomes one of the most important things you possess.
But we've noticed recently a change in our outlooks now that we keep the house clean on a regular basis so there's definitely an argument for keeping clutter to a minimum.
I think we just have to trust the Lord to grant us wisdom on this subject and pray that the thing we need the most at the time we need it is there.

Way to make me proud, boys!

As a native of Alabama's capital, I'm defensive of my home turf and its people, and to some degree, the state in which I now reside - Mississippi.
Both states have long been maligned as filled with backward, ignorant, callous and racially insensitive people. Sometimes, these stereotypes are based at least in part on truth, though much of it is outdated. Thankfully both states have made tremendous, genuine strides in moving in reality beyond these perceptions.
Mississippians even developed their own campaign to ward off these opinions - Mississippi Believe It! And both states are experiencing major economic development in such sectors as the automotive and steel industries.
But our good friends in the Alabama legislature added to their great list of dubious accomplishments Thursday and put another stain on the state's reputation. Hopefully they can act like adults and straighten this mess out. But from the people who unplugged clocks to finish budget votes, fell asleep in front of people with cameras and - in one really proud moment, created a situation in which the presiding officer of one of the chambers urinated in a jug to avoid leaving and getting outvoted, I present this:



And here's the Montgomery Advertiser story.

Senate ends with a bang

Wow.

All I've got to say is: Gentlemen, for the sake of the rest of us, grow up, get your stuff together, act like the people you are supposed to be - leaders - and move this state and region forward. If you can't do it, then maybe the good people of Alabama will stop electing the same old people like yourselves and put fresh faces and minds in there who will.

Mad about Studio 60

OK, NBC's been cleaning out its stock of "Studio 60" episodes since they made the decision to pull the plug on the brillant but seldom-watched show. I've already written about this but it needs to be said again - this show was one of the best on television this year. It was smart, funny where it needed to be, serious much of the time and just a brilliant, behind-the-scenes look at how television, particularly a live sketch comedy show, lives - and sometimes - dies.
I hope this television show will get another life, maybe on NBC's sister network, USA.
Unfortunately, we live in a country where reality television - most of which is designed so we can switch off our minds - largely dominates the attention of television viewers, not well-crafted pieces of art, what "Studio 60" is.
We so soon forget that television shows are, from a business standpoint, vehicles through which advertising is sold and money is made.
Ultimately, that's all that really seems to matter in the end.

Flashing before my eyes

As I approach 40, I notice that I'm thinking more about various times in my life, a collage of various events and circumstances, some of which could have sent me down a different road than the one I find myself on now.
I'm not really doing a lot of navel-gazing, wishful thinking or even second-guessing, but just noticing the people who and things which have shaped the present.
How did I end up in a relatively small town in Mississippi?
What would life be like if this relationship went differently or I was still in that job, or ... ?
I also sense this is a journey of healing - letting go of some deep wounds and leaving some what-ifs permanently in the rear-view mirror.
I love my life on the whole and the people who are closest to me, and I'm grateful to be alive.
I think it's good from time to time to take stock on where you are, how you got there (as best as you can figure it out), where you're spending time and other resources and why and whether you need to adjust your priorities or, at least, let go of the past.
Do your work Lord and let it be to your glory. Amen.

Where is this guy and the Americans he speaks of?

OK, I know that this is a Hollywood portrayal by the late George C. Scott but from what I gather this was a real speech given by the real Gen. George S. Patton. It is approaching six minutes and 30 seconds in length, but I think it's worth a look.
The language is salty (be forewarned if you've never seen it) and he paints horrific images of warfare, but he makes this very interesting point:
“All real Americans love the sting of battle. … Americans … will not tolerate a loser. That’s why Americans have never lost and will never lose a war because the very thought of losing is hateful to Americans.”
And I do agree with his overall strategy for victory, though with not quite the same vivid sentiments.
I must say that it saddens me when I hear we’ve lost another young man or woman in battle – and the news of a combat loss is magnified when it comes out of Iraq. And I understand that there are all manner of questions about why we got there in the first place, whether we were lied to, etc.
But we are there and we need to think very carefully about how we exit – examining what kind of message it will send and precedent it will set.
I think we need to reflect on the words of this controversial yet proven American warrior as we debate our next steps in Iraq.
Do the current generations of Americans have the stomach for a protracted conflict of eight to 10 years on other shores so that, as a result, we can live in relative peace here at home, not afraid to go to the grocery store because that little Bondo-colored beater parked in front just might be a car bomb?
Are the Americans the general speaks of now mostly in nursing homes and cemeteries? Are there any in the younger generations with the determination to see something through to the end, no matter how traumatic?
The only ones I can currently think of are the men and women braving the elements and unseen risks in far-off lands such as Iraq. Let’s give them a chance to finish the job and prove to the world that there are still tough, determined and resilient Americans left.

What did we learn?

As I prepared to go into work Monday, I noticed that the death toll in the massacre at Virginia Tech was multiplying by the tens for a period of time. It took watching the convocation the next day to feel the sting of tears and sense the real – 33 lives cut horribly short, and for what?
A co-worker mentioned that we're just too busy to notice those around us - we're often too absorbed in our modern technology in some way to pick up on someone who's hurting, or to the extreme, intends to harm him or herself and others.
On Wednesday on the way home from work, I heard Disturbed cover of "Land of Confusion," originally by Genesis.

“There’s too many men
Too many people
Making too many problems
And not much love to go round
Can’t you see
This is a land of confusion.

This is the world we live in
And these are the hands we’re given
Use them and let’s start trying
To make it a place worth living in.”

These words seem like a good point of reference to start from in trying to move forward.
To some degree, people were trying to help the alleged assailant. It’s possible no amount of intervention short of locking him up would have prevented Monday’s horrific events.
But this should be a reminder to all of us to pay attention to our surroundings and those who inhabit them - whether they be online or in person.
We must be aware and vigilant about those we come in personal contact with on a daily basis. I’m not advocating we all stick our noses in each others’ business unnecessarily. But we should be mindful of those who might need our help and reach out. If the return response seems unnatural or downright troubling, then we might need to get someone else involved, at least another trusted friend, if not law enforcement or another relevant agency.
Let’s stick our heads up out of our computers and text messages long enough to make sure those around us are doing OK and not planning anything sinister or brutal.
And let’s let our friends from Virginia Tech continue to pick up the pieces of shattered lives and continue to move toward healing – hopefully a lasting one anchored in Jesus Christ. In the long term, let’s all do what we can to keep it from happening again.

A pet peeve

This is something that's gotten on my nerves for several years now.
It's a cute gimmick for a television ad, I guess, but it speaks to a potential problem - Dad is portrayed as a clueless, uninvolved idiot, leaving Mom, and even the kids, hip and wise.
Sure, Moms do a whole lot of the heavy lifting around the house and I'm grateful for what the one in my house does. But it seems as though these ads paint a sweeping picture of the American male which I pray is not reality.
If it is, then we've got a serious problem, brothers, and we've got to unite and step up to the plate.
To fend off future ad fodder, let's do the following:

• Take a look around you. Is it possible that what you're trying to make a point about is already happening in your house? If so, stop a minute and get a clue.
• Ask questions. Yes, I know this is hard, but sometimes, it's necessary.

• Find some way to involve yourself in your family's lives. Be a soccer or recital dad. It's OK.

It sure beats looking like this guy:

Why do we care?

This is a little outdated but it's something that's been rattling around inside for several weeks.
The aftermath of Anna Nicole Smith's death left a sordid mess that, apparently, the legal system is ill-equipped to straighten out.
There is isn't a celebrity death in my memory that equaled the circus quality of Smith's. The only recent comparison was that of Princess Diana, but the world's reaction carried a different tone - shock, dismay, disbelief.
Those left to claim a right to Smith's child - and her elusive fortune - made a mockery of her life, which already was fraught with complications - some self-induced, some not.
Despite her behavior in life, she should have been allowed at least a thimble-full of dignity in her death.
No such luck.
And, not long afterward, we followed Britney Spears' yo-yo rehab saga, checked out her latest tattoos and wondered aloud why she decided to go the Sinead O'Connor route with the hairstyle.
But, with Spears and Smith alike, I have to ask, why do we care?
I think it's because most of us think that those with money and fame are somehow closer to the divine than the rest of us - and we're puzzled when they act human or worse.
If we had a better understanding of the divine, we would realize that neither money, nor fame, can create spiritual enlightenment or bring us any closer to God.
The only thing money and fame seems to bring anybody is more - more stuff and often more problems.
So let's let Smith rest in peace and Spears get herself together.
Just like we'd do for anyone else.

Happy St. Patrick's Day and other stuff

OK, first off, let me explain the tag for this - gumbo.
In this sense, this post will have a smattering of all kinds of stuff that's welling up inside, so who knows what will come out?
I have some Irish descent in me somewhere, so at least I have green Post-It notes surrounding me. And as of yet, we don't have Jadyn in anything green.
But the day isn't over by a long stretch.
As I approach 40, I notice that I'm thinking more about people in my past - most often a guy I was in the Guard with named David who I haven't talked to in close to 14 years. I'm beginning to wonder if he's no longer with us - attempts to find him have led nowhere.
And there are those with whom renewed contact might be problematic, you know, past history that's too involved and complicated to bring forward into today.
But I guess I'm looking for some sort of acknowledgment that despite the challenges and struggles - and even my own self-defeating flaws - that I've somehow made a difference, or succeeded in life. Not to say that I've arrived, or that I'm perfect, but that I'm on the right path.
But in realizing that this is what I'm doing, I think I've unearthed a tremendous lack of faith.
Do I have to keep going if I never hear an attaboy? Yes.
"Well done, my good and faithful servant."
That's the one I want to hear. I guess it's selfish and self-centered to look for others along the way.
Am I where I'm supposed to be with the people I'm supposed to be with?
That, in and of itself, is a lack of trust, I suspect.
In most everything we sense, we think we're hitting the mark, overall. But ...
In my upbringing, a sense of doubt found its way into my thinking. It's something that's plagued me my entire life.
Very few things cross my path in which I don't second-guess my ability to handle them.
It's very debilitating and I'm learning - day by day - to overcome it.
A prayer shared by U.S. Rep. Roger Wicker, R-Miss., which House Chaplain Daniel Coughlin used in a prayer service near the opening of the current Congress in January, seems to fit.
It is attributed to the late Mychal Judge, the New York City Fire Department chaplain who died when the South Tower collapsed and sent debris into the North Tower on Sept. 11, 2001.
It reads: "Lord, tell me where You want me to go, Let me meet who You want me to meet, Tell me what You want me to say, And keep me out of Your way."
It is my prayer that I live out this one.

Making sense of what doesn't make sense

Less than nine months ago, my family stood in line in the lobby of Hillcrest Baptist Church along with dozens of other people to visit the family of Chris and Leah Walls (see previous posts) and file past the caskets containing their remains and those of their children.
We waited in line with a whole lot of people who didn't know us from Adam and probably wondered aloud why in the world would we bring a nine-month-old to a visitation.
Somehow, probably, we hoped Leah would see the child she'd prayed would come our way. We certainly wanted her family to know how much her support meant.
As I watched the footage roll in from Enterprise, Ala., Thursday, I noticed the unmistakable roof line of a modest-size, brick building which looked like a church. A map search confirmed what I thought - Hillcrest was again at the center of a tragedy, only this time, much bigger in scope at least in the number of people killed.
I think back now to the faces of the people I stood in line with on that balmy Friday night in southeast Alabama and I wonder - Are these now grieving grandparents, or intended rescuers who only found bodies or people who reunited a child and a parent or friends who are now turning to one another for comfort?
Did the Walls' deaths somehow prepare this town for even more sorrow? Is that even possible? Am I still grasping for something which will make their loss make sense? Yes, very likely.
But in both sets of circumstances, I continue to pray the Lord will do his bidding in these times of uncertainty and grief and that the sense of community I felt in that church would extend beyond its walls to a hurting Enterprise.
And I pray that the well-meaning people who've pulled satellite trucks to this community would do more than report about the horror. Maybe when the feed is offline, you could help someone lift a board, or listen - off-the-record - to a hurting family, or give a cup of water to those working the scene. They need more than 15 seconds of fame in Enterprise right now.
These are hard-working, dedicated, God-fearing, salt-of-the-earth people who probably don't respond well to pity. But they will listen to a helping hand. Let's all do what we can for these folks, even if for now it's just to pray.

Studio 60

OK, for my handful of readers, a tidbit to tide you over until I have more time!
Another decent show apparently may not come back to the Peacock network - "Studio 60." Yes, the writers bashed a pretend version of the American Family Association for effectively squelching creativity. But they also developed a central character, Harriet Hayes, who is a believing Christian, to balance it out.
I thought it was brilliantly written and well acted, particularly by Matthew Perry. I forgot about Chandler Bing.
I tend to like shows which often don't make it out of the first year and they tend to be those with some thought and effort behind the work. "E-Ring" was another one.
Fortunately one exception is "My Name is Earl."
Anyway, I hope they bring back "Studio 60" but it looks doubtful from what I hear. Maybe the next show I latch on to will actually stay on beyond one season!

Riding the train

OK, a regular viewer of this blog says that sometimes I'm guarded in what I say.
I guess I've heard too many stories about being fired for what you say on your blog and I'm a little leery of that.
I'm not prone to hurt people's feelings typically, unless I'm on some kind of tear about something.
I've been hurt myself and it feels like crap.
But the train known as blogging is pulling out of the station, and it's time this wordsmith jumped fully on board.
I've seen an online magazine where they have a whole bunch of bloggers - from what I could see that's all they do. The famous (infamous?) "dooce" makes a living off hers. The new leadership of the U.S. House of Representatives held a specific "press" conference for bloggers.
The future is here and it's high time we acknowledged it.
I don't know what I'm promising except hopefully more frequent posts and possibly developing a real passion for the medium. I want to push the technology envelope! And the unfortunate part of making a name for yourself is promoting yourself, something that is somewhat foreign to me.
But I guess we have to do what we have to do to move forward.
All aboard?

It will be strange

As I write this, the rock band Rush is in its final stages of mixing its 18th full-length studio album with an anticipated release time of late April or early May.
Yes, I've been listening to a lot of old Rush lately to get ready and pouncing on any new information floating out there in cyberspace.
What will be hard about this release is that Amanda and I won't have Chris Walls with whom to talk to about it. We last saw Chris alive when he, Amanda, another friend of his and I went to see Rush in Nashville, Tenn. on the opening show of their 30th anniversary tour in May '04.
We often talked about Rush - a likely strong influence on his desire to drum - when we got together. (Rush's drummer and lyricist Neil Peart is considered by many one of the best percussionists in the recorded world.)
If we do get to see Rush on this tour, possibly one of their last, it will be difficult emotionally for at least part of it, especially Neil's solo, which is usually mind-blowing.
As we awaited official word of Chris' death on a Saturday in June, I listened to a disc of an old Rush show and sobbed. Amanda mentioned said it today - it won't be the same when the new album comes out. She sure is right.
We aren't the same people because of Chris and Leah - they inspired us to take risks and dream big. They put some distance between themselves and the familiar to move to Nashville for an undetermined outcome, then did the same when they moved to Arizona.
While we haven't reached our potential (who really does?), we were motivated to some degree by them to step out where the ground is uncertain and the people are unfamiliar. In coming to this region of Mississippi, we did exactly that. That's something that just isn't normally part of who I am.
But we're living in a previously uncharted part of the world for us, and for the most part, enjoying it. Having a child like Jadyn and some of our closer friends around sure helps.
So, when the Rush album comes out, there are a few people around who care and who I hopefully won't bore to tears as I break it down, piece by piece, and put it back together again to understand the meaning of the lyrics and the musical structure of the songs. I hope they'll pardon me as they fill in for Chris.
Here's hoping that somehow, someday, Amanda and I will have some kind of lasting influence on those around us (like Chris and Leah did for us), and that they won't only remember us, but Jesus Christ above all.

Can a sports victory help heal a city?

In my last blog about the University of Alabama's hiring of Nick Saban, I wondered what actual good a national championship would bring the university and the state. I still ponder that question, especially when looking at the price tag of Saban's salary.
However, I look at the circumstances New Orleans finds itself in and I have to raise a question on the opposite of the coin - could a Super Bowl win do this city some good?
I think on the whole the answer is a resounding 'Yes.'
It still concerns me that the Superdome was merely cleaned up and repaired after Hurricane Katrina, not bulldozed in memory of those who died within its walls. And winning the Super Bowl won't fully cure the ills which led to nine murders less than two weeks into the new year.
But it certainly gives people there something else - something fun and exciting to think about - and it could help them think they can succeed in their own struggles to rebuild and overcome.

Saban the best for last?

A friend sent me an e-mail of another friend's blog about the prospect - now reality - that Nick Saban would leave the Miami Dolphins to become the latest to jump off the coaching merry-go-round and land in Tuscaloosa.
The friend who wrote the post pretty much bashed the whole thing, including the apparently misleading statements Saban made about not wanting the job, yet considering and now accepting it.
I am an Alabama fan, and this may come as a surprise to the person who sent the blog to me, but I don't see much with which to disagree.
The desire to win a national championship again at Alabama is manifesting itself like some kind of strange virus.

It makes otherwise rational people do irrational things, like offer a coach who hasn't stayed put very long a GUARANTEED $32 million over eight years and turn loose a guy who was loyal by default over two losses - those to Mississippi State and Auburn.
It also makes ordinary citizens drive to the Tuscaloosa airport and wait for the new coach to arrive - bringing an image akin to those awaiting an exiled leader of a nation in turmoil to return from his exodus and restore order.
How quickly we forget that another previous coach found his "dream job" was calling him to Texas just a few short years ago. Who's to say this new savior won't pull the ripcord in his contract in three years and leave everyone disillusioned again? Only this time, he'll leave us closer to bankruptcy.

As my friend mentions, the state of Alabama consistently ranks near the bottom in quality of life issues.
Sure, much of the money Alabama has at its disposal to run its athletic program is from sources like ticket sales and private donations - not taxpayer money. But it still could be used elsewhere - a 13th national championship will do little more than give us a short-lived swelling of pride. Granted, it would be fun. I still have memorabilia from the 1992 title. But it won't fix roads, mend racial fences, heal the sick or educate a community.
Another acquaintance of mine mentioned recently that Paul "Bear" Bryant himself couldn't measure up to the pressure those currently in charge - whomever they may be - place on the job. I think he's absolutely right.
I'm willing to give Saban - and those who wanted him so badly they figuratively mortgaged the farm - a chance.
I hope they're right.
And I hope that $32 million is somehow worth the investment.
Somehow.