Oh Happy Day

In no particular order, some reasons today is a great day:

1. When I put the iPod on shuffle this morning, the first song that played was Come Together by the Beatles! It’s one of my favorite, funky songs by one of my favorite groups.

2. With a huge home run by Pujols, the Cardinals finally won last night! Not long ago, they were up by 7 games but, before last night, had nearly wasted the whole lead away with a 7 game losing streak. I generally hate silly sports statistics, but, if they do not make the playoffs, they will have wasted the biggest lead enjoyed by a team in September that didn’t make the playoffs since 1938.

3. Jennie’s birthday is today – Happy Birthday Jennie!

4. Four days after the official end of summer, autumn is clearly here! I love cool weather and autumn is by far my favorite season.

5. To celebrate the end of her current rotation, Jennifer and I are going to seee Jackass 2 tonight! Those guys are totally stupid. Like a car wreck, I cannot look away.

6. Tomorrow is Friday!!!

Soapbox Moment

I visited a close friend and his wife this past weekend. Their house is huge and beautiful. It’s like a show house, or houses I’ve seen in a design magazines. They have three pure bred dogs. In addition to the company car, he has a Porsche for a weekend car. She drives a Range Rover Discovery. They were great hosts. I felt welcome the entire weekend, and they made obvious attempts to do things everyone enjoyed. Sadly, though, I found the house and their lives sterile. In my opinion, they have given in to maintaining the appearance of perfection in their lives. How utterly exhausting.

Before I wrote this, I thought quite a bit about whether I should post it or not. I was afraid I would seem like a petulant child complaining that my bike isn’t nearly as shiny as the neighbor’s new bike. I also feared that it would seem as if I am denigrating my friend, which is not my intent. In the end, though, I decided to go ahead because my friend and I have had conversations about lifestyles. He readily admits he has chosen a high stress career to maintain the lifestyle to which he and his wife have become accustomed. I couldn’t do it. I’ve had high stress jobs in the past. For me, it isn’t worth the impact on my entire life. Stress is pervasive; it cannot be compartmentalized.

All I’m really trying to say is that I do not generally find happiness in material objects and I certainly do not find happiness in other’s opinions about me. There are other things in life that are more important to me. I realize that it is an easy opinion to hold when I enjoy a relatively high standard of living. I also realize that I am truly blessed in that regard. But I have made choices in the past to limit my career growth. In exchange, I have been able to spend time with those I love, and do the things I love. Maintaining a healthy balance will, as long as it is in my control, continue to be a priority of mine.

Airport Observations

Watching people in the airport is absolutely one of my favorite things to do. The last time I flew, I saw many interesting people. I wrote down my observations of a few of them.

While waiting for our plane to arrive at the gate in Little Rock, Jennifer and I sat in the waiting area. Immediately to Jennifer’s left, a tall, muscular man, who appeared to be about 30, sat with his knees together with a baby lying, perpendicular to his chest, in his outstretched arms. I hate baby talk, but his cooing at and tenderness toward the baby was such a contrast to his physical appearance that I couldn’t help but smile at him. I wanted to take his picture, but didn’t want to interrupt the scene to ask his permission.

To my right, a family of four was spread out across almost an entire row of seats. The father was working on a laptop while his three children were each playing a Gameboy Advance. The youngest boy was sitting in the seat next to me. He frequently yelled, “Tag!” He was annoyingly loud, but he was clearly having a great time so I tried to ignore him. After he yelled it 6 or 7 times, his father, without looking up from his computer, asked, “Son, why are you yelling bag?” The child, clearly annoyed at his dad’s ignorance, replied, “Daaaaaaaaaaaaad. I’m yelling tag, not bag.” Distantly, his father replied, “Oh.” A few seconds later, the boy yelled, “Tag!”

While waiting at our connecting airport, we sat in a gate area and ate turkey sandwiches from one of the airport vendors. As we were eating, we saw a young woman strutting down the middle of the concourse. Her shoulder length, jet-black hair was stylishly shaggy and cut so that her long bangs shaped her face and accentuated her almond shaped eyes. She was wearing tall, spike-heeled boots, dark jeans, and a black shirt. Her shirt was loosely draped such that it revealed the olive skin of one of her shoulders and about half of her back. While I found her altogether lovely, I was truly amazed by the reactions of the people in the concourse. On both sides of the concourse, both men and women stared shamelessly as she walked by, some even craning their necks uncomfortably. I’m sure that audaciously dressed people, attractive or not, often turn the heads of others. Before that day, however, I had never personally observed such a blatant example. I loved it.

Something I probably shouldn’t post

Forgive me for dabbling in philosophy.

A few reasons I believe in God:

- The world’s existence and, humans specifically, cannot, in my opinion, be chance. That is not to say I disbelieve evolution. I think God gave us useful brains for a reason. If science tells us evolution is probable, I certainly am not educated enough in science to dispute the assertion. Also, I think interpreting the Bible (or any holy text) entirely literally is dangerous and ignorant.

- Why else do humans wonder why we were placed in the universe? Philosophy and science cannot, in my opinion, answer this question.

- The vast majority of humans, who have ever lived, cannot be wrong.

- Whether or not we want to admit it (existentialists take note), we all, short of a break with reality such as mental illness, have an inherent sense of right and wrong.

- When people are kind or befriend me, when they have nothing to gain from such kindness, it is, to me, the ultimate example of divinity.

Specifically, the main reason I believe in Christianity:

- This world is screwed up. Christianity explains why and provides a personal solution. With the possible exception of Buddhism, no other religion explains why. While Buddhism’s explanation is fairly similar to Christianity’s, Buddhism fails, in my opinion, to provide an adequate solution and certainly does not provide an adequate explanation of human existence.

Shameless Self Promotion

KUAR decided to air my This I Believe essay (if you are curious and haven’t already seen it already, scroll down about 9 posts). It will play Wednesday, September 20 at approximately 6:35 a.m. and again at 8:35 a.m., both times are just after the local news.

I have mixed feelings about it. It’s one thing to post something on a blog, where, if people are bored, they can quickly point their browser another direction. Besides, I guess people who read blogs likely want to read the sort of missives most people post. It’s another thing entirely, though, for an essay I’ve written to air on public radio, even if it is only a local affiliate. It makes me nervous. My palms are a little sweaty just thinking about it. I certainly will not be listening.

Recording it was fun, though. When I got to the studio, I sat down across from the receptionist and waited for Mary Waldo, the development director, to come out and meet me. She did almost immediately and asked, “Do you have a copy of your essay?” In the sketchy instructions she had emailed to me about coming to record the essay, she did not mention that I should bring a copy. I smiled and said, “Oh wow. I didn’t even think about bringing a copy. Do you have one since I submitted it to you?” She turned to the receptionist and, in a tone that was more of a command than request, asked, “Will you find William?” The receptionist scurried off and Mary said to me, “Let me see if I can find a copy.”

She disappeared and William soon walked around the corner. He had a broad, not too toothy grin. He stuck out his hand and shook mine briskly. As we walked to the studio, we chatted about the weather.

In the studio, an intern was working on the computer behind the soundboard. Although William clearly had the authority to tell the intern to leave, he asked her if it was okay if we interrupted her for a few minutes. He put a chair across the table from the soundboard and asked me to sit down for a mic test. I didn’t know what to do so I said, “Testing,” into the mic. “Perfect,” he said.

Mary couldn’t find a copy of my essay so I printed it from my blog. Before we started, William told me to start at the beginning of a sentence if I mess up. I misspoke only once. I never saw Mary again and, sometime while I was reading, it occurred to me that I could have changed my essay considerably. Obviously, William would have noticed if I had advocated something nuts like bringing racial segregation in schools back, but it seemed to me the controls were not very tight. I suppose that, after William engineers my recording, someone who chose my essay will listen to the finished product.

After I finished reading, William gave me the thumbs up sign and exclaimed, “Great!” He walked me to Ron Breeding’s office where Ron snapped my picture. Presumably for the website, but no one told me why and I didn’t ask. William then walked me out and sincerely said, “It was good to meet you.” I returned his sentiment and left. As I walked to my car, I thought about how nice William is and, if someone else had been the engineer, I would have been much more nervous and wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun.

Day of Mourning

On my way to work this morning, I was saddened to hear that Oriana Fallaci died. I didn’t know much about her until recently, when I read a New Yorker article about her life and work. I’ve come to deeply respect her over the past few months. Whether or not you agree with her recent ravings about Islam in Europe, she was an amazing, unflinching journalist and the world can never have enough quality journalists.

Sarasota

Some highlights of and thoughts about our trip to Florida over Labor Day weekend:

When sitting in coach, no one should be allowed to lean their seat back unless the seat behind them is empty. There is not enough room for anyone, have some consideration for others.

When exiting the plane, everyone should wait his or her turn to get in the aisle and walk out. If you run up toward the front as soon as you arrive at the gate, it just causes congestion in the aisle and slows the whole exit process down more.

In Sarasota, we stayed at a Marriot Courtyard. It was someplace to sleep and that is about it. It smelled like industrial cleaner everywhere, which I guess is better than some smells. It made me wonder what sort of smells they were trying to mask, though. The pool was nice, big and warm. We only swam for a little while one afternoon, but Jennifer and I had it to ourselves.

If you ever make it to Sarasota, there is a great second hand store called Architectural Salvage. It has a good deal of junk, but it also has really cool home décor items that I have rarely seen for sale, such as molded plastic table and chairs, funky lamps, vintage advertisements, and original art by local artists. I even saw one door to a wine cellar, purportedly from the mid 19th century. I’m not sure how a door would be used to decorate, but I still thought it was cool.

There is a man that lives two doors down from Constance (Jennifer’s mom) who walks around the neighborhood in his whitey tighties and nothing else. Not that I wanted an eyeful, but, when I saw him, his underwear had a big hole right in the front so that the entire world could see all his business. I asked Constance if he is mentally ill or something. She said that he is just weird. I believe her, a hole like that is not accidental.

This is Jennifer’s brother, Jesse, his girlfriend, and their dog:

The dog is only about 6 months old and already weighs about 80 pounds. He seemed really sweet, but he is still a puppy and doesn’t know how big he is.

One night, we ate dinner at Micah and Christina’s house (Jennifer’s brother and sister-in-law). Constance cooked. We had salad, roast chicken, mashed potatoes, Parmesan vegetables, and tabouli. Constance grew up in southern Georgia so everything featured a lot of real butter. I’m not complaining; it was very tasty. She made the tabouli at my request. I loved it.

Jennifer and I brought dessert: ice cream cake from Dairy Queen. When we picked it up, we had the DQ person write, “Paris Rocks,” on the cake. Paris is the name of Micah and Christina’s cat. She is not social around strangers, but, after we had been around for a while, she started to come out a little more. Here is a picture of the Jennifer and Christina with the cake:

An unsuccessful attempt by me at taking a picture of Paris:

She actually was around quite a bit more than the picture shows. One of the funniest things I saw her do, is play with Mr. Peabody, who is a pink flamingo toy with a suction cup on the bottom of his feet. Micah put him on the floor and Paris rolled on the floor around him as if she was trying to impress him and then bit his plastic beak. I could hear her teeth clicking on his beak as she bit. This is a picture of Micah and Mr. Peabody:

There was a fair amount of eating out. We ate at a Japanese restaurant called Pacific Rim. The sushi was really good and was reasonably priced. We ate breakfast at First Watch in downtown Sarasota and at the Blue Dolphin café on St. Armand’s key. Both are very good and are places we try to visit every time we go to Sarasota. One afternoon, we also had ice cream at Kilwin’s on St. Armand’s key. Kilwin’s has probably the best ice cream I’ve ever had. I’m not even sure what makes it so good, because I never get any special flavor or anything, usually plain chocolate. We were fortunate to get there when the line wasn’t backed out the door as it usually is.

All in all, it was, as usual, a good but fast and eventful trip.

What’s in a name?

Last week, I received an email from a friend I met while working at Wal-Mart. He emailed to tell me that he changed his name. He has a dry sense of humor so, as I read his email, I wasn’t sure he was serious about the name change. I also couldn’t understand, if he was serious, why he decided to change it. He’s lived with his given name for 40 plus years. Why change now?

As reasons in his initial email, he sighted confusion about spelling (which surprised me because it was a common name) or his actual name (people often thought, for example, that he was Jim when he was really Bob). He also said that his former name was shared by several other people in the state, which confused people about which person they were actually dealing with. I wasn’t convinced that any of those reasons were good enough for such a drastic step. I emailed to ask if he was really serious.

He was. He changed his first name. He did it based on the reasons I list above and because of some information he read in a book about economics. According to my friend, the book says that his given name is one of twenty most popular names for low income Americans. He also said that people, who share his old name in this state, generally have bad credit. He picked the new name because it is easy to pronounce and, according to him, the book says that the name is on the list of top twenty for high income earners.

I found his name change utterly interesting. For a long time, I never thought much about names and how they impact our lives. As a matter of fact, I thought that they don’t impact us very much. Jennifer says that is because my name is not one that draws strong reactions by others and is a respectable name. I suppose she is right about the respectability. I’ve never really cared for David, but I’ve never been made fun of or otherwise been persecuted because of it. Most of you who read this probably already know her story. For those of you who do not, it’s her story to tell and I don’t want to take that from her, but she speaks with authority about what it’s like to have a name no one can pronounce or spell.

My friend’s name change didn’t convince me, but it did make me think about it a little more. I’m not sure of the degree, but I think that our names do impact our lives. I think the many Hollywood stars, who have changed their names and are so revered by the U.S. public, certainly would agree.

Clueless

Jennifer and I flew out of Little Rock when we went to see her family over the Labor Day weekend. It was the first time I had flown since the new no-liquid-in-carry-on-luggage security measures have been in place. Despite news warnings to the contrary, I couldn’t tell that the wait for security screening was much different than before. I didn’t look at my watch, but I would estimate that the time, from entering the security process until I pulled my Puma’s back on my feet, was way less than 30 minutes. I was prepared for a much longer process; I had made sure I removed all liquid, gels, etc. from my carry on bag.

Not everyone was as prepared. A young woman that was screened in front of Jennifer had just purchased numerous products from Bath and Body Works and tried to run the bag through the x-ray machine. The TSA person operating it said, “Um, you can’t carry liquids onto the plane.” Clearly stupefied, she looked at him as if he were speaking a language foreign to her. Calmly, he repeated himself, “Ma’am, you cannot carry liquids onto the plane. If you do not want to check them, I will have to insist that you throw them away.” She asked hazily, “May I take them back downstairs and check them.” He repeated that she could. She took the bag from him and excused herself out of line.

After Jennifer and I finished the security gauntlet and as we walked to our gate, we discussed how amazed we were that the woman had no clue liquids are not allowed in the passenger cabin. After we got situated at our gate, we still had over an hour to wait before our plane was to leave. Jennifer asked me to go to Starbucks and buy her an iced tea while she watched our things.

When I returned with the tea, I sat next to Jennifer and started reading a Rolling Stone. To my surprise, the Bath and Body Works woman soon sat down next to me. She was talking on a mobile phone. Partly because she was speaking animatedly and partly because I couldn’t resist, I listened to her conversation. It was apparent that she was speaking to her boyfriend or husband (I couldn’t see her left hand to see if she was married). During the first part of the conversation I heard, she was telling him how surprised she was about the liquids. She continued by saying, “I had just spent a fortune on lotion and soap. I did not want to throw that stuff away.” She paused for a second to listen and then continued, “Yeah, the security guards were super nice. They just told me I couldn’t carry it on. When I got back to the desk where you check in, I explained to the lady what had happened. Luckily, my bags were still around and she just let me put the stuff in them. I thought I was going to have to buy another bag to put them in.” She paused again to listen and responded by saying, “I don’t know. Apparently something fairly big happened a couple of weeks ago and they changed all the rules about what can be in a carry on bag. I guess we should watch T.V. or read the paper more, or something.”

Yeah, I guess you should.

Movies

I saw a couple of movies this past weekend:

Crank

If you want to see a film, don’t bother with Crank. If you want to see an entertaining action movie with no substance, see it. It is sort of like an enjoyable 90 minute music video.

Little Miss Sunshine

What a great movie about life’s disappointments, loss of innocence, and family dysfunction. If you are not familiar with the premise, a family from New Mexico travels to California for a little girl’s beauty pageant. Along the way, they deal with various trials and their own humanity.

I know it sounds like a lot for a trip across two states, but the trip is both hilarious and touching. I most identified with Dwayne, the older brother of Olive, the little girl who participates in the beauty pageant. My two favorites scenes involve him; one where Olive comforts him after a loss he suffers and the other where he describes the beauty pageant to his mother, in an attempt to convince her to pull Olive out of the pageant. I found their interaction particularly powerful, without rising to melodrama, because they are the two characters with the least control over their lives, but they are protective and accepting of one another in all circumstances, even when they would like to do something else. To me, they represent love in its purest form.

Confucius say…

I eat at Fantastic China on a fairly regular basis. It is just pure silliness, but I never feel like I should throw away my fortune. I have collected several over the past few months. Before I throw them away, here they are for your reading enjoyment:

You are soon going to change your present line of work.

You will pass a difficult test that will make you happier.

Creating is the greatest proof of being alive.

Power does not corrupt men; but fools corrupt power.

Your talents will prove to be especially useful this week.

You will take a chance in the near future, and win.

Depart not from the path which fate has you assigned.

Your friends are you [sic.] greatest comfort. Be nice to them.

Last Thursday, I ate lunch at Fantastic China. After I ate, I walked to my car in the parking lot across the street from the restaurant. As I approached my car, I unlocked the driver’s door with my key fob. When I pulled the door open, my car’s alarm went off. I immediately thought that I had accidentally hit the panic button on the key fob. I slammed the door shut, and pushed the panic button as quickly as possible to turn off the alarm. Nothing happened. I opened the door and shut it. I hit the panic button again. Nothing. I tried locking and unlocking the doors. Nothing.

I was beginning to get desperate. I reached for the door again when, for some reason, I noticed a Starbucks cup on the passenger’s seat. I didn’t remember having Starbucks that morning. The coffee cup made me suddenly realize that I had opened the door of the wrong car. I looked quickly around the parking lot, found my car (correctly identifying it by the sticker on the back), walked to it, got in and drove off as the other Jetta’s alarm continued to sound.

Clearly I should have noticed all along that it wasn’t my car. In my defense, however, it was a black Jetta with a beige interior, just like mine. I find it a bit disturbing that either my key fob unlocked the driver’s door, or the lock on the other person’s car was not working properly. Regardless, my fortune did not warn me of opening the wrong car door. Stupid fortunes.

Fat cat anyone?

Saylor was stitting on the couch this afternoon looking especially slender. I decided to take her picture. Do you think the diet she has been on is working?

5 Years Later

In the Wall Street Journal today, there was an editorial by Newt Gingrich about the so-called war on terror. I didn’t read it because I don’t respect Newt.

Something about it, though, reminded me that this month marks the fifth anniversary of 9/11. I won’t be redundant by going into how much different our world is, etc. What I do want to share, though, is a journal entry I made about a month after 9/11. I find it interesting because it sort of captures my initial reactions and thoughts, and how Wal-Mart responded in way that, in my opinion, only Wal-Mart can. Here it is:

I was looking at an Internet site about travel in Ireland when Sonya came around the corner and said, “A plane has just hit the World Trade Center.”

I stared at her blankly and asked, “What?”

She continued, “I was walking through the break room when I saw on CNN that a plane had just hit one of the towers of the World Trade Center.”

Not considering terrorism in the blissful pre-9/11 ignorance enjoyed by so may U.S. citizens, I asked, “Was it an accident?”

“I don’t know they didn’t say.”

“Well let’s go watch to find out what happened.”

“The break room is packed, we better go upstairs.”

The upstairs break room was equally packed but the big screen projection television was easier to see over and through the crowd. We watched in amazement as the videos of the plane hitting the first tower played over and over again. While we were there, news that a plane had stricken the second tower was released. We also learned that it was likely terrorism. Like the rest of America we unknowingly woke up in a much scarier world that September morning.

A few minutes later, the president of Wal-Mart Realty (the subsidiary of Wal-Mart I was working for at the time) spoke to everyone over the public address system. His speech was astounding. He discussed the attacks, of which we knew little at the time. Much of the information he passed along later proved to be false. Rumors are pervasive in large corporations, apparently even at the highest levels of management. The information he passed along, however, did not compare with his attitude. His message, other than informational, was this: He thought the attacks were a terrible thing and that we should pray for all the victims’ families but he didn’t want the incident to interfere with our work.

He literally called it an incident. War had been waged upon our country. With the exception of Pearl Harbor, United States citizens live in a country that had no armed conflicts on its soil through two world wars, and he called this attack an incident. I wanted to stick my middle finger up at him.

Go Cardinals

In honor of the Cardinals opening up a six game lead on Cincinnati:

Here is hoping that they keep playing well!

The two children behind us were part of the clan that spilled drinks on Jennifer and Jennie, continually kicked our chairs, and touched the hair of the man sitting next to me.

Thanks for the picutre, Jennie.

This I Believe

Our local NPR affiliate is sponsoring This I Believe for people living in the State of Arkansas and I decided to participate by submitting an essay. If you are not familiar with the essays or the program, follow the link and click on the This I Believe link. I’ve heard some amazing essays for the segment on NPR. The essays have to be between 350 and 500 words. I found it hard to sum up my beliefs with so few words. My essay is basically a shortened version of my previous post titled Why No Exit (a link is in the sidebar under the heading About this Blog). Sorry for the repitition but I figured, since I went to the trouble of writing it, I’d throw it up here:

One day, when I was twenty-four, I realized that I was going to die. I knew that I would probably not die that day, the following week, or even the next month. Just the same, I knew that one day I would die. Until my revelation, I intellectually understood that death is the unavoidable part of life that we each experience, but I had not subjectively applied it to my own life.

A few months before, I had heard about the fiancée of a co-worker breaking his hip while playing basketball. He was a young man, had just been discharged from active duty in the military, and was believed to be in good health. In investigating why he broke his hip, the doctors discovered that he had stage four bone cancer. That late summer afternoon, his life took a quick, tragic turn. He dropped out of college to fight the disease and died a few months later.

When I heard of his death, I was scared. I wondered how he could not know he was sick. I was outraged that such a young person was killed by cancer. For the first time in my life, though, I thought that it could just as easily have been me.

During his illness, I periodically asked my co-worker about him and was always amazed at her positive attitude. I know she felt pain. For whatever reason, she chose not to show it. I thought it was brave of her, but I was puzzled. I thought the entire situation was unfair. I also thought that, if someone close to me died tragically young, I would not have handled it nearly as well she did.

She returned to work fairly quickly after his death. Several months later, I asked her how she was able to maintain apparent joy in such an unfair situation. For the first time, she admitted to me that the experience had been the most difficult of her life. She continued by saying that, despite the difficulty, she viewed each day she spent with her fiancée as a blessing, had enjoyed it as much as possible, and, for the most part, experienced true joy.

Her answer was what I needed to hear. I immediately knew she had approached the situation with the right attitude. I can’t predict the future. I don’t know how much time I’ll be allowed. Whether I am young or old, I will not get out alive. It is sometimes hard to remember in the daily grind of life, but I believe that, every day, I should be thankful for those I love, for the divinity I experience through my relationships with others, and for the blessings in my life, both great and small.