Punch Drunk Love

Remember when punching was okay? It used to be a sport...a fun little game...light-hearted fun. There was the buddy punch...the little soft punch-push to the shoulder or the cheek of your pal. Or the slug-bug...a fun, travel game with the family and friends. And the tootsie pop. I remember as a kid (who knows who came up with it and why)we would eat those tootsie pops and save the wrappers. If the wrapper had an Indian (politically correctness overlooked) and a star by its bow and arrow...you got to have free reigns to punch someone. Now the wise old owl, from the tootsie pop commercials, tried to get kids to buy into a different game...a game where you guess how many licks it takes till you get to the center of the tootsie pop...but we're the kids of America (whoa, oh) and all we wanted to do was sucker-punch!

It takes two to tango, but I'd settle for too many cooks...

I could be completely wrong here, but it seems to me that most everyone I've ever talked to about this subject agress...if there are only two people dining together...sit across from each other. And yet, it seems like I can't go out to eat without seeing a couple hip-to-hip. Number one, this makes for conversing with each other to be an awkward task. You have your food in front of you, but you want to turn and talk to the person next to you. I think that you sit next to each other when little conversing is expected (i.e. rollercoaster, movie theatre). The only time that you sit next to each other and are still supposed to talk is in the car. Two rules of social dating and pda...don't sit on the same side of the table and don't walk one in front of the other with hands intertwined (aka junior high walk)...it just makes everyone uncomfortable.

But aside from those that intentionally sit in this socially taboo position, how about the people that don't want to do so? For instance, Kyle, Cortney, and I were all dining at the Macaroni Grill last weekend. I got up to go the bathroom and when I came back...there they were, snuggled up next to each other on one side of the booth. It was quite comical to me because there were no intentions, and yet anyone that walked by them during that period of time judged them deeply for sitting as they did. All in all, I think its hilarious. I was literally laughing out loud when I returned to the table. I think I might purposefully try and desert people in this position whenever I see the chance.

I enjoy making people feel awkward, and if you are intentionally breaking the two rules of pda to make others feel awkward...then break away like a gym teacher's swishy pants.

Lady in the (pink) Water

Generally, when I go out to eat, I just prefer to get water. On a rare ocassion I'll get something else, but generally, I love the H2O. However, there is one thing that can ruin water. Some people like lemon with their water; whereas others enjoy a lime or cucumber. But no one, and I repeat no one enjoys the polluting of pink lemonade. I understand the pickiness of tap versus filtered water, and all the like. But when you go to pull down that little lever to get your water from the soda fountain, don't forget, someone probably had pink lemonade right before you, or the spout has not been cleaned for sometime. Either way...pink water is a "no, no".

Who says that?

You know the saying, "You say to-may-to, I say to-mah-to"? Seriously...who says "to-mah-to"? No one.

Discipleship is awesome...

My boy Jared...being who God made him to be...

The Line of Pressure

You know, you go to a restaurant and you get the bill. You think, "hmmm...what should I tip them?" But you go and get fast food or something quick, and you run that credit card...then you get the slip back with that dreaded tip line. There is so much pressure as you sign. First of all, they're looking over your shoulder. Secondly, you feel like you should probably put a total so that they don't charge you for a tip when you didn't put one down. Doesn't it feel like insult to injury when you write down that total definitively saying, "I don't want to tip"? Basically, I never know what to do...so I usually give in and tip a dollar just so that I don't feel so bad about it. Yes, I'm the sucker that gives into the pressure. And now I have no money.

Bratty Bratz

My younger sister and I used to fight constantly. When we were little, we would simply pick fights with each other. Its strange how often siblings do this. I remember getting into verbal fights, bantering back and forth, for quite awhile...and for some reason frequently in the car. Life is not like Full House despite what many people might think. In fact, its as far from that as possible. If I have to hear another "Sorry Deej" from Stephanie I might hurl. I'm pretty sure that parents make their kids watch these shows with hope that their kids will mimick this lifestyle...but of course that doesn't happen, kids just mimic video games and other violence.

For me, it was an ultimate satisfaction to call my sister the dreaded "b" word...BRAT! She would give me a great gift of appaulled reaction...and I knew that this was the key to winning the fight. Doesn't it seem weird that little kids are now calling each other names that we never would have dreamnt of voicing, especially in the presence of our family. But nonetheless, kids today shout a completely different "b" word towards each other, siblings, and maybe even authorities (i.e. teachers, parents, etc.). What has happened? Is there going to be a new "s" word...

The Dreaded "D" Word

This might be a bit more serious than most of my previous posts, but I've lately been thinking a lot about what many people label, "The plague to American families...divorce." Sometimes, I wonder what this does to influence the youth of today. I come from a divorced home, but have not thought about it much on the grand scheme of things. Last night thanks to the miracle of DVR, I watched the teen drama, One Tree Hill. One thing that the character Brooke Davis says as she's applying to be an adoptive parent is, "I don't come from a two parent household, I come from a no parent household." Her reasoning for this was to point out the neglect that she had growing up by her parents. Obviously, this is fictional and a little extreme, but I started to wonder how divorce and "broken homes" are viewed by the younger generation. With the frequency of divorce or even kids brought into the world to a single parent home, one has to wonder what the perspective is. Brooke was obviously upset about the lack of direction and support she was given, but at the same time, blame was strictly put on her parents. But then we see movies like Juno, where Juno McGuff flippently talks about sex and having a baby, but when it comes to divorce she seems to break down and still find so much value in a "traditional" home. Overall, yes, "broken" homes are everywhere, and you have to entertain the idea that there are probably many "broken" homes where there has been no sign of divorce as of yet. But I haven't lost faith in the All-American family...but I don't know exactly what that family unit looks like. Regardless of the specific events, I tend to think that no matter what, most kids are going to take a divorce or separation pretty hard, but how that affects the majority of young people, since so many come from a home that has experienced this, might begin to think of divorce as benign. Hopefully, morals are not inextricably attached to this ideal of family.

A Little Tunage

What do you think Connor Oberst's message is in this song? What was he trying to say? I really love that Bright Eyes frequently writes in a unique narrative format that paints a picture, but not a picture that seems to fit together completely. In some ways, I like to think of his lyrical genius much like many thought of various impressionistic artists and abstract/multi-media artists during their revolutionary upswing. His song fits in a way that seems so unfitting. What message do you get?

The Cleanse Song

Hear the chimes, did you know that the wind when it blows
It is older than Rome and all of this sorrow
See the new pyramids down in old Manhattan
From the roof of a friend's I watched an empire ending
Heard it loud and long the river's Om
Time marching on to a madman's drum

Don't forget what you've learned all you give is returned
And if life seems absurd what you need is some laughter
And a season to sleep and a place to get clean
Maybe Los Angeles, somewhere no one's expecting
On a detox walk through a Glendale Park over sidewalk chalk
Someone wrote in red, "start over"
So I muffled my scream on an Oxnard beach
Full of fever dreams that scare you sober
Into saltless dinners

Take the fruit from the tree, break the skin with your teeth
Is it bitter or sweet? All depends on your timing
Like a meeting of chance with the train station glance
Many lifetimes had past in a instant reminded
Of a millstone house in a seaside town
When your heart gave out in a mission bed
So your wife gave birth to a funeral dirge
You woke up purged as a wailing infant
In Krug Thep, Thailand

Hear the chimes, did you know that the wind when it blows
It is older than Rome and our joy and our sorrow

Gal Pals

What makes girls think that its cool to dress like each other, then go out for the day? It never works out well...I mean, who told girls that this was a good idea?

What a start to the day...

Have you ever woken up, gone to get your coffee, and had it be terrible?!? In the back of my mind I hear that song,

"Everyone makes mistakes so why can't you..."

But all I want to say is..."No! Don't make a mistake on my coffee." It's the first thing that I have in the morning, and without wanting to, the way that my coffee experience goes in the morning really does affect the rest of my day. And this morning, I tried this coffee place in Sellwood, OR...and I must say...not good. Its lukewarm, watery, no flavor, and has chunks of ginger root in it...literal chunks. They kinda made good foam, but other than that, bad experience. Hopefully, I can overcome it, and have a good day. But first things first, I better go and get a good cup of coffee.

If you have to, If you have to, If you have to let it linger...

I hope that you have all realized by now that the Subway $5 for any footlong sub is amazing! Let's go ahead and just state that without discussion. Yes, places like Quiznos and privately owned delis are far better, but nonetheless, you can't beat the price. I myself really enjoy the Subway Club. But since the upswing in frequenting Subway, I have realized a stench. You know how you might go to a place like Mongolian BBQ and come out smelling like it? Well, Subway has its very own unique smell. It wasn't until Marc, Stephanie, and I went to Blockbuster the other day, and all three of us realized how much it smelled like Subway in there. There was a distinct smell that we all recalled and attributed to Subway. Have you ever been walking around and smelled something that reminded you of your childhood? Isn't weird how a smell can rekindle so many memories?

The Feeding

I understand...sometimes a kids gotta eat when a kids gotta eat. However, who decided that floppin' one out and breast feeding in public is aight? I mean, doesn't it seem a little strange to you? I understand that there's purpose and reason, but at the same time, I really don't care to see it. We obsess over our strong dislikes of pda all the time. Using deduction, this can only be concluded that we don't mind seeing the act of certain things, but its the REASON or lack thereof. Evidentally we're okay with a little kid feeding on his/her mother's bosom, but not with two legitimate people showing affection through physicality. Perhaps this is much like how it's permittable to take your child, of the opposite sex, into a public bathroom as long as they're not "too" old. However old "too" old is. Let's just be happy that little kids aren't like Family Guy's Stewie.

Wrastlin'...

I proudly plead ignorance on this topic...but why is it that girls want to wrestle? Being a basketball player, I never have given much thought to the subject. But then the other night, a bunch of us were hanging out and the topic surfaced. Eeyore gave an invigorating argument for the discussion of basketball vs. wrestling (or wrastlin'). One point that he made was girl wrestlers. As far as I can tell, girl wrestler's are messed. I mean, they are one of two things...either they want to go roll around with nearly exposed dudes (if so, that seems like they're a little too excited about the chance...and really, if this is their chance to do so, they MUST be messed) or they don't see any sort of arousal in it...and are just in for the sport (which means their names are probably Helga or Charlie...aka men). All in all, girl wrestlers are messed. However, wrestling stat girls...they're a completely different breed. Guys that go out to meet their opponent would much rather see the cute girl taking his stats down, then march up to the girl that exposed her weight the same as your own. Sorry girls...but if you want to get the guy...wrestling as a sport isn't the way to do it. Take Chyna for instance, she is a ridiculous example of steroidial overdose thus concluding her to be frigid. Sad I know. If we really dig deep, I know this exposes some prejudices and sexism, but in all actuality, I just don't get it.

The Meaning

I realized after talking with various friends that I had not written about why I chose the title that I did..."The Story is in the Soil". Really, this name came about because of my love for the ever-awesome musician Connor Oberst also known as Bright Eyes. I love the rhythmetic guitar driven melodies and lyrical genius reminiscent of Bob Dylan. Truly Connor Oberst is amazing! But since listening to Bright Eyes and loving most all of his albums, "Lifted or the Story is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground" is my first love.

As I have meditated on the meaning of this album, I have discovered much application to my own life. For instance, I have found spiritual meaning that possesses me to be more motivated to evangelize effectively. Everyone has their own story and we see the fruit of the seed that was planted within them...sometimes years later. I've also discovered that there is much truth in the concept of reason. Really, the reason in which things are the way they are is not always a mystery. In fact, we uncover many clues that help us see what makes the world spin. So, I decided upon this name for my blog because I find it fascinating to think about the things that are generally looked over...and ponder over reason, despite a definitive. Basically, I see the plant/tree/fruit, but wonder about the seed...why not blog about the wonder? About the growth?

Seatbelt-ema...

So last night, I was hanging with the usual peeps...and "seatbelts" came up in conversation at two different times. I realize, that this is not that exciting of a post, but seriously, when do you ever talk about seatbelts? Generally, I only ever mention seatbelts when we're checking to make sure people have them on and fastened. And even then, it's kind of a give and take sort of situation. I remember riding in our '67 Chevy pick-up with my dad, and there weren't even working seatbelts in the cab...so in all actuality; seatbelts almost never come up in conversation. Last night though, our new-found Fruitland friend received what I've decided to call, a "seatbelt-ema". In other words...the seatbelt fasteners, that are anchored in the seat sticking straight up, did exactly that, it went straight up the chute. What an odd situation; and yet, I have to wonder how often this has happened to other people. Granted, only a native Fruitlander would ever voice this occurence (Just kidding Ms. Raul) and yet, we've all crammed into cars before and it is a distinct possibility that others too, have received a seatbelt-ema. Fruitland...you're not alone (probably).

The Evolution of Language

The return of leggings, flannels, and aviator sunglasses have proved to be a fairly smooth transition into the re-birth of what some might consider "fashion". But isn't it strange how things come in and out of style? If you ponder about it too much, it kinda makes you feel like the most un-original person ever. In fact, it makes me feel like there is no hope in finding something totally new. Music, clothing, movies...it's all recycled.

Language is one thing that I think might be the exception. The other night I was sitting with my roommates watching the fantastic HBO show, "The Tudors". I started thinking...can you imagine if we still talked in that sort of manner? In that style? It was so formal and proper. And as far as I can tell, very few aspects of language are recycled...many sustain their spot in language, but few leave and come back. The term "peace" might be one word we see that resurfaces from time to time as a "cool" slang. But what about our grandparents..."whipper-snappers" or "golly"...or our parents, "geesh" or "in a jiffy" or "put 'er there"? In ten years from now, will it be weird to hear people say things like "take it easy" or "what up"? I think that language is fascinating...and I wonder what other phrases can seep through the tyranical ever-judging abyss of time.

Spare Change

Isn't it ironic that some people are deathly afraid of change and might search their entire lives for a plateau of comfortability; where some people feel off balance without a little variety and change in their lives? I often wonder if change bothers people because it is not a controlled scenario. If I choose to change a situation, I of course feel completely satisfied with the change, but the others that my decision effects might not feel this way. It really is a paradox.

I personally attributed much of my need for change to my childhood. I grew up moving year after year, making new friends each grade, and settling in to a temporary bedroom. I figured this is why I want change...I want anything other than a mundane-life. But I am beginning to wonder, can I spare to not have change? I love changing jobs...houses...careers. How is this going to help/hinder my future? I know that I'm not afraid of commitment, but I am afraid of boringness.

To change, or not to change? Is there a better perspective, or must we surrender to the idea that life is a process...change is necessary.

Feed your kids!

We live in America...the land of the free...home of the McDonald's. We stuff ourselves passed fullness, and yet kids today are still eating playdough. What's the deal? Why is it that kids eat playdough, and glue, and glitter, etc.? The reason can't be that they aren't eating enough. Maybe they're just bored...or curious. I wonder why?

Inspiration

When someone talks about inspirational calendars I always think of the climber, with one hand dramatically gripped to the cliff...hanging in mid-air...and the line reads something like "Perseverance" or something to do with "living" life. I began thinking about other months of inspiration like the hang-glider and such. Who really got inspiration from these pre-x-gamers? Did someone really see a climber risking his/her life at sunset as inspiration to go and persevere through their mediocre job? I wonder...how did someone make money on this concept? Granted, people have made money on far dumber things (i.e. pooper scoopers, koosh balls, and those little "pill-like" things that expand into little animal shaped sponges in water), but let's all be honest, inspirational calendars...they've got to be on this list. Let's take a hippie's point of view:

"Art is my life, and my life is art...every drop in the ocean counts" -Yoko Ono

Be inspired...or not.