Opening Day

I feel like I might have caught Reds fever. I went down to the Opening Day parade. Saw kids on six foot tall unicycles and grown men pushing decorated lawnmowers that spit bubbles. I was impressed with the thousands of people braving the rain. I cannot say the same for the numerous flag squads I saw trailing their marching bands. I've never seen a flag squad do anything in unison besides suck. Why is that? Is it hard to wave flags on beat in groups larger than two? Sorry, not where I was going with this post.

I think I caught the fever. When I was strolling around Fountain Square I found myself wanting to like the Redlegs. I grew up a Cleveland fan but I saw people cheering for the old legends like Robinson and Perez and I felt a pang of healthy jealousy. Groups of friends drinking micro brews and wearing customized jerseys were slapping fives and giving off palpable vibes of intoxicating optimism. I wanted to join them and be like "Hey guys........So.....how about our Cincinnati Redlegs? This is OUR year!!!! Right guys? Guys.......? Oh, we're leaving?.......You're leaving......Yeah, ok, I'll uh......just go over here. Go Reddies!!!!!!" The business man taking a long lunch would tell me that nobody calls them the Reddies. I'd tell him go fax himself and leave, proud of my clever slam. Man, I keep trailing off course with this post. Bottom line: I might try rooting for the Reds a little. Nothing major. No hats or tshirts. If it feels right then maybe. I did see one I liked today.

GO REDDIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YeeeeeeeeeeeeeAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH.

Follow-Up

Found this on the internet machine this morning. It's a good addendum to the previous post. Nick Cage would never inspire this kind of cleverness.

Inconvenient Truth

Think about this nugget: If Al "the internet" Gore had shown drowning monkeys instead of drowning ferocious bears... global warming would be like Tab. A calorie-free, distant memory. It's all in the casting. I've seen it a thousand hundred times- casting directors make or break movies. Along with earth-saving. Had captain planet cast a monkey to swim around the freezing ocean/die I guarantee that 100% of America's soccer moms would've stopped killing our planet with their enormous SUVs and AquaNet. I mean, imagine if Nicholas Cage were cast as Forest Gump. We would've been hoping for a drunken truck driver to mow him down on that cross country jog. We need a character we can root for. Sadly, a sinking bear wasn't it. An unfortunate, inconvenient truth.

Tuesday Portrait

Sometimes on Tuesdays my wife, Leah paints portraits of me. It's her way of showing me how she feels about me. This is her creation today. The likeness is uncanny. She's so talented. I'm so proud. Of her.

Midway Diner

In the middle of Pennsylvania is a diner that goes by the name Midway. The sign glows for miles. A neon siren luring road-weary journeyers to stop for a home cooked meal. The kind of place that has pie. Do not stop. Do not be fooled by the warm americana radiating from the sign.

Inside you will find people. You will initially be encouraged. The waitresses wear 1950s diner uniforms. The pies are covered in glass and elevated on stands. There's even a juke box. They serve liver five different ways but instead of being disgusted you find it quaint. Wholesome. They even serve sweat tea off menu. But look closer. Nobody is eating. The tables are full of large truckers with no food in front of them. It's 9pm and there's still pie. The nostalgia-clad waitress who seems forgetful and grandmotherly cute at first is actually very bad at her job. When she brings your drinks she lifts them up to her nose (millimeters from her beak) and smells them. She can't tell the difference between diet and regular. After an uncomfortable amount of sniffing she tells you she's sick. When you get grossed out she gets mad and assures you she just breathed inward- NOT ON the drinks. The pancakes taste like a YMCA. The turkey dinner is left over from Thanksgiving or made from dehydrated foul. The applesauce is alcoholic and when you tell your bloodhound waitress she says, "I never eat here." Nobody does. Except for weary foreigners fooled by that tricky neon. An asphalt mirage serving pie and liver deep into the night.

Sweet Home Ohio

This is Will. He just moved to Jerusalem, Ohio after sailing around the world for the past eight years chopping onions with giant machines and flipping omelets for a crew of 4,000. He was a cook for the Navy. "A darn good one too," he assured me (with slightly different language). He's insanely good at pool which flips my image of recreation on aircraft carriers completely upside down. After living in San Diego the past few years he says it's good to be home. "Ohio's for lovers" he told us. About 14 times. I hope he finds love in Jerusalem. He seems to be searching for it in the form of stability, simplicity and connection. I think he picked a good spot to start and end his search.

Surprise!

One of my good friends was adopted. So....I'm allowed to make (share other people's) jokes.....

Road Tunes

Here's a few good roadtrip songs. I wouldn't be sad if you wrote me with your favorites.


SeeqPod - Playable Search

Welcome Back?

We just returned from our four day roadtrip. We expected our friends and family to be blasting this song and holding balloons. But at 5am on Friday the Vineyard parking lot was empty. No cake. No banners. Just an RV full of smelly journeymen sad by the lack of pomp. We traveled from Jerusalem, OH to Emmaus, PA trying to find people who've experienced God in real ways. We ended up finding God ourselves and experiencing him in very unexpected ways. I'd love to tell you all about it. It requires us grabbing a beer, however. So until then enjoy the photos here.