My Palladian is level 57...

(Nick) So the other day...

For those of you that don't know, I now have a lady in my life... that isn't my mother... or a pet. I know what you are thinking... I was shocked too. What is even more shocking is that my heterosexual life-mate, Eric, has a lady as well.

We interrupt this blog to bring you a definition:
Heterosexual Life-mate..: noun - a person of the same sex that is pledged to live with you (purely in a heterosexual way) if neither of you are married by the age of 40. So you can live out the rest of your celibate days with some form of companionship.

So Eric and I got to do something we have never done in the 15 years we have known each other. We went on a double date. Eric, Melissa, Charissa, and myself went to a fair. It was a small event near Melissa's house. But every time I go to a fair I remember how much fun they are. We got funnel cakes, gyros, nachos, beef, and lemonade shake-ups. mmmmmm.

Eric decided to participate in a "Bible Jeopardy" game at a church booth. He figured with me and Charissa (who is also a minister) standing with him, he was sure to knock this thing out. Between all four of us... we basically flunked Bible Jeopardy. I blame my parents for never enrolling me in Bible Bowl, or giving me any brains to go with these dashing good looks and impeccable fashion sense I received from them. And by "them" I mean my mother.

So after trying our hand at Christianity... Eric turned to Voodoo Witchcraft. That sucker paid like $20 to have his palm read. She did the Tarot Cards and then started the palm reading. Why don't they just put a sign out that says "Hot girl will say nice things about you while rubbing your hands $20" At least that would be honest, and I don't think they would loose any business. Charissa and I just laughed and I think Melissa started to get a little jealous. (Considering that when Melissa and Eric first met in the Army her first words to him were, "HEAD BUTT ME!" and then she beat him in wrestling by hitting him in the head with a chunk of ice... I didn't want to know what she would do to that 90lbs palm reader flirting with her boyfriend.)

So the three of us sat at an empty booth next to the palm reader and pretended that we were giving away my half-drunk mountain dew and made up what the reader was saying. Eric was played by Melissa and I played The Hot Reader. This reminded me of another situation with Eric at the Sandwich fair... but that is another story.

The night ended hot and sticky, but with good music from an 80's-90's cover band and Eric dancing on the table. Classy. Ah, those summer nights.

Pictures of the Future

There is a man I pass on my way to work. He is the kind of salty old man that compels young women to, "ohhh"'s and "how cute"'s in the daylight. But in the dark they might cross the street and huddle together giggling to ease the tension. He has the look of hard living, maybe a widower who has seen alot of life and most likely calls young people "hippies" as his hand absently-mindedly touches his Navy tattoo on his forearm.

I see him just about every other day. He walks his dog (who may be as old as his master) up and down this stretch of timber with a walkie talkie in his back pocket and a massive unlit cigar protruding a full seven inches from his lips. The only thing that changes is his attire... and this only changes seasonally. In the summer it is knit shorts with a v-neck white t-shirt and black socks. In the winter it is full coveralls with a bearskin hat. But always an unlit cigar, a walkie talkie, and his faithful hound.

I'm not quite sure what to make of him... I never quite work up the courage to stop and talk to him. But I want to know.... "Why the unlit cigar?" "Who is on the other end of that walkie talkie?" "Why carry either?" "Does he ever actually smoke the cigar?" I imagine all kinds of weird scenarios like the cigar was given to him by a famous general in WWII, and he never smokes it, and he has the walkie talkie because he just likes to listen to the truckers on the CB channel because he is lonely and sometimes jumps on to talk about hippies. Or he walks his dog because it belonged to a friend that has since passed on, and even though he is reluctant to do so... he doesn't even like dogs... a promise is a promise. I don't want to stop and ask because I'm afraid in reality he walks his dog for the exercise, doesn't smoke the cigar cause his doctor told him not to, and has the walkie talkie in case he falls and breaks his hip.

The only conclusion I can draw is people are more interesting when you don't know anything about them.

I Don't Know What Is Going On Anymore...

So, I was driving today in Naperville on route 59, so I obviously have time to think about WHY I CHOSE TO DRIVE IN NAPERVILLE ON 59! In front of me was a small sports car that was getting on my nerves. It was a 98 Talon or some kind of car they don't make anymore because they are small and the engine revs like a race car as it putts along at 35 mph. The simple idea of cars like that driven by guys in Oakley's and wife-beaters showing off his barbed wire tattoo is enough to make anyone furious, but I wasn't furious. I was annoyed.

You see every different car has different blinker patterns. Usually they correspond with the car type. A turn signal on a Lincoln Continental is perfect for Grandma because it blinks with the lethargy that matches the drivers attitude of "All get there someday... if I don't die." This turn signal blinked 90 times a minute!!! I was like, "Chill out... you're turning... I get it." It was so annoying, like some spastic yelping poodle, or some ADD kid all cracked out on Kool-Aid. Did the makers of this car just have too much coffee, or did they think this would be a selling point? This car is fast... everything about it is fast... the engine = fast... the tires = fast... the turn signal = so fast, it will send the person behind you into epileptic fits! Now that's fast!

I'm going to track down these people and eat their young.

Conference

Melancholy

A breakthrough with my team.

Inspiration! Understanding! Praise!

Lofty goals.

Hard talks.

Am I doing anything right?

So far to go.

Too soft... too callus...

Stop dragging your feet.

Plan for the future... Leave room for God...

Reevaluate.

Refresh.

Time to go back to work.

God be my strength.

I Am So Ashamed, I Might Join the Military

It's just such a stark contrast. Where are the warriors? Where are the citizens? I'm struggling to wrap my mind around this and what it means. I just finished this book, and I've read quite a few of it's kind. I've become addicted to Celtic and Medieval history and lore. You know... Knights, kings, Arthur, all things old and glorious.

I read about a time that was a little more black and white... Or what gray their was, was easily dispelled by things like loyalty, honor, and dignity. Valor was Paramount! I don't think I am alone when I say that when I watch Braveheart or Troy or Gladiator that I not only want to follow a great warrior, but I want to be one. I want to win renown and glory by fighting a foe that is bigger and greater than me... to say a prayer and rush into to a fight to obtain glory and honor to God and country. I think there is something in this that speaks to men's souls. Surely, we were called to be great warriors.

But maybe glory is only won at the edge of a sword, and maybe valor can only be inspired by kings. The news today said that 8,000 military personnel have gone AWOL since 9/11. There is a First Lieutenant Ehren Watada that says that he will disobey orders go back to Iraq. NOT WATADA, but others in the media and country are encouraging soldiers to follow his example and refuse to fight. Some are actually encouraging the soldiers in Iraq to quit their post. The big discussion is "Is Watada a Hero or Traitor?" I don't count him as either. If he truly believes it is morally wrong, then let him stay and face the consequences of his actions which will most likely be a court-marshall and imprisonment. That is what he has chosen. At least he has the strength to take a stand and face his consequences. Those of you that have gone AWOL, I call you cowards.

Just listening to the radio this morning as they discussed this topic, I was ashamed. There is no other word for it. At first I thought I felt guilty for not serving in the military. But that's not it. I felt deep shame. I felt ashamed that our country is full of such weakness and cowards. Oh, that we would be like the Celts of old that were held by honor and fidelity to serve their country and king, and if a warrior stayed behind it was to his everlasting shame. Bottom line, when you sign up for the military you are a soldier. Not a cook, radio operator, or a truck driver. You are a soldier. Your job is to fight... not just one battle, but until you are no longer a soldier. You laid your life at the feet of those you serve... your people. It should be the most honored and revered position. It is a humble act of service. It should not be defamed by whinny weaklings who are just looking to wear a uniform and get free college, who run thinking that soldiers were not meant to fight, but bag sand and run drills. And as citizens we should honor the brave and teach our children that to die serving something greater than yourself is the greatest gift you can give.

I was so shamed this morning, I wanted to join up, to be a soldier first and a volunteer Chaplin and inspire men with words of everlasting glory and valor. Where are the warriors? Where are the Cymbrogi?

Vertical Horizon or Verizon?

I'm in a state of reevaluation. I was dipping some of these flour tortilla chips in this savory taco dip, when we hit a snag. I came up with no dip and only half the chip I started with. So I did what every God fearing man of honor would do. I when in after him. I took a new, young, health, strong chip... I looked it over... it was good... thick... no burn spots... only slightly pliable... so we went in. Try as we might, I was unable to free the other fragment. Now I have two chips that are mauled and no dip. I need a new game plan. Is it possible I may have to use utensils to eat chips and dip. The thought is beyond madness. Time to get creative...

Blog Neglect

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah... so I haven't posted in a while. There has been so much going on, I can never decided what to write about. So out of all the important events happening in my life... I choose this.

I saw a commercial the other day for a razor with four blades on the the front and one the back for shaping your sideburns. I was amazed. Not at the number of blades, or the shear frivolousness of the pain it would inflict if not used with the utmost care... but I had never considered until that moment the shear volume and magnitude of that single invention. There is not just one razor company, there are many. And each razor company employs not just one guy, but a "Development Team" to think this stuff up. In fact, right now there is a team of people that probably get paid a six figure salary to sit in a room and go... "what do we have now? Three razors? Let's make four... and put on the other side too... no... lets make it vibrate!" And this is happening at all the major male grooming companies. Then they send it to the team that actually makes the razor, then people are employed to make that machine that mass produces these four blade face fiestas. We may think it is stupid to keep adding more blades, but if progress stopped millions of americans might be out of a job.

Such fuss for a piece of plastic. Five blades... you might as well shave with a buck knife.

Another Awkward Encouter... Brought to You by Wal-Mart

So, I ran to Wal-Mart to grab something really quick. It's never that easy is it. I ran into four people I know and had to stop and talk. One of which is one of my best friend's ex-girlfriends.

What do you say in the moment?

"Hey how's it going?"
"Good."
"Do you see Jeff any more?"
"Yep."
"When?"
"uh, his wedding... to ... not you."

I conclude that running into your friend's ex is more awkward than running into your own ex. Because, at least I know why she is my ex. Girls often ask me why my friends broke up with them. What do you say? "Well... basically, you are weird and possessive and jealous... and crazy." Because if you say "I don't know" they don't believe you. But it is bound to happen... and it's going to happen at Wal-Mart.

Call Me Crazy...

So the other day, on my way to work out at 6:30 AM (flexes muscles with bloodshot eyes), I was listening to this Chicago morning show. I was shocked this morning for a few reasons. The first was that they were actually discussing a topic that was half-way intelligent. Usually, it is just celebrity gossip and funny things. However, that morning they were talking about the current events of all the politics surrounding illegal immigration. Unfortunately, I think the callers were still from the same audience that is more informed on Tom Cruise than George Ryan.

And as I continued to listen to the callers, I became more and more disturbed. There was call after call of people who basically said, "Well, really... Everyone in this country immigrated from somewhere (Europe, Mexico, etc.). So I don't see what the big deal is. Why would you want to keep these people from crossing the border?" Call me conservative or whatever, just don't call me crazy when I say this...

Why would you want to stop ILLEGAL immigrants!?! I don't know? Why would you want to stop bank robbers... I'm sure everyone in this country has made a withdrawal from a bank at some point in their life. And before you say "that is not comparing apples to apples" yes it is! One is the legal way of doing something and taking something you have a right to. The other is ILLEGALLY taking something you have no legal right to.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those crazy people that think we are being invaded by Mexicans. Those people are paranoid. I have no problem with people entering this country with visas, or work permits. I just don't understand how we have come to a place as a country that the people are mad at politicians for enforcing laws already in place.

The state of Illinois is basically talking about tightening up security so that ILLEGAL immigrants can't get a driver's license. I don't think this is out of the question since you have to have a STOLEN social security number to get a ILLEGAL drivers license. "but if they don't have a license they won't be able to drive or work..." Maybe they shouldn't be breaking the law then!!! And then who really suffers are the people who did the paper work and are here LEGALLY with student visas and such, because now they are always under suspect.

Yet I listen to caller after caller, say that we should just leave ILLEGAL immigrants alone and stop trying to stop them. Some times I wonder if I'm the crazy one...

What Would Christopher Walken Do?

Sometimes I find myself in awkward situations and I ask myself, "What would Christopher Walken do?

A woman came to me and told me she just doesn't know if she can control her teenage daughter.

"Bottom line... I'll drop her out a higher window. Meantime, I got better fish to fry." - CW

I was standing next to one of the high school kids at church when he graciously extended his hand to a three year old and said, "gimme five." The child's response was, "NEVER!"

"Hey, You're talking to my man all wrong here. It's the wrong tone. You better watch it, or I'll stab you in the face with a soldering iron. Hey, does your mother sew? BOOM. Get her to sew that. "

After spending an evening with one of your friend's new boyfriend that is a jerk... especially to her. She asks you, "So, isn't he great... what did you guys talk about?"

"First of all, he made me laugh, and that was very important... The fact that I was really enjoying this guy, and then I shot him anyway. And the same is true of him - he really enjoyed telling me that story. And you could see it was delightful, don't you think? It happens to end with me shooting him in the head. But up until then, wasn't it delightful?" - CW