God's Blessings Old and New

Maybe I’ve got it all wrong but at this moment I am so grateful to God for the gift of life and time and the year that was 2006.

I have stumbled and made mistakes, sure.

I have wasted precious time.

But I have learned things this year. I’ve learned that time is not slipping through my hands. I’ve done better with the blog and my journals to give some shape to the things I’ve done, thoughts I’ve had, to my life.

I’ve made progress on the dis, I’ve finally chosen a book project and am working steadily on that stuff – and am writing more and better songs than at any point in my life.

I love my job and things, for the most part, seem to be going my way there.

My son is learning and growing – he has a fantastic teacher and we couldn’t be happier with the school.

Despite being pretty f’in busy – time has been spent staying in touch with friends. I wish I’d shown certain friends a bit more of the love and support they deserve – but maybe I’ll work on that next year.

Finally, my love for Kim has grown so much in 2006. We still fight. Our ability to work as a team is at an all time high. I actually feel the passion in our love more than ever.

Whoever is reading this, wherever you are – God Bless and have a great 2007.

It'll Make You Feel Better

I have good, no - GREAT news to announce. Not that there is much in the way of news broadcast over this thing. Go here and be square:

http://boozemovies.blogspot.com/

My dear friend WTG offers something new in this peer to peer foray that is the bloggosphere. He is expanding on one of his articles published by Modern Drunkard Mag. There is a rhythm to these reviews – and rather than review reviews (which is stupid for anyone and worse for me) I will just strenuously suggest (?) – where’s Kevin Pollack when you need him – I strenuously suggest that you read for yourself and enjoy.

Link will be on the side shortly.

That’s what I always say isn’t it?

Remarks at the Funeral of Morton J. Frisch

December 26, 2006 (made by my teacher, Professor Gary D. Glenn)

Mort was of that generation which went to war to defend Western Civilization against an unprecedented threat which had arisen from within the West itself and even from within one of the West’s most civilized countries. But it was not just the West he defended. When I think of his wartime service, I think of him telling me about being stationed on the East coast England with an anti-aircraft group which tried to shoot down the V-1 bombs aimed indiscrimately at English cities. This defense of the cities and its civilians is the part of his service about which he spoke most memorably with me.

After the war, Mort was drawn to the study of political philosophy after the manner of Plato. The Platonic class to which Mort most belonged, I think, is that of the guardians. The Platonic guardians are warriors responsible for defending the city. From among the best of them, are drawn the lovers of wisdom who are to rule a just city.

Anyone who knew Mort at all, has to know that he had the soul of a warrior. Those who knew him well, especially his students and professional friends, knew him as a lover of wisdom. And those with experience of the world know how rare is the combination of the warriors’ soul and the love of wisdom. It is rare, I think, because these pull us in opposite directions. The warrior is drawn to defend the particular things about which he cares: his country, his family, his religious tradition. The lover of wisdom is drawn away from attachment to these particular things towards the things that are universal. Mort was one of those whose life was lived in the tension between those different and sometimes conflicting spiritual goods. And in his life that tension was, it seems to me, fructifying and mutually beneficial. The warrior in him came to the defense of the tradition of wisdom embodied in the books of Western political philosophy; and the wisdom in him came to the defense of that which was peculiarly his own; his family, his country, his students, and his Jewishness.

Strong loves, strong articulate convictions and a willingness to defend them with actions, even at risk of life, of comfort, and of peace of mind, characterized my friend.

I do not know whether he was a warrior before he went to war against the Nazis and in defense of Western civilization. But, if not, he became one then. And I do not know if he was a lover or wisdom before he encountered Leo Strauss at the University of Chicago in the late 1940's. But if not he became one then. And it seems to me that these qualities are the thread which runs through, holds together, and points to the unity of his life’s work: his military service to his country, his scholarly re appropriation and defense of Western political philosophy, his defense of the statesmanship of the American constitutional tradition, and his care and effort on behalf of his family and friends.

A life so lived, Mort’s life, was a blessing to his friends and a vexation to his enemies. And Mort would not want us to forget that distinction, even or especially in remembering him.

For the distinction between friends and enemies both justifies the way of the warrior and is the elementary introduction to what it means to be just. It is said in the Old Scripture [Proverbs 10.7] that “the memory of the just shall be for a blessing.” I take it one reason it blesses us is that it reminds us, by concrete examples from that life, of what justice is. The memory of Mort is that for me, even now, in my anguish. And I pray that it will continue to be that for us as we share with each other the stories of his life; and thereby remember with gratitude how his being with us made our lives the richer; even as we cannot now help knowing that his being gone makes them the poorer.

To the Family of My Teacher Morton Frisch

“Ha-makom yenachem et'chem b'toch she'ar avelei Tzion vi'Yerushlayim.”

My teacher took great pleasure in introducing all his students to a world of questions, of wonder. As a student of philosophy himself he embraced the word in the sense of “loving wisdom” as much as the vocation of teaching. He knew that the first and most important step towards wisdom was wonder. In the past century, dominated by dogmatists, pretending to be philosophers or prophets and political religions that promised hope only to deliver horror, Morton Frisch stood with a group of others who understood how to question politics. Like the interlocutors in the Republic, he never came out and told us the definition of justice – but he always knew what it wasn’t.

In times of war and in times of peace, Morton Frisch was a soldier for wisdom. If he was a soldier for the truth it was not the kind of truth that comes out in doctrine and shoved down a man's throat until it is all he knows. It is searching, guided by the most pressing and seemingly eternal questions. We are reminded that what made Plato's Socrates great is that he asked the question "What is...?" regarding everything. What follows from asking that question is another - "How should I live?" Professor Frisch reflected this love of wisdom to students and all that knew him.

Sometimes this love of wisdom required the courage to ask dark questions. Professor Frisch possessed this courage and posed these questions, but with a great care for the young minds who were investigating these things for the first time. You would not leave a course on the Protagoras or the Gorgias without knowing that there was still something solid under your feet. That last solid thing might be Socratic skepticism, but for many of us, that was better than nothing.

Morton Frisch's gift was the ability to help people see and experience "consolation" in philosophy in a dark world. One of his last works exhorts the reader to turn to these eternal questions as both rock and compass. His work as a teacher and now his memory aide me in continuing to find both direction and consolation in this world. The world is truly less dark because he was in it.

Chaos In Our House from Doing the Bathroom

It Began Innocently Enough

The boy lost his first tooth.

Lucky Ass Miracle

Come she told me
Sump pum pum pum pump
The sump pump’s broken
Sump pum pum pum pump

I have no shit to bring
Sump pum pum pum pump
To fix this fucking thing
Sump pum pum pum pump
Pum pum pum pump
Pum pum pum pump

Yesterday Kim’s beautiful Christmas tree, the one we’ve had for 12 years fell over. One of the legs cracked. Alex said “This is the worse day of my life.”

After the first failed outing to find a suitable replacement tree, Kim and Alex met me at home. We looked at our fallen friend and were sure we’d find another one even though we’ll pay through the nose. Kim wanted to get a few last minute decorations from the basement.

She went downstairs.

She screamed.

She found her decorations.

They were floating.

The old sump pump died and we had a major flood in the basement.

*pictures coming soon

Water had just about reached Alex’s playland and my office.

We got the old dead soldier out of the hole and put the new guy in…

All three of us working together.

Splashing in the cold, sump hole water-filled basement.

When it was over and we saw the new sump pump work its Christmas miracle, Alex said: “I love our old house.”

This may turn out to be the best Christmas ever.

Surge Over There

It certainly is a powerful image or piece of rhetoric having soldiers on the ground urging the new Defense Sec to send more troops to complete the mission. Most of us back here, whether we are fer or agin the war, want the soldiers to have all that they need. It may be my biggest beef against Rummy – that he sent troops in harm’s way without a plan to get them home after mission success. When we hear the soldiers asking for more troops it is not easy to think them delusional or criticize them the way we can their civilian leaders.

There is definitely an “I” in Iverson.

It tickles me to see him playing second banana in the Denver news to fucking snow.

Alex and I played Big Buck Hunter at Twins. After my second Double Bull Bonus the boy said, “Dad, these guys look like Santa’s reindeer.”

I said, “Kid if they are we’re getting yellowcake for Christmas.”

I had to replace some of the lights Alex and I put away/trashed last year. We also picked up gifts for the Grandmas and did various other missions for mama.

Not to be confused with Mission of Burma.

I’m warming up to the BS of the holiday season. Tonight we even had Christmas music on in the house. The Brian Wilson record from last year, Elvis, Bingo and James Brown’s Funky Christmas all were blasting as we decked the halls and threw away fucked up lights.

$$ Related News

My Cousin Ole Kobe (the Greatest Guitar Player Ever over on the side) just put up an interesting post about investments. He knows something about this on a larger level (managing packages for the company he works for) and I’m sure on an individual level as well. I don’t know shit about the stock market so I like listening to those who know more than me.

The number of people who know more than me about a variety of things could fill the Superdome.

Who Dat?

The only semi-serious conversation I ever had face to face about the stock market was with a guy who inherited a bunch of money and then he doubled or tripled that junk. I thought this was a fine thing to do. He was like the good servant in the NT who went out and invested the money that was entrusted to him and brought back more. If I inherited a bunch o’ $$ I would’ve been like the dumbass that buried it in the ground for fear of losing it. I know the story is not supposed to be about money but that is neither here nor there.

Who Dat?

My friend who increased his inheritance told me: “Tech stocks alone aren’t going to make anyone rich unless they’re Bill Gates or somebody like that. At any given time, ¼ to 1/3 of my portfolio has companies with trucks, planes, ships and factories. You need a base of investments with stuff – actual property not 8 cubicles and a server, or a Petri dish full of really promising pisswater. You need blue chip stock just to make the other investments work and make the whole thing grow. As far as I understand it, the stock market was never intended to make the “new rich” although it does that. But let’s face it, my stock broker isn’t worth shit without me. If you can’t start out with a solid base and have a quarter of a million dollars on hand that you can lose at any given time, the odds are not in your favor of doing anything significant. If you do, you’re playing 9-Ball. You’re a banger and you probably got lucky at some point along the way.”

I appreciated his honesty. I thought it was a pretty punk rock thing to say, especially considering the drinking company we were in when he made those statements. But I hope there is something to OleKobe’s search for trends and principles.

And OleKobe, if you do find the mathematical secrets to success in trading, remember – your old buddy ed could use a hovercraft.

HOVERCRAFT!

Hell at this point, I’d take a swamp rat.

D I V O R C E

I just found out that people I know are getting a divorce. I’m sure people you know are getting divorced, but we’re talking about me here. I guess we’re always talking about me here.

What were we talking about?

Oh yeah, divorce. So these people I know are not going to be married anymore. I don’t know why they are planning not to be married anymore. I really have nothing to say about their divorce.

While I am sad for them, I am sort of proud that many of my friends seem to have pretty good marriages. The men I know speak of their wives with respect. To hear Dev, Chris and OD talk about their wives is to be inspired. These guys have their priorities in order. I’m not saying it’s bliss to be married to them (sometimes they drive me fucking nuts and I only see them once a week!).

There is nothing they wouldn’t do for their wives.

Read some of these blogs. My Cousin Mike worships the ground his wife walks on. My friend Khyle writes heartwarming and sometimes downright romantic entries about his lady.

And don’t forget my friend Grant and his unbelievably gorgeous wife or whatever the hell he calls her.

I hope my wife doesn’t think I’m attracted to Grant’s wife or I may be getting a divorce.

That’s not the point.

My buddy Bill and his wife make a great team and it is a joy to see their love grow.

To those who have been throught the pain of divorce or the break up of a long term relationship, I don't mean for this entry to be a finger in anyone's face. It's really hard to make it work. And this isn't a problem of today or modernity...although certain elements of the problem are highlighted now. There is a wedding speech in a Sam Pekinpaw movie where the judge basically says: "Marriage...is hard."

Just imagine how hard it would be to be married to a man of iron.

Maybe that's not always so bad.

I write about being lucky in marriage and I am. But I’m actually surrounded by people that realize how lucky they are and act accordingly. They do not take what they have for granted.

We are all sort of getting to “divorce age” – it’s like junior high all over again…but I think most of us are going to make it.

It won’t be easy…just ask my wife. As sad as I was to hear the news about this couple I thought it was worth writing about those that are making it…those that love their loved ones and know what they’ve got before it’s gone.

Ok, I better stop before I make myself sick...er.

Lord,

Thank you for the gift of love. Please be with all couples and help us see that love is the greatest gift we can give each other. It is said there is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for their friends. This teaching also seems to require us to be prepared to give our lives daily to our loved ones and not just forfeit them in some time of crisis. Let us learn to give our love freely and each day reflect the gift of your love.

Amen

Make a Wrong Noise Here

Rock practice tonight. We worked on a new riff that I ripped off from two different sources…

…one was this part in a Ploop song called “I Wish A Comet Would Fall on All the People I Hate” and the other ripped off part was from the middle of a Scissorfight song.

Thanks and much love to DC’s friend Stormy for telling me to check out Scissorfight. It was worth more than my time and my dime. They are truly the New Hampshire Mountain Men of Metal.

We also worked on Don’t Know and put a little pep in Dev’s new song.

At one point the conversation returned to the jazz album we will one day make.

The title for this week?

Listen to the Notes We Should Be Playing.

Closed the X

Fun weekend. Went over to Ben’s house and his parents had a holiday spread out for us.

NOT THAT YOU SICK BASTARDS!

I think a New Year resolution ought to be for me to drop that stupid overplayed expression.

When there are so many things to fix about me, leave it to me to pick something trivial.

Picked up my Dad’s Christmas present and then saw my pal the DC Liar and the unusual crew at the X (nobody calls it that). Laughed a bit too much and drank slightly more but that’s ok. I’ve tried so hard to be a good boy. I deserve to be a goof.

We all got it coming kid.

Where did Clint Eastwood come from?

Had my folks over to our house for Dad’s birthday and the Bears gave my pops a win.

Happy Birthday Daddy!

Number 5

Great week @ work but I’m glad it’s over. Many of us were doing other people’s jobs. In my room KK did my job, I tried to do part of PK’s job and PK did a job that hasn’t been invented yet. Friday was one of those days where there wasn’t time to pee. There were a few days like that this week and it seemed like the work day was 2 hours rather than 8.

Came home, Alex had some friends over and Kim and I cleaned the garage. Then the whole family curled up on the couch and watched the Bulls beat the Bucks. The boy loves Nocioni because he wears #5 (and the boy is 5).

I wonder if he’ll love the Prisoner next year.

On a serious note (and I never thought I would say this)...God Bless you Gov. Bush for suspending and reviewing your state's policy regarding lethal injection. May God grant your commission wisdom and courage as they undertake this difficult task. They will face hostility from all corners. May they do some good for us all.

Finally, in sentences of a different kind - Alex wrote his first original sentence this morning:

"I Go." (I'm quoting and crediting Alex so his army of lawyers don't join the Texas Big Drag in their lawsuit against my unoriginal ass)

But that is a great first sentence and believe me, it describes him perfectly.

I Go.

He goes and goes and goes and goes...

The Very Small

I get to use this kick ass, new microscope at work.

NOT FOR THAT YOU SICK BASTARDS!

I can see microphones and receivers from a brand new perspective. It could almost lead one to think about perspectival (not a real adjective) truths. I listen to these units that sound fine but when I look at a portion of the mic previously hidden from me…there are little frayed parts – and sometimes tears. I wonder to myself ‘Will this thing will come back in 6months distorted? – it sounds fine now’

I guess this has less to do with truth and perspective and more to do with how the very small can affect so much.

That kid putting his finger in the dyke…

Small pox virus coming from the mouths of Jesuits who thought they were spreading the Good News to the new world…

A tiny collection of blood on the brain of a Senator from S. Dakota…

Gee, how would ya like to be that surgeon. I hope it wasn’t Dr. Jack Shepard’s daddy.

Oh yeah, he’s dead.

Oh yeah, he’s fictitious.

Here’s some small and unreal news, and this is not a drill - - several of my students have found this blog.

Of course the prudent thing to do would be to shut it down but I’m not going to do that. These are nice kids who were just interested in finding out something about Niet (who’d dream that they’d use the internet?)…and they found our 2 week conversation from November of last year - - while I was struggling to come up with their paper topic.

At least one of the kids is planning to take one more class with me and that’s fine.

I’ve always lived in fear of my students finding out about my bands, my blog, my real name (Joey Joe Joe Junior Shabadoo).

It’s like they’ve been the Jack McGhee to my Dr. David Robert Frost Bruce Banner.

BAH! Stupid reference to puny Banner!

The point is I’m not running anymore. I’m drawing a line in the sand right here in the good ole blogosphere.

I'm not admitting to being me, mind you.

I doubt anything contained in these e-pages justifies the end of my teaching career (if I was the me that they think I am which I am not admitting to being).

If I am to be let go for anything in this blog it is my great hope that my thoughts on and prayers to my Lord, Jesus Christ will lead to my undoing…

…and not my wanton use of the term “douche bag.”

Stupid Um Yeah Jes blog – making the phrase “douche bag” sound all cool and all.

Tomorrow?

Thoughts on the rapture.

Dark Side

Last week my Cousin Mike wrote about a coworker who was talking on their cell in the crapper. Kim just got us a new phone package that includes internet. Guess where I’ll be blogging from people…

Alex, Joe and I were supposed to meet up w/ J and ChrisB for the Bears but it was too damned foggy.

This was going to be my big night off for grading, watch some MNF with the boys but it was not to be. Mr J told me to take my skirt offa my head. That sounds pretty manly to me.

What do I know?

Still busy with grading and stuff, but I’ve been cranking out a bunch of new songs. That's what I need more of in my life right? I need something that starts as a break but then turns into a big distraction because I start liking something that I’m working on. If I am lucky I finish it in 10 minutes (that’s usually a sign that I wrote something worth writing…any more than 10 or 15 minutes and I don’t know what I’m doing)…

….but even if I finish a new thing in 15 minutes, if I think it is good, I waste 45 minutes playing it over and over again.

There is no time saving system in my approach to the rock.

At least it has made me rich.

D’oh

Some band called Big Drag from the early 90’s in Texas has tracked us down. They are asking us to change our name. They even started a Blogger blog designed to inform the Blogger world that they were/are the one and only Big Drag. I’m going to reserve any comments or invectives until I’ve had a bit more time to think about the situation – although I love how ChrisB went Tourette’s Guy instantly…

I’M TOO PISSED TO GIVE A SHIT!

I may put up a link to their protest blog, but you all know how fast I put up links – the court case will long be settled, and we will all be dead by the time I get around to doing it. Speaking of court cases, this other Big Drag (if that was in fact their name) should be our biggest fans. Heaven forbid we ever make any money with this band – they will get paid.

Remember the wussy Nirvana? They got 50 grand I think – just for making those tea cup and china records circa 1967, 24 years later some dirty little punk kid turns into a radio friendly unit shifter – and the 1st Nirvana douche bags get a pay day. No one gets hurt.

Well almost no one.

To Any and All

…who may be interested, both of my jobs have gotten busy in the last week or so. This busy-ness has been and will continue to eat into my precious blogging time until Thursday or so.

I’m not off pouting in some corner of the internets.

Doing so could block off one of the vital areas in this series of tubes and prevent the free flow of our precious bodily fluids.

Dew Off of Freddie's Lily

Iraq Study Group gets an incomplete.

Ok, I get an incomplete. I need to read/listen/learn more.

Rummy gone, Michael Bolton gone, if they can get Dr. Rice to listen to reason some more good will come from the past election.

I did the update at work the other day and it was not a disaster. I missed one letter that I was supposed to fix. Here’s why it was embarrassing. At the bottom of the letter that printed it said:

“FIX THIS LETTER****************************************************”

So it is easy to see how I missed it.

I’m an idiot.

Gave the students the course evals and tonight was the last new lecture I have to give until the middle of January. My Weds are tough. Work hhe all day, go to office hours and talk for 2hrs and 40 minutes. Ok, maybe I am just a wimp and it’s not that hard.

My dad shoved rebar through a thousand degree furnace for 20 years….what the hell do I have to complain about?

Poor Hendry is sick as shit.

If I just made the deals that he did in the off-season, I’d feel sick too.

His squadron had to make the deals they did after winning 66 games. Soriano can rake and he is going to have to. J-Scmidt saved the Cubs from wasting money on his semi-injured ass/arm. Ted Lily just made Mark Buhrle’s accountant smile. If Lily gets 40 million one can only imagine what a World Series champion, left-hander who can throw 200 innings before breakfast will be offered when his day comes. If the Cubs are lucky Zito will sign with Texas (Borus knows how to make the Rangers overpay, hell he got them to bid against themselves when they signed A-Rod).

Zito will take the big money (that’s why you hire Borus, just like Crede did) and he will play in that terrible ball park in Arlington.

Good bye Freddie Garcia. He was the winning pitcher in Game 4 of the World Series. I wish him well in Philly.

If there was anyone you could count on for a one-hitter, it was Freddie Garcia.

Tit Dirt

Wazzuhmatta John Bolton? Not dedicated enough to the international mission to continue with NO PAY! Thank you God and Lincoln Chafee…in that order.

I can just see that jerk off, wandering around the UN with a sign that reads “Will renege on international agreements for food”

What a douche bag.

I’m sorry, what a diplo-douche bag.

I made him sound like some sort of dinosaur which is probably better than he deserves.

Hey, one last thing Boltin’. I serve my country for no pay when I write this blog.

At least everybody’s getting their money’s worth.

I know I’m supposed to try to be a serious Catholic, or that’s what I hope to become…not necessarily for the sake of being Catholic but to follow those teachings to learn to imitate and live in the love Christ intended for us…

Having said all that – I HATE FUCKING CHRISTMAS!

It is such a tired thing to say, I know – but I hate the Christmas season…the unnecessary buying for grown ups. I’d love to blow 2 grand on my kid for Christmas but there are other grown ups that I have to buy for and watch open Christmas presents on eve and day. BALLS!

THAT’S NOT MICKEY MOUSE! THAT’S TIT DIRT!

???

Having said that – I love getting my DC Christmas fix. Thanks for the new tunes that make the season of buying and selling bearable.

The sheer ass-fucking power of the Pansy Division will give me strength to go on in these dark days ahead until I can be released to that Little Town of Deathlehem.

ChrisB also gave me a ton of new music (or it’s new to me) including the 400 Blows tO’d has been talking up, the whole Gnarls Barkley record, more Air, John Legend, the Montevishu Orchestral Maneuvers in the Dark…and a lot more great, great shit.

I’ve already blogged about how lucky I am to have friends that give me tons of great music on almost a weekly basis. It really goes all the way back to my Cousin Mike. I wouldn’t know shit about the Velvet Underground, Bob Dylan or the Electric Prunes if it wasn’t for him.

BALLS!

Just kidding.

Not to mention living with Bill Garver on and off for 10 odd years and having access to his record collection. Some people will tell you they have an eclectic record collection because they own the Fray and the Black Eyed Peas. They are wrong. Bill owns everything from Charlie Patton to It's A Beautiful Day, from the Hot Fives classic recordings to Built to Spill, from Derek and Clive to Derek and the Dominoes...ok fuck that Clapton crap because Bill is too cool for all that. Here's the clincher: Bill has Don Rickles and Nick Drake CDs side by side. The end DJ.

Good practice on Monday. Joe and I had a long talk about how, sometimes, when we are really happy, we like to just be quiet and enjoy those moments.

Apparently we were miserable at the time because we talked about that shit for a half hour.

All in all it was a very confusing day.

Stupid Fans

No applause for the Bears defense or special teams at the end of the 1st half? Stupid Chicago sports fans. You can suck my dick. Do you remember when the Eagles knocked out the 13-3 Bears in the playoffs three years ago. Their QB was certainly better than Rex – but they won that game with hard hits and strong play on special teams (minus one lucky run back by the Bears) and defense. Do you remember? Husker Du? Of course not. You don’t remember anything worth remembering.

The Bears have 2/3 of the puzzle together and it’s not too late to give up on the offense. Rex sucks today and maybe for the past few weeks….but there is more to the team than the QB. Maybe you are the same fans who sat around waiting for Sammy Sosa to hit a meaningless 8th inning home run or you are keeping yourselves warm with a wig left over from mullet nite.

Maybe it’s cold there, I’m watching on my tv. I might not be a better fan but I bet I’m smarter than the fools who paid good money and are not applauding a decent defensive performance.

The defense and special teams, and o-line deserves better than you Chicago Bears game attendees. Let’s hope you don’t end up throwing garbage on the field or running out shirtless to take out an assistant coach on the Vikings.

What would Red Cashions say?

“That’s unsportsmanlike conduct on the shirtless father and son…knocking the Vikings special teams coach over and givin’ him the business while he’s down there. Minnesota ball, Firsssssssst dowwwwwwwwwn!”

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_Cashion

Trust

Kim and I went to see the new James Bond last night. Fun date movie. Is it the best Bond? I dunno. I liked it but I also liked Moonraker when I saw it so there you have it.

I’d say something about how happy I am that a Trojan was eaten by a Bruin but some might think a wild bear had wandered into the Walgreen’s contraception aisle. I’ve got a feeling that my thoughts on college football might be even more unwelcome than some of my baseball observations. I like the BCS (and part of me thinks I’m an idiot for doing so).

The last three weeks or so a running theme through the sermons of Monsignor Nelson and Fr. Godwin is how we can do nothing without God’s help. Every time we try to take everything on our shoulders – the buck stops here – it’s all on me…that’s when we are sure to stumble. Something I wrote in the harried early months of taking care of an infant…

Wake up and you’re someone’s daddy
Almost overnight
So much that you can’t do over so you’ve got to do it right
It’s all on you and you’re so confused
That you’re a stranger to your life
But the light is so much brighter
Shining in his eyes

Nothing’s ever been the same since the
Day you brought him home
Hurry up and wait and you’re always late and
You never are alone
No time for sin when you’re up with him for
More than half the night
And the night is so much brighter
Shining in his eyes

…whatever the merits of the lyrics – and whatever I thought the payoff was – in the hard work that turned to love for my beautiful son…

What made me so crazy and fucked up all the time and kept me running around like a fool was I was so sure that raising the kid was all on Kim and I. We were gonna make it together but it was all us.

It’s not all us or “all on me”. If it is there is no hope in the truly wonderful sense of that word.

If we are so self reliant – there’s no need for hope right? We don’t need hope or fate or faith if we can conquer anything.

I need the church for the sacraments. I need the church for her holy days of obligations. But most of all I need the church for the good sense that comes from men who remind me that I never accomplish anything alone.

Even if you don’t believe in ghosts, Holy or otherwise…so much of parenting relies on you taking the good and bad from your own childhood/family experiences. Your family teaches you, gives you great gifts (even in things you think were mistakes)…and those lessons help you throughout your life.

Acknowledging these things helps you take your first steps into a larger world, or at least a world in which you cannot and should not control everything.