Shallow Thinker

You want to know the kind of organized runs that I enjoy the best? No? Well, there’s no need to be rude about it. Just for that, I’m going to tell you the answer, but I’m going to waste a couple of paragraphs in the process. (That will teach you)

5K’s and 10K’s are an excellent way for various causes to raise money and to raise awareness. Not only does it bring in some cash for registrants and sponsors, it also helps to build a kind of comraderie..comradaree…comroduhreeie……friendship among the participants and the volunteers. One example is our church’s recent Run for Missions…Run4Missions…R4M….ruhn four mishuhns. It’s helped raise funds for a mission trip to Ecuador and also starts the youth into a mindset of working towards a goal…something that will be beneficial on their trip.

So, what does that have to do with the kind of runs that I like best? (hold on…I’m getting there.) I like the runs where I don’t actually have to run. For instance, with the R4M, I just sent in a form and a check and now I just wait for my t-shirt to arrive in the mail. It will be the exact same shirt that the runners got so in a month or two when I’m sporting my shirt around town, no one will know if I ran or didn’t. It’s a win-win situation.

If you’ve ever spent much time on my wife’s blog, you’ll know that chicldhood cancer is a cause that is close to her heart. So, I present to you the ability to support a good cause while not running. (CLICK HERE) It’s a little late for this year’s race, but don’t worry, there are lots of other opportunities out there. I’ll try my best to post them when I’m aware. So go on, join me in not running these some races. Maybe someday I’ll hit my goal of not running 1,000 kilometers.

So I don’t have the bulging biceps, tantalizing triceps, or quasi-….um…quadratic quadriceps….no….um……Ah, you know what I’m getting at. So I don’t have the muscles that I’ve been working towards. The obvious question is “Why not?” Here are some excuses that I’ve been working on:

• My shirts are too small and prevent them from growing.
• I don’t want others around me to be intimidated.
• Oh, they’re big…it’s just the lighting in this room that makes them look small.
• Why are you so vain to be stuck on that?

Well, apparently, I’ve been barking up the wrong tree. Researcher’s say that genetics may be holding me back. In fact, no matter how hard I try, I may not have the genetic coding that is required to build muscle mass. The really important thing, however, is not how big your muscles are, but how healthy they are. Go on, have a look at the article.

So, there you have it. My muscles may not be big, but they’re healthy! I wonder how far else I can apply this type of thinking to… Sorry, honey, the garbage may not be outside, but it is smelly. Sorry, boss, my work may not be good, but it’s colorful. My car may not be fast, but it rolls downhill very well. My lawn may not be green, but it’s happy.

*The photograph on this post may have been altered slightly to enhance the “health” of my muscles.

Most days I come home and I’m ready to relax. I love my family dearly, but I catch myself having the attitude and reactions of just trying to make it to bedtime. I’m forced to remind myself that my girls are only going to be girls for a moment, and then they’re gone…but it’s difficult to constantly remember that.

Yesterday, my eyes caught a glimpse of something that helped shift my attitude. Butterfly came fluttering into the room from an excursion of planting flowers with her mother. She sat on the steps and said “Daddy, I have a secret!” So, I leaned in close and she whispered into my ear “Why don’t we go upstairs and put on a pretty dress!” (Lately, she’s had this thing for wearing dresses. I guess that’s better than having a thing for not wearing anything.) Well, it’s almost suppertime…we might get the dress dirty…you’ve worn that outfit almost all day, there’s no need to change now…it’s a hassle…blah, blah, blah. So, of course, I escorted her upstairs and we picked out the perfect dress and matching shoes and headed back down to show off.

We were playing in the den waiting on the meal to finish cooking and I looked over at Butterfly sitting on the couch. There she was in her little dress, reaching out and “helping” Ladybug play with a toy. I noticed that Butterfly is a little girl now. She’s no longer a toddler, she’s shifted into a little girl. Sure, we still have our occasional (frequent?) outbursts, but I’m simply amazed at her abilities to communicate, imagine, and to even write her name. It’s odd how fast she’s grown. It seems like just yesterday she was a little butterball that could be occupied by pulling my hair while riding on my shoulders. Now she wants to hear stories, loves to sing songs, and even elbows her way into her parents’ conversations.

Steven Curtis Chapman did about a good a job as anyone could in capturing these feelings into words with his song “Cinderella.” (If you click here, it should automatically start playing.) The moral of the story isn’t just for fathers or mothers, or grandparents. It’s pretty much universal and it’s well-stated in a quote from Kay Lyons that my sister used in her valedictorian speech:

Yesterday is a canceled check; tomorrow is a promissory note; today is the only cash you have — so spend it wisely.

Apparently, we have one of two possible problems. Either (1) the previous owners of our house put in some not-too-good toilets or (2) we eat too much Chinese food. And, since I’m not going to give up my Mongolian Beef anytime soon, it looks like I’ll be replacing a few porcelain thrones.

I replaced the downstairs toilet the last time my in-laws were in town. So, since they came into town again, my wife decided that I should replace the one in our bathroom. Apparently, she’s not a fan of the random, midnight flushings or the sound of the tank filling up for no reason.

So, off we went again to Lowe’s. This time, I decided to evaluate the available toilet options a little better. I narrowed down the choices to 2 models. One was the exact same type that we put in downstairs. The other advertised that it could flush 400 golf balls which is good because I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gone to do my business and out comes about 350 golf balls. Unfortunately, that one was $120 more, so I went with the “Cadet 3″.

This replacement was relatively uneventful…until we got done. When we moved into the house, we painted over the dark green wallpaper with a soft purple. Since I installed a smaller toilet, we now have this beautiful green wallpaper peering at us from it’s hiding place. So, while I crossed one thing off my list, I had to add another. But let’s be realistic…we’ll probably leave the unpainted spot just the way it is until we decide that it’s time to sell our house. Then we’ll panic, try to find a color that matches, not be able to do so, and then we’ll repaint the whole bathroom. It’s crazy. Why do I even try to catch up on all this house work? That’s it, I’m stressed…I need some Chinese food…

This weekend was a wild one, to say the least. A day reserved for thanking mothers shifted to a day of tornadoes, clean-up, and then thanking God for survival.

At 5:00, Kelley and I were awakened by loud thunder. We listened for sounds of either of the girls, but after a few minutes of silence, we drifted back to sleep. At 5:30, the tornado sirens beckoned us to get out of bed. I quickly ran downstairs to let the dogs into the main portion of the garage (they always have access to my workshop), and I turned on the news to see what was going on. At about 5:45, the power went out. It was at this point that Kelley and I began discussing the best place for us to be during a storm. My keen engineering judgment was no match for the fact that it was her day, so I told her to just pick a spot. We still hadn’t gotten the girls from upstairs because we wanted to make sure there was reason to wake them up. (As a parent, it’s always a tough choice between letting your kids get their full night of sleep or letting them get swept away in a tornado. We ended up flipping a coin.)

Since the power was out, Ben Jones wasn’t able to tell me all of my important information. So, like any smart person would do in a major storm, I stepped out onto the front porch.

Thunder and lightning battled for supremacy over the ear-piercing sirens and I even marveled for a moment at the volume of rain that was falling. And then, the rain stopped coming down and started going sideways. I ran in and told Kelley about the sideways rain (I didn’t think to use the Forrest Gump accent) and we ran to get the girls. Butterfly was already awake and Ladybug was sitting up when I opened her door. We huddled in the Queen’s chosen place for about 5 minutes until the winds settled and the rain began to obey gravity again. We then started the rest of the day with a candle/flashlight-lit breakfast and continued with the normal balance of sleep-deprivation and parenting. Unfortunately, the results were much more devastating for the part of Macon that sits about 3 miles south of us. The drive to work opened my eyes to the destruction around.

It’s always at times like this that you realize that you should really have a plan (and supplies) for emergency situations. One of my friends from high school recently blogged about the threat of a fire in her apartment building and how she and her husband responded. By nature, I’m a planner and an organizer. However, I’m also decent at responding to things that come at me in a hurry. So on occasion, I put off the planning because I think that I’ll be able to respond appropriately. A plan of action for various emergencies is probably not one of those things that should be addressed only when it is needed. (Although, Butterfly did tell me later that when she heard the thunder she and Mickey Mouse hid under the covers. This seems to be a really good method for handling most emergencies/monsters.)

I’m thankful that the people in charge of those tornado sirens didn’t take the “eh, let’s just see if we can handle it when it happens” approach. As of this morning, there were no fatalities in Bibb County. Thanks, Bibb County EMA for your work prior to the storm and for your response afterwards. There are still people who don’t have houses to go home to, but they do have their families.

*Photographs were taken by staff of the Macon Telegraph.

One of the neat things about being the proud owner of a fancy blog is that I can load up neat, little software programs. These little programs scurry about my website gathering information about what my visitors look at, which posts are the most popular, and how likely I am to become a millionaire based on my stellar writing.  Here’s an example, it shows the number of unique visitors to my site:

It just so happens that the powerful Google also offers statistical tools for a website. So, I tinkered around a bit at the beginning of this week and allowed Google to run amok throughout my brilliant posts. Most of the statistics that it returns would bore you (similar to these two paragraphs). However, there was one that I thought I’d share with you. This screen shot tells me how many readers have subscribed to my blog feed through google. For instance, I have a subscription to all of my favorite blogs (shown on the link page) so that when I pull up my google home page, I can automatically tell who has updated their site with a recent post. So, how many people out across the vast internet want to subscribe to my writings to enjoy my keen intellect at wry humor?

And the saddest part of all….I’m pretty sure that I’m that subscriber.  I wanted to make sure that my posts are updating on the feeds, so I put my own blog onto my google home page.  So, as far as google is concerned, I’m a very important person to me and I have the statistics to prove it.

Those who live in the Middle Georgia area may be completely shocked by the article I am about to post. (Those who are unfamiliar with the area should go ahead and just assume that the last sentence was pure sarcasm.) Apparently…..oh goodness, I don’t think I can get through this without crying…..some of the vendors at Smiley’s Flea Market have not been selling legitimate products.

The News Article

Those of you affected by this news can schedule a counseling session with area ministers. However, you should be advised that Lance has taken a leave of absence from his job in light of this disturbing news. He was last heard mumbling something about how he thought his latest Snoop-Dog CD sounded a lot like Tomberlin and Chuck.

I love the fall. The weather is cool, the colors are brilliant, and the grass is no longer growing. I’m OK with winter. Sometimes it’s a bit cold for my liking, but the yard work is easier to accomplish and for the most part it’s tolerable. Spring is annoying because of allergies, but I can fight those with Benadryl and a nap. And, my yard is green….with weeds, but hey, it’s still green.

Summer? When I was a kid, I loved nothing more than not being in school…which summer had a lot of.  In general, things just slow down this time of year. School lets out, people start their vacations, grills ignite…you get the picture. It’s a relaxing time.

In the south, things slow down for an altogether different reason…It’s just too hot and muggy to do much of anything. And, if you’ve got to do it, you do it slowly. There’s no escaping the heat. Just walking across the parking lot drains my energy and I have to sit in my office in front of a fan for an hour before I’m back up to speed.  This week has been in the upper 80’s and I can already feel the affects of the heat and humidity.  The air-conditioner can’t cool me fast enough.

At night, there’s only a small amount of relief.  I go outside to breathe in the cooler air, but I’m attacked by thousands of mosquitoes.  (Apparently my blood tastes better than anyone else’s within a 6 mile radius.)  And every summer, I seem to find a new patch of poison ivy (I point you back to the fact that I’m allergic to everything that moves).  You’d think that after all the round-up that I’ve used the stuff would stop growing in my yard….nope.  It moves around the yard, laughing at me and watching me scratch all over…cursed little plant.

So, as you can see, I have some issues with summer.  It’s a good thing that I’m paying such close attention to the election.  I’m looking forward to voting for the candidate that promises to make my summers more bearable.  Hey, it wouldn’t be the first time the promised something they couldn’t deliver on.

I was driving to work today (which is good because running would take too long) and I heard an advertisement on the radio for a weight-loss drug.  I’m not going to name it, but one of the pictures on this post might just lead to their site.  There was one line in the ad that helped me to realize just how dumb advertisers are…and how dumb we are as consumers for buying this stuff:

“Do you want to lose 10 to 30 pounds or more?”

If you’re going to advertise that people can lose more than 30 pounds, then why specify 10-30 in the first place?  Does the “or more” refer to the number 30 (as in, you could lose 35), or does it refer to the entire range of 10-30 (as in, you could lose 20-40 pounds).  And does this drug really force people to lose a minimum of 10 pounds?  What if I want to lose 9.4 pounds…am I not allowed to purchase this product.  Let’s say that I lose 8 pounds and stop taking the drug.  Does it automatically take off the other 2, or will it add back on the original 8 out of spite?

So there you go…there are my shallow thoughts for the day.  Now you can make it through the rest of the day.

So, you’ve read my in-depth review of our meal. Now brace yourself for my stellar review of the play:

Wait…scratch that. Looks like Queen Kelley has already beat me to it. Here’s her review that uses fewer words, better imagery, and a lot less nonsense than mine. Go on, read hers first….I’ll wait here….

The music and the performers were all very good, but I was most impressed with the girl (woman, lady….female) that played the role of Rafiki. (UPDATE - Her name is Phindile Mkhize and she is a native of South Africa.  Apparently, she was on the original broadway soundtrack in ‘94…and understandably so.) Her ability to stay perfectly on key through some intense vocal work was simply amazing.

As far as the play goes, here are my two highlights:

After Mufasa’s death, there was a scene to deal with those in mourning. As the choir faded from their solemn chants, Rafiki, Nala, and Sarabi were left alone on stage singing their own laments. Each melody, similar to character’s grief, was unique and followed its own pattern. Amazingly, these melodies joined together and became interwoven to create a beautiful sound that echoed across the entire theater. The scene was incredibly poignant and when the lights closed out, I’m pretty sure that my wife may have let a tear or two slip away.

Early in the show, Mufasa sat with Simba and told him about the kings of the past. The song “They Live in You” was introduced and to be honest, it sounded like a regular ‘ole song to me. Fast forward to the second act. Simba was trying to come to terms with the man/lion that he should be. As he began to realize what he must do, Rafiki and Nala move into a reprise of that same song, but with the words “He Lives in You” emphasizing Mufasa’s relationship with Simba. The laments mentioned earlier started with a chorus and ended with quiet solos. This song was the opposite. It began slow, and was then filled with a chorus of voices. Rafiki went on a vocal run that I’ve rarely heard before. There’s really no way to express the goosebumps that I got during that song. Not only were the vocals stunning, but the lyrics were compelling, and the actors and effects were almost perfectly choreographed to portray that emotion. I don’t know if the original writers were aiming for an allegory, but that song could probably be performed in and number of churches and the congregation would be none-the-wiser. (Well, the lion costumes might give it away.)

So there you go…I suffered through a meal and a show with my wife. I hope that she’s aware of all the sacrifices that I make for her.

*Photos are all taken by Joan Marcus from the New York showing. I would have put some of our own pictures up, but the whole “no photography” rule was tough to get around.

On occasion, my wife talks me into letting someone else watch the girls, and we take some time away for a special date. This weekend, we drove up to my hometown and took advantage of my parents’ generosity. Late in the morning on Saturday, Queen Kelley and I stole away and drove to downtown Atlanta for a special date.

Our date started with an amazing lunch at Cafe Intermezzo. The city was quiet, as was the restaurant. We even had a room all to ourselves with a table by the window. The view was beautiful as we watched construction workers going to and from lunch. Here’s a photo of the interior of the restaurant taken from our table.

Kelley debated her menu options, but I settled pretty quick on what I wanted. Usually things with “Alfredo” in the name go to the top of the list so the Spicy Tortelini Alfredo with Shrimp was a winner. Kelley finally ordered the Pasta Primavera. Here’s our quaint little table with our quaint little lunches.

The waitress must have known how quickly my interest wains, so she made sure that I had different colored noodles. Every single one, I might add, was filled with cheese.

My allergies had been bothering me most of the morning, but the “spicy” portion of the alfredo cleared those away. I didn’t really care for Kelley’s dish, but she loved it and I suppose that is what counts. Mine was awesome. Cheese-filled noodles in a cheese-based sauce with a light covering of cheese. Now that’s a good meal.

After that, I was informed that this location just so happens to have tons of desserts. Here’s how it works…There are two large cases filled with large desserts. You go over and look at these delectables to see which one you might like to try…but all you do is stand there drooling. Eventually, you mumble something to the waitress and she guides you back to your seat. While you wait for your desserts to arrive, you and your date become giddy with excitement.

Kelley got “Derby Pie” which was a bunch of chocolate, nuts and sugar cooked together. It probably wouldn’t have tasted very good with all that sugar crammed into a small space, so she had them add some ice cream to it. The waitress interpreted my droolen-mumbles as “White Chocolate, Raspberry Tort.” Here’s what it looked like:

I didn’t care for the cake at all…

As we finished our meal, we relaxed and breathed in the atmosphere. Peace. Quiet. No Kids. Good Food.

It was an excellent start of a date. The it was on to the show…

There’s this guy I know who is a journalist. I keep wondering when he’s going to read my blog and come to the conclusion that I’m an insanely great writer, full of insight and sophistication. But just to make sure that he understands that I am versatile, I take a little time on occasion to work on my investigative journalism skills. Let’s see what this attempt has dug up.

Fresh off the presses from the latest trade magazine in the Orient comes these advertising beauties…

This ball holds a “realistic dolphin”. The ball is 1 and 3/8″ in diameter. How many dolphins have you seen that can fit into a tiny sphere?

These are little tools on a keychain…and the really work! I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been working on a project and needed a hammer that is slightly over 2″ long. Oh, and that time my really tiny pipes burst, I could have really used that wrench.

I know I’ve been having some fun at these people’s expense, but you gotta be honest, this description is like they weren’t even trying. I imagine that it was close to 5:00 on a Friday afternoon when they got to this one. “Hey boss, should we claim something like ‘You can really ride these ponies’?” and the boss yells back “Nah, it’s too late to worry about outrageous claims…let’s just say that they look pretty.”

That’s all I have for this installment. If any newspapers out there would like to employ my keen journalism skills, you can get in touch with me on the contact me page. If you are a television station, then you’d not only get access to my keen journalism skills, but you’d be able to watch as I dazzle the screen like none other before. Think it over…let me know. I’ll keep looking through this magazine while I wait.