Nothing Changes if Nothing Changes.

Happy weekend everyone. I have the pleasure of writing this blog at approximately 4 am EST as I'm unable to sleep. I'm highly pleased it's Saturday as I hope most of my friends are as well. The Cardinals are in the World Series and I'm pretty psyched about that. Anyway let's talk about politics for a while shall we?

Very little has changed in American politics since the mid 1990's. I'm guessing the un-changing of the guard dates back many years before that but the mid 1990's was when I became aware of and interested in American politics. We elect Democrats and become unhappy with the way things are going and then elect Republicans. Most areas of the country are solidly either Republican or Democrat. As American voters we are pressured to identify with one political party or the other. When a Republican is President he blames all the countries problems on the Democrats and all the Democrats whine and bellyache and plot and scheme to win the next Presidential election. When a Democrat is President he blames all of the countries problems on Republicans and Republicans whine and bellyache and plot and scheme about how to win the next election.

In all reality it's absurd that we as Americans would totally identify with either party. For instance I don't think all of my Republican friends are anti gay rights or opposed to social security. I don't think all of my Democrat friends are pro-choice or pro-union. Polls suggest that 70 % of Americans identify themselves as Moderates, or centrist and opposed to either the extreme left of extreme right. This tells me that most Americans are similar to me and identify with some conservative ideology and some liberal platforms as well. Yet we allow ourselves to be pigeonholed as Republican or Democrat and then commence to sling as much mud as possible at the other party.

Then there are those who claim they hate politics and can't understand why Republicans and Democrats are always arguing. These folks tend to be unmotivated to watch candidates debates, peruse the news about political happenings and vote the same party no matter what happens. These folks tend to vote the same way as their parents or significant others or other influential people in their lives.

I have several Republican friends decrying what they perceive to be the socialist actions of our current President Barack Obama. These same folks tend to overlook or "forget" the similar actions committed by our previous President George W. Bush. These folks and their opponents go back and forth constantly much to my entertainment. Up until this part of the blog things have been relatively non-partisan and I warn you that's likely to change in the near future.

I was raised in an ultra-conservative Republican home. My Father listened to talk radio most days and loved Rush Limbaugh. When I became interested in politics it's likely I would have considered myself to be a Republican. That began to change while I was in college. When I was a student at our local community college a good friend of mine, who happened to be gay, desired to start a support group for gay, lesbian, bi-sexual and transgendered folks. Now you must understand dear reader that Coles County Illinois is not what you would call an open-minded community. You wouldn't call the citizens there progressive thinkers. Me, being the type to have never found a controversy I didn't like, quickly joined his cause. As you can imagine this created quite a stir in our small community. Now our community college happened to have a college sanctioned club called the Young Republicans. This group of folks strongly opposed the starting of this support group of gay folks. Their obdurate opposition (I think they were afraid God would cause a natural calamity to destroy our campus) to this club caused me to realize that much of the Republican party was full of shit. How can a political party oppose a whole group of folks being treated with the same rights as any other group of folks?

After my brief and tumultuous stint in college I began to identify with being a moderate American, albeit one who leans a little more left than center. I've been a union member off and on throughout my adult life and yes you guessed it; many Republicans are anti union. I've actually volunteered to help campaign for a few different local and state politicians over the years and I thoroughly enjoy a good political debate. It's just the fact that when I debate with folks they always fall into the cadence of their pledged party. This must stop if we are to bring about any change as Americans my friends.

Here's the deal. I don't hate "W." I don't really even find it necessary to call him names. Do I believe he meant well? Absolutely! Do I think he was in over his head as a President? Absolutely! That doesn't make him a bad person that just means I cringed the day he got reelected. Having said that you may ask my opinion of our current President. I'm not madly in love with him folks. I'm not happy about some of the government loans that have been doled out to companies that have went bust. I do think Barack Obama is a great compromiser. I also think he's way more qualified to be our President than any of the Republican candidates.

I don't hate the Tea Party either. Of course if you know me you can understand that I'm not a fan of it either. I can relate with their agenda of demanding fiscal responsibility out of our government. I just feel the Tea Party is a tad (OK a lot) too conservative for my tastes. Spending much of their efforts attempting to prove Barack Obama wasn't a natural citizen caused them to look like buffoons. I have close friends who claim to be Tea Party members. It's hard for me to imagine these folks wanting the rich to continue getting richer while the middle class goes away but that's the agenda of the organization they support. On the flip side I'm not totally buying into the Occupy protests either. I'm a fan of reckless rebelliousness in general but I'm not sure that the Occupy folks are bringing forth a clear and concise agenda. What I do know is that the Tea Party folks absolutely hate the Occupy folks. Actually the Tea Party folks appear to hate everyone that's not similar to them.

So how do we end this vicious cycle of insanity you ask gentle readers? It's not simple and I really don't have all the answers. I do know it's extremely sad that nearly half of our eligible voters in America don't even bother to vote. It's sad that as loyal party-ists we continue to sling half truths at each other. It's sad that folks buy completely into what Fox News is selling. The Fox news supporters always accuse me of watching MSNBC for some reason although I'm a fan of Channel 13 ABC for local news and I happen to watch CNN, granted I watch sports way more than I watch the news. It's a shame that we allow our pledged parties to dictate how we think and act. It's a shame that we allow there to be career politicians who spend decades working half a year "representing" us. I honestly believe we need a third party somewhere along the way to end the insanity of our current un-changed political landscape.

Right now many people are unhappy with the conditions in our country so it's possible Republicans could win the next presidential elections. Although I believe they've got to find a candidate that at least appears to be a little more moderate. We'll continue to sling mud at each other and allow half truths to be told in order to support our parties candidates. We'll keep trudging the way we do now. The rich will get richer. The poor will get poorer. More and more folks will be without health insurance if Republicans have their way with the weakening of unions. We'll also work more hours for less money and receive a lot less in our benefits packages although we'll continue to pay increasingly more money for said benefits. Republicans don't believe this however. They take their 40 hour work weeks, health and benefits and safe working conditions for granted. I think they forget they have those blessings in their life because once upon a time a union bargained for them.

I digress. My seven year old daughter today asked me how old she had to be to vote. She guessed 13. When I told her the voting age was 18, she informed me that when she turned 18 that she would just vote for whomever I told her too. I informed her that if that was the case then I had failed as a Father. For you see I want my Children to grow up learning to think for themselves. I know they will be influenced greatly by their upbringing but I remember being a lad and being forced to listen to Rush Limbaugh everyday. People can change. It's unfortunate that politics rarely do.

So long folks.

A Dollar and a Drink

This is a poem I wrote a while ago. I don't know if it's finished. It's just some mindless babble that spilled out on paper. Read it at your own risk.

A Dollar and a Drink

I knew I should give my soul to Jesus.
So I went to church to find the preacherman.
He said "boy your appearance don't please us"
Your dirty unshaven and don't look like a christian man.
I said tell me how to give my soul to God.
Won't you tell me how to be free?
He looked to the door and pointed with a nod
We've no time for your type son we're busy you see.

I stumbled down the street thirstily.
Past the liquor store and tattoo parlor.
Wondering why God's people acted so unjustly.
Wondering where I could find a dollar.

I got a dollar and got a drink.
Numbed up, dumbed up and discontented.
It was hard, hard to think.
Desperately troubled and discontented.


I walked in an alley and saw the devil.
I says hey devil here's my soul how much will you give me.
He said hey I'll give it to you on the level.
Your dirty and drunk and homeless, not much value I see.
Take my soul I pleaded surely you've something to give.
He laughed. Said I don't want you.
You've no will to even live.
I'll give a dollar to be rid of you.


I got a dollar and a drink.
number still than before.
God don't want me I don't think.
I sat in front of the liquor store.


The law came and took me away.
They put me in a dirty cage.
I stayed there and slept all day.
I woke up in a dirty cage.


I said hey devil I thought you didn't want me.
He didn't say nothing back.
I yelled come back and fight me.
The law came back.

They put me in a hospital with the doors locked down tight.
They said I was crazy.
I said I need a drink all right.
I need a drink like crazy.


They asked if I wanted to speak to the preacherman.
I laughed and said hell no.
I don't want to talk to the preacher man.
He already told me to go.

If the devil doesn't want me why am I in hell?
He gave me a dollar once for a drink.
When I would drink again I couldn't tell.
It was hard, hard to think.


I stumbled down the dirty street.
Walking to the liquor store.
I had a friend there to meet.
A steady friend for sure.


I bought another drink and drank with my friend.
He kept me calm and warm at night.
I found someone to take my soul in the end.
Me and my drink all right.


My drink in my hand was all I needed.
Take me with you tonight I said.
Take my soul with you I pleaded.
I stopped and laid down my head.


When I wake up again tomorrow I think.
I'll find another dollar.
I'll go get another drink.
Down at the liquor store past the tattoo parlor.

Lost ?

He reached up and grabbed the brim of his ball cap, pulling the hat down a little more snugly on his head. Rain drops steadily dripped off the edge of the brim. He had been trudging for several hours in the steady and persistent rain. The evening had slowly drifted into the black darkness of night. He hunched his shoulders briefly against the chill of the raindrops on the back of his neck. His gait had slowed, yet he stubbornly pushed forward.

He had started his journey with a fair idea of where his destination lie. He knew the trek wouldn't be one of ease but was convinced it was worth the effort. The rain was steady. His clothing had long ago gave way and had become soaked through. He was just this side of uncomfortable in the night's chill. Yet he stubbornly pushed forward.

As hour after hour drifted by he became a little less certain of his destination. He knew he had started in the right direction on this journey. He doggedly clung to the hope that he was still on the right path. The darkness and the damned pesky, steady rain had a disorienting effect at times. Yet he stubbornly pushed forward.

His shoulders started to ache with the strain of being hunched against the rain on the back of his neck. He tugged the brim of his soggy ball cap down even tighter on his head. His hands jammed deep into the pockets of his soaked through jeans, he stubbornly pushed forward.

He thought of stopping and sitting and resting for a while. His feet were tired. He tried to mentally summon the rosy warmth of sitting before a fire, but the cold, steady rain wouldn't allow it. Left foot, right foot, each plodding step adding to the tiredness of his feet. His feet were cold and wet. Yet he stubbornly pushed forward.

Was he still walking in the right direction? He wasn't so certain anymore. Surely he was. He doggedly clung to the hope he was moving in the right direction. The raindrops steadily dripped from the brim of his cap. He wished he had a shred of dry clothing with which to wipe his face. Yet he stubbornly pushed forward.

He thought of stopping and sitting and resting for a while. He was so tired. He knew this trek was not going to be one of ease. He had lost the certainty that the effort was worth it. He desperately wished the rain would let up. His feet hurt. His lower back ached. His shoulders were stiff from hunching against the cold rain on the back of his neck. He tugged the brim of his hat down lower and continued to push forward. Surely his destination was near.



Just a short story that's been going through my mind lately. I sometimes go through periods of life were I relate to the man in this story, trudging and all the while becoming less and less certain I'm heading in the right direction in life. Sometimes I feel like I'm muddling around in the dark. Yet I continue to push forward, hoping it's in the right direction.

Hope you all have a wonderful Wednesday friends.

Casey Anthony. Innocent?

Very good morning friends and faithful blog readers. I hope y'all enjoyed your holiday weekend. I know this year's 3 day Independence Day celebration was amongst the best I've ever enjoyed. How can you go wrong with a weekend full of swimming pools, fireworks, lots of junk food and being surrounded with many good friends? I don't see how it gets any better than that and if it did I'd need two of me to process all that fun. I wish I could bottle up that merriment and save it for a rainy day, but alas, I can not.

Unfortunately today's blog doesn't contain any merriment or joy. There is a good possibility that many of you reading it will disagree with me, some of you very passionately. I'm fine with that. I believe that as an amateur writer and recreational blogger I simply can't avoid writing about topics that others may disagree with. Many of you (did you catch the title of the dang blog?) have already surmised that I'll be tackling the Casey Anthony trial. You're right. It's not going to necessarily be fun nor will it be popular, but I believe someone has to do it.

Let's get some disclaimers out of the way now. I must admit I'm not a forensics expert, but I have read a lot of mystery novels. I was not at any point during the whole mess that is the Casey Anthony investigation and trial an avid follower of such mess. Frankly I'm quite disgusted and nearly physically ill that the media is so sensational in their coverage of said mess. There is not one fiber of my being that believes that any of the media coverage has been fair, balanced and unbiased. The fact that so many people would expend so much energy to follow this trial, to fight to get a seat in the court room or in any way be a part of the "tourism" surrounding this trial sickens me. I do readily admit to stepping off to an alternative drum cadence than most citizens and on days like today I'm actually grateful that I do. I truly don't "get" what all the sustained media attention is all about. It's possible that I may be too busy actually living a life to get so completely caught up in the hoopla. Anyway let's get on with the task of deciphering the madness.

The fact of the matter is that the jury in the Casey Anthony trial got the verdict right. I know this is not the main stream opinion but since when have I ever allowed that to influence my beliefs? The prosecutors in this trial presented a lot of circumstantial evidence and almost no physical evidence. Prosecuting teams always bear the "burden of proof." In laymen terms that means they have the job of convincing the jury that beyond any reasonable doubt the accused committed the crime. Cut through all of your emotions for a moment and honestly tell me that you believe they presented enough facts to convince you 100 percent without even a hint of a doubt that Casey Anthony murdered her daughter. I simply can't make that statement.

The prosecution team presented new "pseudo-scientific" evidence that a decomposing body was once in Ms. Anthony's trunk. Yes my friends they put some air from her trunk in a syringe and tested it. Did you catch the part about there being a bag of trash in her trunk when they found her car? The prosecution team claimed that the duct tape and bags found with Caylee Anthony's body were similar to ones found in Casey's home. There's your evidence. They also talked a lot about Casey Anthony partying, getting a tattoo and basically doing everything she could to be uncooperative with the investigation. What the prosecution didn't do was find any fingerprints at the crime scene. They didn't find any blood in the trunk of the car. They didn't find any hair or DNA samples of Casey's at the place the body was found. As a matter of fact the prosecution team couldn't even truthfully determine exactly how little Caylee Anthony died.

That paragraph was a little difficult to write. Whew...this writer will not shrink from this task. Let's get a few more things out of the way here. I'm a proud father of 3 beautiful children. The fact that a nearly 3 year old girl was murdered is something that I can't truly wrap my mind around. Casey Anthony "failed" to report her daughter missing for 31 days! She spent those 31 days partying and getting a tattoo! She constantly lied about everything she could possible lie about while she was being investigated. She is a hideous monster of a parent who was criminally negligent in caring for her child. Let's get this last tidbit out of the way now. I believe that Casey Anthony murdered her daughter.

How can one writer defend the jury's not guilty verdict and then confess he believes the defendant committed the crime you ask oh gentle reader? Easy, nobody really cares about what I believe and the world doesn't adhere to my belief system (thank God.) For example, I believe rap music is a waste of ear space, that Pete Rose belongs in the Baseball Hall of Fame, that Merle Haggard is the most artistic singer/songwriter to ever grace planet Earth and that people should almost revere baseball stadiums as much as they do churches. Most of my crazy ideas and beliefs are very much in the minority. I'm OK with that. My belief, and frankly many of yours as well, that Casey Anthony killed her daughter doesn't prove that she did.

Folks we live in the United States of America, the greatest damn Nation in the world. Our legal system is flawed for sure. Loopholes, human error and the luxury of hiring the best legal teams tarnish many trials. However we are also still a Nation that guarantees the inalienable right of the accused of being "innocent until proven guilty." Casey Anthony was found not guilty by a jury of her peers. Those 12 men and women obviously found some shred of doubt that Casey was guilty and brought forth the verdict of not guilty. Thankfully they chose not to participate in the media circus after issuing the verdict. Casey Anthony will walk away a free woman whether we like it or not. For better or worse, this is our legal system. Be mindful of the fact that this same legal system has put to death many innocent people. This same legal system acquitted O.J. Simpson of murder and then found him guilty of that same murder in a civil trial. Casey Anthony is beyond any reasonable doubt a complete failure as a human being. She is nothing short of a train wreck waiting to happen. This doesn't prove that she murdered anyone.

Write this down. Casey Anthony will ultimately destroy any life that she has left attempting to get past the hell she has caused herself. The fact that she behaved in the manner that she did after her daughter "disappeared" causes me to hope she never finds another single solitary moment of peace or serenity in her life again.

Little Caylee Anthony is currently residing in a much more pleasant environment than the screwed up Anthony family could have ever provided her. Those that sent her to that place of peace will some day experience hell in one form or another. Karma insists that this is true.

Try to have a good day friends. I'm going to try not to mope around the next several hours pondering the sickness and evil that lurks in our world. God help us all.

Freedom.

Happy July my friends. July 1st for me is always the day when I wake up and say "where did June go?" It's a day to remember that it's Summer and a month of it has already slipped away. It's also a time for build up to my favorite holiday of the year; Indapendance Day. I'm some what of a history buff, which probably explains why I enjoy this particular day so much. Speaking of history, I don't care how you try to defend it, Sarah Palin made a large snafu with the whole Paul Revere thing. I don't think she is that "special" to not know the facts I think she just misspoke. You think Mrs. Palin believes Mr. Obama is an American citizen yet?

Moving right along now. I love the Declaration of Independence. I love the story of John Hancock and his rather large signature. General Washington and Valley Forge and stories of the continental congress stimulate me. I love American History. I was raised in a family that believed in taking your hat off when the flag went by and putting that hat over your heart when the National Anthem is sang. I grew up saying the Pledge of Allegiance every morning in school and I didn't feel it violated my rights at all. I often still get goose bumps and a hint of tears in my eyes when America the Beautiful is played. I've karaoked (not well) Lee Greenwood's "God Bless the U.S.A. Johnny Cash singing "Ragged Old Flag" is currently a selection on my MP3 player. I even once got into a physical altercation in Canada (and was briefly detained by the authorities) after over hearing a Canadian speak badly about the United States. I was ready to fight the entire country of Canada that night and frankly I liked my chances.

Yes my friends I'm damn proud to be an American. I believe we reside in the greatest nation on this planet. I am convinced we have the baddest military in the World. I'm not always pleased with the direction our political leaders are heading but I am truly grateful to live in a country where I have the freedom to openly criticize them. I believe Rick Monday is a genuine American Hero for protecting our flag from being burnt. (If you don't know who Rick Monday is Google him now. Seriously stop reading and Google him.) I fully concur with him when he said if you're going to burn our country's flag don't do it around me. The Supreme Court may have protected flag burners under freedom of speech but I'm not always that open minded.

I also believe that our American Servicemen and Women are heroes. Kids if you're going to idolize anyone let it be our Father's and Uncles and Grandfathers (and in many cased Mothers) who have served on foreign land witnessing acts of violence and depravity that you and I will never have to imagine. Men and women have given the most precious things they had to defend our freedom. These men and women gave their very last breath. Yes my friends the 4th of July is a very special day for me.

A little over 5 years ago it started to become even more special for a different reason. Just a month over 5 years ago I was freed from the bondage of alcoholism. The disease of alcoholism had led me to the gates of a literal living hell. Many folks in society had written me and my kind off as unsalvagable. I lived a hopeless and helpless existance, one I wouldn't wish on anyone (even Canadians.) When I finally reached the place in life where I firmly beleived suicide to be my only viable option a group of sober folks entered my life and showed me a better way to live. They taught me that a group of 12 principles could free me from the bondage of alcohol. Over the years I've watched folks literally die from the disease of addiction and I believe them doing so has allowed me to live a free life. I get goose bumps and teary eyed thinking back to the early days of my recovery and remembering how awesome it was to once again have a glimmer of hope in my life.

These sober folks took me by the hand and literally helped walk me to freedom. They provided me the freedom to live and smile and laugh again. They provided me the freedom to live indoors with a roof and a bed and blankets and food. They helped grant me the freedom to learn to be a Dad and to learn to hold a job and to pay my bills and be productive in society. I honestly believe I can never do enough to repay this group of sober people for the blessed life they've taught me to live. Since that day, a little over 5 years ago, Independence Day has taken on a new and very special meaning for me. Let freedom ring my friends let freedom ring!

It's also important for me to note that if you or someone you know is seeking this same freedom from alcohol, there is help available. I'm not speaking of American Airlines but the help you are looking for is just ahead of them in a phone book. God Bless the U.S. of A.

“Free at last; free at last; thank God Almighty we are free at last.” Martin Luther King Jr. Civil Rights leader.

It's an Inside Job

Happy Hump Day my friends! Wednesday has long been one of my favorite days of the week, although I frequently make things up to justify most days as being my favorite. I believe it has something to do with the rose collared glasses I often wear. On Wednesdays my son Spenser plays peewee baseball. I often gather with some of my closest friends on Wednesday evenings and I'm usually off of work Wednesday nights. I only work one more day (Thursday night) after Wednesday so my work week is nearly over. See, those are lots of good things about Wednesday! It's apparent from all of this that I have watched way too much Sesame Street lately. You tend to do that when you're a parent. Enough of this madness. Is there supposed to be a topic in this blog?

I've been noticing lately how many people seem to attempt to change their externals in an attempt to find happiness. It's likely due to the fact that I'm now 32 and have lived most of my life like a wayward gypsy, but I've learned long ago that happiness comes from within. Experience is our best teacher in life and I've been guilty many times of trying to manipulate life into providing me happiness.

I've tried nearly every combination that a guy can try. I've often believed if I only lived in this particular city and worked that job, making that much money and drove that kind of vehicle and dated this kind of woman I'd be happy. This insane thinking has lead to one heck of a tumultuous life my friends. I've lived in six different states. I've held over 40 different jobs. I've been married and divorced twice and dated several other unfortunate women. I've moved from apartments to houses and back to apartments again. All of this created stress and chaos in my life and only fleeting smiles.

I'm not alone in this. We see many folks who constantly chase the latest fads in technology hoping that the next smart phone or video game system will do the trick. Some folks are constantly buying the latest and greatest $150 sneakers and $200 jeans and Ed Hardy T-shirts. (Yes I do indeed know folks who have paid $100 plus for a single T-shirt.) Some people buy a new car every two years or a new house every three. Some folks sit at home all day on Facebook wishing they had a job. Others go to work constantly and wish they didn't have to work. Many folks have the notion that if they could only win the lottery they'd be happy. I know people who cause extreme amounts of destruction in their lives by constantly chasing different lovers.

Single folks wish they had someone and couples wish they were single. People spend hundreds of dollars a month on tanning and manicures and pedicures and get their hair done. Folks spend thousands attempting to alter their bodies in their pursuit of happiness. We live in a society that's keen on constantly keeping up with the "Jones" or more accurately in today's world the Kardashians.

I'm not opposed to anyone accumulating wealth and possesions. If you have the means to pamper yourself daily then you should. It just all changed for me one day when someone sat down with me and explained that happiness is an inside job. Our forefathers and the men who founded this grand nation believed that it is each individuals right to pursue happiness. They were right (although this nation also has a long history of defining who can pursue what i.e. slavery, women's liberation and homosexual rights. However these are all topics for another blog.) Each and every Man and Woman living on this orbiting rock we call Earth has a right to pursue what makes them happy. I'm simply of the belief that you shouldn't have to pursue it any farther than looking at the person sitting in front of your computer screen.

One of my favorite all time sayings is that "happiness is a by-product of right living." This is a tried and true fact in my life today. The more things I do in life that are the right things to do the happier I am. I gave up a long time ago attempting to impress folks. Actually that's only partially true. I often still find myself wanting to impress Amy (my fiancee and the love of my life) and sometimes my children. Most other folks just aren't important enough for me to try to mold myself into how they think I should act or live.

Seven and a half years ago I moved from Nashville, TN to Toledo, OH. Now friends Nashville is an absolutely wonderful place to live. I loved Nashville. Toledo on the other hand is not exactly a typical vacation destination. I used to despise Toledo for many reasons when I first relocated here. Then some amazing events transpired and I began to find myself becoming happier despite my surroundings. That I believe is the whole key to the issue of happiness. Finding the inner peace and inner security of being OK with who you are.

There is a reason why many famous and wealthy celebrities get divorced. Wealthy folks sometimes have problems with alcohol and drugs and with committing crimes. There is a reason they hire public relations people. On the other hand it's not a coincidence that you can often hear riotous laughter in impoverished neighborhoods. Don't get me wrong, I'm not claiming you have to be poor to be happy. I'm just saying that wealth and possessions do not define your level of happiness.

A man once told me I should find my "happy" in life and chase that. So I asked myself tonight "What makes me happy?" Spending time with my significant other and my children make me happy. Enjoying the company of my close friends brings a lot of laughter to my life. Laughing is something that I love to do and could use more of in my life. I enjoy talking with people and as Amy puts it "hemming and hawing." You know sitting on the back deck doing a lot of nothing but just shooting the breeze with folks. I love to go on road trips and I enjoy exploring new places. I like to find new adventures each day. I enjoy tucking my children into bed at night and waking up with them in the morning. I love those lazy days at home with my family when we all stay in our pajamas until well past noon. I enjoy reading books and learning things. I also enjoy being by myself sometimes. Taking a walk or driving to the library or simply sitting in the back yard and reading. I enjoy listening to good music and love discovering new bands to enjoy. (Special thanks to my friend Matt B for introducing me to Wilco recently.) These are the things I live for my friends.

Sure I'd really like to win the mega millions. I'd like to drive a Ferrari some day. I'd like to have enough money to play high stakes poker with the world's best players. It would be cool to travel around the world and see exotic locations. However I'm thoroughly convinced that none of these things would bring me any more joy than having a good cup of coffee with a good friend. It's the simple things in life that make me smile and thus the simple things in life I pursue.

So in summation friends, go ahead and plan that relocation to Miami or New York. Stand in line for a whole day just to be the first to buy the next pair of Nike's. Go shopping, chase new lovers and live with reckless abandon. Just make sure your happy before you do these things. One of my favorite poets said it best, “Nothing can bring you happiness but yourself.” That would be the late great Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Now go and chase your happiness friends. While your looking for it stop over and have coffee with me and let's just sit on the back porch and shoot the breeze. That's where I've found some of the most happy moments in my life.

Remembering Dad on Father's Day

Good morning friends and loved ones. Happy Father's Day to the Dad's out there and especially to those men who although not biological fathers, serve as mentors and spiritual advisors to men like me.

My Father passed away around a year and a half ago and this is my second Father's Day without him. He was not my biological Father (I've never met my "biological benefactor.") but he adopted me and for all intents and purposes is the only Dad I'll ever need. We didn't always get along while I was growing up. I was extremely rebelious and when we argued I would sometimes remind him he wasn't my "real" Dad. I know this broke his heart every time I said it and to this day I cringe even remembering these moments. He didn't have much of an education and couldn't read and write very well but he worked his tail off to support his family. He didn't make a lot of money but he and my Mother managed to provide myself and my siblings with a fairly happy childhood.

When I was around 13 my Dad was diagnosed with a failing liver and hemochromatosis. The doctor's at the time predicted that he might live another 6 months. He eventually went on disability. I remember my Mother sitting all of us children down and explaining that Dad was sick and probably wouldn't be around long. He lived for another 19 years! It's obvious my Father was a fighter.

When I became an adult I know that I did a lot of things that disappointed my Dad. I moved around a lot and barely stayed in contact with my family. I lived pretty selfishly and did a lot of self destructive things. When my twins were born in 2004 my Dad and Mom came to Toledo to visit their first grandchildren. I know he loved my children and loved being a "Papaw." Shortly after this he was diagnosed with liver cancer yet again. At midnight on January 1st, 2006 he received a liver transplant at St. Louis University hospital. I remember visiting him then and seeing him with a tube down his throat on a ventilator was not fun. He came through that just fine. I got sober about 5 months later. That December he had a major stroke. He had quadruple bypass surgery several months after that. Over the next several months he had several other strokes of varying degrees of severity. Then the phone call came from my Mom that they had found cancer in Dad's lungs and it was bad.

I remember visiting in December of 2007 and accompanying my Dad to an appointment with his oncologist. The cancer Doctor said that Dad could undergo Chemotherapy and Radiation and might extend his life a few months. Without the treatment he was expected to live 4-10 months. It was a pretty emotinally heavy time. Dad ultimately opted to not have the treatment. He lived almost 2 more years.

The last 2 years my Dad was alive I had the opportunity to talk on the phone with him a lot and to visit him several times. In the later years of his life Dad had become quite the Cardinals fan. This was one very strong bond we both enjoyed. Over time his health slowly faded. He started with a nurse visiting him at home. The ordered him a hospital bed to have at home. He eventually had to walk with a walker. Finally he had to go to a nursing home. Amy and I visited him and my family in late September 2009. We had a great weekend. He got to meet Amy for the first time as we had only been dating a few months. He liked her, especially when he found out she wasn't a Cubs fan since she was from Chicago.

A month later when I made my nightly phone call to Dad on a Monday night he told me the nursing home had said he couldn't walk by himself anymore because of his risk of falling. He was depressed. My Dad loved to walk around the nursing home harrassing patients and staff alike, especially the few who were Cubs fans. After grumbling for a while he said "I don't know why I'm complaining. There are lot's of people worse off than I am." Typical Dad downplaying things.

The next night I got a phone call from my youngest sister that I might want to come home (to Mattoon, IL) soon since Dad wasn't doing well at all. I told her I would try to come that weekend to visit him. I called my other sister to talk to her about Dad's health. She said she had heard the same things I had and planned to be with him the next day. I talked to my Mom who said she wasn't going to leave the nursing home but was going to spend nights with Dad. I called my brother the nurse and he said I should get there as soon as possible, that Dad didn't have much longer. A thousand emotions erupted inside me that night and my friends in recovery all helped to prop me up. I quickly called my boss and informed him I was leaving the next day and didn't know when I'd be back at work. The next evening I took the Megabus to Chicago (ask me sometime about my God moment there) and early Thursday morning I boarded an Amtrak train to Mattoon.

The next 5 days were exhausting and grueling, yet the most memorable of my life. I spent each day at the nursing home with my family at my Dad's side. He was sometimes alert and able to communicate. Mostly he was comatose and resting. Those five days we all ate too much fast food, drank way to much caffeine and slept way too little. Amy, who had just lost her Mother a year earlier, was a godsend and I can't even begin to accurately state how much her support meant during this time. My good friend and mentor Steve Flowers drove down from Champaign to spend some time with us and eat dinner with us. Many friends texted and called each day and offered to drive from Toledo to be of support.

My Mother slept each night in a chair next to my Dad's bed. My siblings and I took turns staying the night with them to help care for my Mother as well. Two nights before he died it was my turn and it was a night I'll never forget. I sat on the side of my Dad's bed almost all night holding his hand. Every time I tried to let go he would wake up and say "Don't let go, Never let go." My back got stiff and my hand fell asleep many times but I held his hand until the sun came up. I'll never forget watching him rest and praying and struggling so much. I couldn't imagine life without my Father but I didn't want him to suffer any longer. A strong man who had fought through so much in life had stopped fighting and I watched him slowly slip away.

I've always considered myself to be a bit of a tough guy. I've never backed away from a physical altercation in my life. I've boxed and played football and survived back alleys and streets in neighborhoods most people fear to walk in. Yet there was absolutely nothing I could do to make my Dad get better. I was totally powerless watching him slip away. Those 5 days with my family at my Dad's bedside taught me how to turn things over to someone other than me.

My Dad died at 5:38 pm on Tuesday October 27. His wife and his four children were present. We began to cry and release some of our pent up emotions. We contacted the nurse at the home and she came to be with us. Approxiamately five minutes after he passed a cardinal bumped into the window of his room near his bed. We all began to laugh and to this day I thoroughly believe that cardinal was my Dad telling us it was going to be ok.

It's been over a year and half since my Dad died and I think of him almost every day. I think the saddest thing is the my twins will grow up not really knowing him. My daughter Abby was born this past January and she will never get to meet him. My Dad would have been so happy holding her, I know he would. He loved holding my twins and just being with his grandkids and his family. As I age and mature and still struggle to find my way in life I often wonder If what I'm doing would make my Dad proud. When I watch Cardinals baseball games I feel a twinge in my heart knowing he and I will never talk about another baseball game. When my son Spenser is playing baseball with his PeeWee team I realize my Dad will never sit on the sidelines and cheer for him. My daughter Mckenzie will never get a phone call from him congratulating her on her good grades in school.

Sometimes when Amy and Abby are long asleep and it's late in the night and I'm fighting insomnia I think about my Dad and cry. When I see pictures of him I remember those last few years that God gave to my family and all of those happy times filled with laughter. My Dad loved to laugh. It's during these late night emotional moments that I reaffirm the fact that my Dad really isn't gone. As long as I'm still breathing his spirit will live on. Happy Father's Day Dad. I love you.

A Checkered Past

Good very early morning my friends. Top of the Morning to you if you prefer. It's Wednesday. Hump Day. We're half way through the traditional work week. Just a friendly public service reminder; Father's Day is approaching my friends. I know Father's Day rarely gets the publicity and fanfare Mother's Day gets but be sure to let your Father's know they're appreciated. Father's Day is not necessarily the topic of this futile attempt to communicate by blogging, I just tend to get distracted and way off course on a very frequent basis.

I'm sitting here at work at 2am and for someone reason I've spent the last hour or so mentally scanning through my life. A reflection of times past if you will. I do this occasionally and sometimes it's healthy and sometimes probably not so much. Tonight however I became a bit overwhelmed with some fairly heavy and morose thoughts. I'll try to give you a slight peek into a moment of your friendly writer's head without rambling too long to do it.

As I daydreamed and reflected I began to think back of many of the people who I became close with in my life. I thought of past lovers, past friends and drinking buddies and past co-workers. I began to wonder how many of these folks I impacted in such a negative way along my pathway of life. I've done a lot of crazy and selfish things in my life. I've blatantly taken advantage of the good graces of many. I wondered how many people's lives I changed negatively? I spent a large part of my life telling lies and cheating and stealing. I've had people who once loved me curse me. I've manipulated and schemed and scammed to convince people to care. For many years of my life I drifted around the Midwest, from town to city to countryside to town, never once leaving one place in favorable terms. Throughout the years many people invested time and money and emotions on my potential, only for me to crush any hope they possessed of a positive return. I've sucked the dreams of life, the hope of better tomorrows and the joy of living out of many people. I've left a trail of emotional scars in the wake of my destruction.

These days I'm blessed to live a much different life than I once did. I like to think I'm a completely different man today than the one described in the preceding paragraphs, and for the most part I am. I do my best each day to be of service to my fellow man. I attempt to be a bright spot in the daily lives of my loved ones. I attempt to frequently think of others before I think of myself. I'm still far from perfect and many days I fall short of being the angelic man I imagine myself to be. Still I wonder will I be able to do enough in my life to erase all the negativity of my checkered past?

An Amish man (you know those bearded guys that drive horses and buggies and don't have cell phones or computers!) once described life to me as being as simple as a wagon wheel. He said you rolled a wagon wheel down a hill and each time you did something bad it weighted one side of the wheel. Likewise each good deed you performed weighted the other side. The bearded gent went on to say that hopefully when the wagon wheel lost it's momentum at the bottom of the hill that one would have done enough good things in life for the wheel to fall in that direction. This my friends is one of the best descriptions of life I've ever heard.

How very heavily weighted to the "bad" side my wheel must still be. Sometimes in moments like tonight in my life I wonder if it's even worth it sometimes to attempt to correct all the wrong I've done. It sometimes seems like such an overwhelming and impossible task. I've screwed up so much in my life. I've burned so many bridges and I've fumbled so many golden opportunities. Yes my friends I've got quite the checkered past.

I'm going to keep smiling at folks though. I'm going to keep shaking hands and patting the shoulders of those that seem to need a morale boost. I'm going to continue to pray and ask to be a blessing to others each day. I'm going to continue to look for ways to be of service to my fellow man. I'm not going to lose the hope that somehow I can make a difference in my community. I'm not going to shut the door on my past because today I can see how my life experiences can benefit others. I'm going to do all I can to someday become the man I was meant to be. I will continue to open my heart and learn to be more full of love each day. I'm going to attempt to keep stacking "good" weights on my wagon wheel. If that wheel should lose momentum and begin to fall anytime soon I will have done my best these past few years to have balanced the good and bad in my life.

All is now secure and fast;
Not the gods can shake the Past;
Flies-to the adamantine door
Bolted down forevermore.
None can reënter there,--
No thief so politic,
No Satan with a royal trick
Steal in by window, chink, or hole,
To bind or unbind, add what lacked,
Insert a leaf, or forge a name,
New-face or finish what is packed,
Alter or mend eternal Fact.

-Ralph Waldo Emerson "The Past"

I can't change the things I've done and neither can you my friends. The only thing I can do is live in today and hopefully make the world a slightly better place because of it.

Making Memories at the Grocery Store

Happy weekend my friends. I hope all of you are enjoying the very nice weather that has finally decided to stay around in Northwest Ohio for a while. I know it's late and I have no reason to be awake still. I'm just dealing with another emotional high that sometimes life surprises me with.

I had the pleasure once again of having all three Denton children with me all day today. Yes this happens nearly every weekend but it never grows old. Amy and I had invited a few of our friends over for a cook out tonight. As I explained to these friends it was a cook out because we live in the suburban area of Toledo. It's called a barbecue in the inner city. Actually I don't really know why some folks call them barbecues and others like myself a cook out. I do know that there wasn't any barbecue used today. I digress.

It didn't look like it was going to happen. The friends invited didn't contact us until late in the afternoon to confirm their impending arrival. Since I hadn't heard from them I assumed the cook out was off and turned my energies to other areas of the day. When I learned late in the afternoon that our friends were indeed coming over I scrambled into action. Spenser and I headed out the door and down the street to our local Kroger's grocery store.

Spenser was his usual self while shopping with me. He likes it when I race the grocery cart (or buggy in the south) around the store. He was quite humorous in his dialogue with me like he normally is. I'm not sure what other shoppers or store employees think of the two of us while we race around the store. I can only imagine them wondering who is supposed to be the adult in the situation. We whipped around the store buying Angus sirloin and hot dogs and buns and chips and pie and ice cream. We finally made it around to the check out area and went through the self check out lanes. Spenser helped hand me the items we were purchasing while I scanned and bagged, the whole time chattering like the kids we both are. When we had scanned all the items I put two twenties into the machine to pay for the $32 and some change purchase. When the machine spit out a five and two ones Spenser proclaimed rather loudly, "Wow Dad it gave you more money back than you put in." I immediately questioned the A's he received in first grade math this past school year.

I explained to him that I had less money after purchasing the groceries because I had to pay for what we were taking with us. He replied, "Wouldn't it be neat Dad if everything here were free?" I started to notice people around us smiling and seeming to find amusement in our conversation. I notified Spenser that it would indeed be neat if groceries were free but like most things in life they weren't. The conversation continued while we loaded our bags into our shopping cart (or buggy) and we began to walk towards the exit. An older gentleman, I guessed to be in his late 60's, happened to exit the self scan aisle with us. He patted me on the shoulder and chuckled about how Spenser and I reminded him of his own son many years ago. I looked at the old timer and noticed a tear spilling from his eye as he chuckled at us. He walked to the exit of the store with us the whole time telling us about how often his own son would say humorous things when he was young. We talked a little as we worked our way through the late afternoon shopping rush. He informed us that his son was now fully grown and that he had two grandsons that were now his pride and joy. As we parted ways in the parking lot, heading towards our respective vehicles he again patted my shoulder and remarked how fast time seemed to fly as your children grew. As he turned to head his own way I noticed him smiling from ear to ear having obviously been reminded of pleasant times in life.

As we loaded the groceries into the Jeep Spenser noted how "nice that guy" seemed to be. As we got into our vehicle to head home to prepare for our cook out (or barbecue if you will) Spenser seemed to almost read my mind. Out of nowhere he asked if I sometimes missed Papaw, my Father who passed away a year and a half ago. Why this older gentleman reminded me of my own father I can't really be sure, but the fact was he had. With a tear beginning to trail out of my own eye I notified Spenser that I did indeed miss Papaw nearly every day. I know that at nearly 7 years of age Spenser will likely never remember this particular shopping trip to Kroger's. I however, much like the old-timer we bumped into, will likely look back fondly on this memory for years and years and years.

This is why I ask God to open my heart and mind to whatever adventure he has in store for me each day. The cook out and fellowship with friends was amazing by the way.

Jim Tressel

Happy Memorial Day friends and blog followers. I truly am grateful to the Men and Women who have given their lives to ensure that my family and I can enjoy the freedoms we have today. Both of my Grandfathers served in the military. My Grandpa Leon Sours served in WWII and Korea. My Uncle Sam Sours served 5 tours in Vietnam. Yes you read that correctly; 5 tours, in the Army special forces. The last 2 tours were served trying to find POW/MIA individuals and bringing them home. These family members are true American heroes. I'd also like to remind everyone that there are individuals who are daily laying their lives on the line on foreign soil in service to our great country. Whether we agree with the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan or not, these individuals deserve our honor and respect. I've helped treat several veterans from these conflicts at the alcohol and drug treatment center I work at and I can tell you that Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome is a legitimate diagnosis. Some of the most heart wrenching things I've witnessed is watching these individuals screaming out in their sleep, wrestling with night terrors that you and I will never have to know. As my family and I prepare for the pool party and cook out we are going to attend we will say a prayer thanking God for these folks. Hug a veteran today would ya?

That having been said I'm extremely disappointed in the fact that Ohio State made the decision to announce Jim Tressel's resignation today. I'm probably one of the biggest Ohio State Football fans in Northwest Ohio, yet I feel it was in poor taste to announce this on Memorial Day. I'm sure that somewhere along the line a publicist thought this would benefit Ohio State to make this announcement on a holiday. Memorial Day should be about honoring our veterans, not about watching newscasts dominated by a football coach resigning amidst allegations of wrong doing.

Now about those allegations. Let's be real here folks. Jim Tressel hasn't been accused of recruiting violations, nor has he been accused of financially supporting his players. His biggest wrongdoing was simply not reporting his knowledge that his players were selling their own personal property to attempt to make ends meet. I'm not exonerating the players at all. What they did were wrong. What Jim Tressel did was wrong. They all broke the rules and should suffer some consequences. I do however find it difficult to stomach that men who have become millionaires on the backs of college football would be the ones allowed to judge these athletes who grew up extremely poor in urban areas. Terrelle Pryor is an exceptionally gifted athlete who felt the need to sell some of his own hard earned college awards. I'm not Terrelle Pryor, but I've been broke and I understand the desperation that can bring. College athletes do not receive compensation for playing sports. They are provided an opportunity to receive a free college education. In comparison Mark Emmert the current CEO of the NCAA was paid nearly a million dollars a year as the President of the University of Washington. Do any of you truly believe that Mr. Emmert has ever been financially desperate enough to pawn his belongings?

I don't know what the solution is to the dilemma of college athletes hustling. I do feel like the NCAA has to do something. You simply can not take individuals out of urban areas, make them some of the most famous athletes in their respective states and expect them to eat ramen noodles and ride bicycles around their respective campuses. It's a broken system that somewhere along the way needs to be repaired.

Back to the topic of Jim Tressel. He is one of the most wildly successful football coaches college football has ever seen. It's worth noting that almost every single individual who has ever played for him admires him. He seems to be loyal to a fault to the men who play for him. Until this past year he was widely viewed as an honorable man with impeccable integrity. We now know that he was covering evidence of wrong doing from his players and it feels a little foreign using words like "integrity" and "honor" when describing him. I don't see any other way around him having to leave as Ohio State football coach simply for the fact that he has lost the trust he once had.

I had the honor and privelege of meeting Jim this past spring. As a matter of fact if you watched Channel 13 ABC's noon newscast you would have seen footage of Jim Tressel and I sitting at Sylvania Country Club. Jim gave a speech that day apologizing for what had happened to Buckeye Football and he took responsibility for those things that he did wrong. It's worth noting that I learned that day the Jim Tressel and his wife had donated millions to Ohio State University Hospital and their new cancer center. I believe he is a good man at heart. I don't think the footage we saw of Ohio State football players volunteering in poor neighborhoods in New Orleans before the Sugar Bowl were for public relations only. I think he legitametly attempted to make the athletes he coached better men. I don't know why he did the things he did but I know that Ohio State lost a really good football coach today.

Did you hear the rumor that Urban Meyer recently purchased a home in Columbus, OH? Boy wouldn't that be something! Go Bucks.

If My Life Were a Baseball Game

It's another stormy humid day in Northwest Ohio. A perfect day to wastefully consume memory space in the world wide web. I suppose I might as well use the space rather than let another republican conspiracy theorist use it to speculate the Barack Obama isn't American.

I love baseball. It is one of my true passions in life. As I write this I'm watching the Cubs and Mets play on WGN. I hate the Cubs and could care less about the Mets, but it's baseball. Anyone who knows me or has even heard of me knows that I bleed Cardinal red. The St. Louis Cardinals are my one true lifetime love. The story is infamous now, but I once told an ex-wife that I loved the Cardinals more than I loved her.

I also love living life. I haven't always felt that way however. There have been many times in my past when I wondered if the alternative to living wasn't a better option. There were times when I would easily spend an evening entertaining suicidal thoughts. It's been many years since I've had an evening like that. Today I live a fairly decent life and I'd like to someday tell tall tales to my great-grandchildren. What if my life were compared to a baseball game?

It's a baseball game pitting me against life. I suppose in the first innings the odds makers would have given me pretty even odds to be successful. They would have taken into consideration my genetics and environment. Although I grew up poor I also grew up in a fairly loving and somewhat supportive family. They would have scored points in my favor for the academic accolades in my early school years and likely deduced that I was well on my way to winning the baseball game in life.

An inning or two later things would have been completely flipped upside down. This is the stage of life when I would have started to enter into the early phases of alcoholism. Large quantities of alcohol poisoning my body and allowing the team of "life" to score many runs. Life scored runs with each subsequent marriage and divorce (there are two of them.) Each time I lost a job due to my immaturity and alcoholism life hit home runs and grand slams. Each time I picked up and moved to a different state seeking a new start only to have the same problems, life scored again and again. When life was at bat the bases began to look like a carousel. In these middle innings of the baseball game of life I'm sure that the ones who were interested began to drift away. Much like fans do during a literal baseball game when the outcome is all but decided, my fans started drifting towards the exits. This baseball game of life was all but over friends. Even the most diehard fans, my family and closest friends had given up all hope of a comeback.

And then something miraculous and astonishing happened. Against all odds and much to the disbelief of anyone that knew me, I got sober. A comeback at this point of the ballgame would be one of the biggest comebacks in the history of life. Yet there were glimmers of hope as I (with the support and cheers of many) began to mount a comeback. Over the last few years of life I've remained sober. These middle innings have seen a few runs scored by "life" and several scored in my favor.

The baseball game of life goes on. I don't know what inning we are in, thankfully, but I'm hoping there are a few more to play. I'm not ready to end this game yet. It's just now been fun to play these past few years. I'm not even totally certain what the score is anymore. I'm certain it's a close game and with the comeback we've had to mount to get here I'm ok with that. I am convinced that if I'm going to win this baseball game of life I'm going to have to continue to play aggressive. I'm going to have to call for the hit and run occasionally. We might have to use the squeeze play or the double steal. In this game of life I'm aware that the greater the risks the greater the potential for reward.

I also know that down the stretch in these last innings of the game I've got some all-star teammates playing with me. I've got the ultimate designated hitter in a recovery support group. They never fail to drive in runs when called upon to hit. When we get to the last innings I know I've got the ultimate closer. I've got a higher power in my life who is just waiting to come in from the bullpen to close out a successful ballgame. As the game of life continues to be played the stands have filled back up. As I step up to the plate for yet another at bat my eyes slowly scan the stands. I see my three beautiful children sitting right behind my team's dugout avidly cheering for Daddy. My family has once again returned to watch the game, cheering more loudly than every. I've got a wonderful companion in my life who is proudly wearing a jersey with my number on it in support. I've got dozens and dozens of friends who start to cheer more and more loudly as the game becomes more and more of a nail biter. I look up into the clouds and see the image of my late Father, wearing his well worn Cardinals hat no doubt, smiling from ear to ear, enjoying another great ballgame.

I don't know what the outcome of this ballgame will be my friends. That's the beauty of baseball. The fact that anything can happen. What I do know is that if I continue to stick to the fundamentals and basics of the game I will have a chance to win. It's baseball. It's life. It's rarely boring. Life is like baseball my friends. In the end there is no such thing as a bad day at the ballpark.

I hope y'all enjoy a good Thursday and never give up in your own personal "game of life."

Changes

Mother Nature is finally starting to realize that it's supposed to be spring. My three children are all doing exceptionally well. My first season of softball in many years is well under way and at 4-2 as a team we are doing well. Spenser's pee wee baseball season has begun and he is doing well and enjoying himself. My beloved St. Louis Cardinals are in first place. I just recently celebrated my fifth continuous year of sobriety. I remain gainfully employed at a fairly rewarding job. I'm constantly surrounded by some of the most loyal and loving friends that God has ever allowed to grace planet Earth. I have a beautiful and loving woman in my life who has agreed to someday marry me. For all intents and purposes everything in life is looking good. Yet I've experienced several bouts of crankiness and moodiness lately.

For some reason every several months or so I experience these "growth" opportunities. I'm certain that most of my friends in recovery can relate to this. We often repeat a well worn phrase in recovery circles, "You either grow or you go." Sometimes I wonder if we even think about what these phrases actually mean before we parrot them to others.

You either grow or you go. It doesn't leave a lot of room for other options. The gist of the statement is that one either continues to grow spiritually and emotionally or that they will eventually drink and return to their old "un-sober" ways. It's a statement that I've seen bear some truth over my five year recovery journey. Those that don't change enough of their behaviors often do wind up not being sober. I certainly don't ever want to fall into the category of "goers."

So what is one to do when faced with the challenge of growing? Why is it that in the midst of a beautifully blessed life one becomes restless and uneasy? Surely I must be doing something wrong. I've done the gratitude lists and performed the daily meditations. I continue to actively sponsor men. I'm active in my recovery home group. I talk with my sponsor on a weekly basis. I suit up and show up to my obligations. The only thing left to do is the one thing I know will undoubtedly guide me through my growing; trudge.

Trudge is an odd word to use in conjunction with living a blessed life. Trudge - a long tedious walk. To walk wearily. Some have defined trudge as to move forward slowly. Anyway you look at it trudging is not a glamorous action. Yet I have found that the ability to trudge is one of my best assets. If life be troublesome and difficult, keep trudging and you'll get through. If life be splendid and a smashing success, keep trudging and you'll get through that too. One foot in front of the other. I know if I keep trudging long enough this too shall pass.

So I'm restless and cranky. I've identified that. Now what? Our old dear friend Mr. Personal Inventory pays a visit. As Eminem once said "I'm going through changes." Change...it isn't just for pockets anymore. It's one of those things in life that is constantly happening. The only thing that stays the same is that everything changes. I don't always adapt well to change. As a matter of fact I normally don't deal well with it at all. Especially when things change in life without my permission. I wish I was one of those mythical creatures who embrace change. Those that welcome it with wide open arms. Those are the folks usually running around with unicorns.

So I'm just going to hang on real tight and enjoy the ride. I'm going to put one foot in front of the other and continue to trudge the long tedious road of life. Somewhere along the way, whether it be in a day or two or a week or three, I will realize that I've come through on the other side of this thing and all will be roses and sunshine and then that will eventually change too. It's just another period of growth opportunity. Come and join me as we trudge this road of happy destiny.

What it Means to Be a Dad.

Howdy friends. I trust all is well in your individual lives. It's Spring and that is a good thing. Baseball season is here. The Toledo Mudhens opening day is today. Abby and I have been taking frequent walks. She likes riding in the stroller. OK enough chatter off we go.

I have been thinking a lot lately about what it means to be a Dad. Now just as an early disclaimer, let me state that I can only speak for myself. I'm a bit of a sentimental softy. Probably more of an emotionally sensitive guy than most. I know most of you see me as this big tough, fighter/brawler, athletic guy, but I've learned to embrace my emotions along the way as well. I am a very proud Father of three children. Spenser and McKenzie are 6 and a half year old twins and are both in first grade. They live with their Mother, about a half an hour west of Toledo and I usually only get to see them on weekends. Abigail is 3 months old.

Spenser Daniel is often referred to by my friends as my "mini-me." He is certainly all boy. Almost everything he does, or at least wants to do, revolves around sports or Lego's. From the moment he wakes up he is a ball of constant energy, constantly in motion. He doesn't really understand why school is important. He gets excellent grades but only because his parents push him to excel. He also has a very sensitive side a lot like his Dad does. He already has shown a tenacious interest in girls. He's told me about looking at "geographic" magazines and I've caught him going through Amy's Victoria's Secret catalogue. I don't encourage or discourage this I just try not to make a big deal out of it.

McKenzie Jean is a beautiful, vivacious, extremely intelligent little girl. Most people agree she is an even blend of her Mother and I as far as her looks go. She is already an avid reader who is reading at a fourth grade level. She loves school and getting good grades come very easy to her. She doesn't always listen well to her teacher or her parents. She is constantly chattering. She is also, typically, super sensitive and her feelings are easily hurt. She could care less about sports but has shown a desire to learn to dance. We've enrolled her in tap and ballet classes and some gymnastics/cheerleader stuff.

Abigail Elizabeth is a gorgeous three month old angel. Introducing her to the world has certainly been a life changing event. I've started to learn what it's like to be a full-time Dad. She likes watching Mickey's clubhouse and Max and Ruby on TV and she loves it when Daddy reads to her out of her Disney Princess story book. Lately her tongue is constantly hanging out driving Amy nuts. Amy blames this on me since I've attempted to teach Abby to stick her tongue out for the last two months or so. I work night shift and come home and take care of Abby all day during the week while Amy is at work. This combination of parenting a baby and sleep deprivation is a challenge but one I'm honored to take on. I never thought I'd have the opportunity to have another child and Abby is truly a blessing.

It's a totally amazing and overwhelming feeling the unconditional love your children give. Nothing warms my heart more than to hear the twins say "I love you Daddy," or seeing little Abby smile from ear to ear. I was talking with my sister Jennifer the other day about not coming from a hugging family. One that rarely uttered the "L" word. I don't want my children growing up like that so I'm constantly hugging them and telling them I love them. I don't want my son growing up thinking that it's wrong for boys to cry. I want my daughters to grow up as princesses and meet companions some day that treat them like queens.

Despite how awesome it is to be a Dad it is by far the greatest challenge I've ever faced in life. I am driven to provide my children a better life than I've had. I want them to have more opportunities than I had. My parenting style is pretty much to expose them to as many different things in life as I can think of and let them find what they enjoy. We've visited Art Museums, fairs, zoos, parks and many other things. We've fished, played baseball, had tea party's and searched for native American arrow heads together. Nothing in life compares to the contented feeling I get when I'm with my children. Being a Dad is the most important job I'll ever have.

Still I wonder about how we are going to afford college when they get to that age. Am I going to be able to afford to help them buy a vehicle when they turn 16? Will I be that cool open-minded Dad who loves and understands or will they force me to be the tough disciplinarian? I've told Abby that I know she will break Daddy's heart at least a thousand times. I thoroughly believe that. I know my children will make many decisions that I won't agree with. I just want them to know that they will never outgrow their Daddy's love.

Much is written by Men about their relationships with their Dads. Why is it there are so few things written by Dad's about their children?

If you get the chance check out this song by Conway Twitty. It's become my motto in life. I sing it to Abby a lot. I try singing it to the twins but they don't sit still long enough. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L7XK_zNq930

I hope you all have a wonderful Thursday evening. Hug your children and never let them forget that they are loved.

How to help lower gas prices.

Good morning folks. It's a grand and glorious day indeed. Opening day 2011 for Major League Baseball. Even the Cubs are tied for first place today. Of course if you actually admit to being a Cubs fan you're going to need a lot more help than this simple blog can provide. Having said that let's move on to the topic at hand.

Apparently, according to facebook, (where else does one go to find information?) today is the day we are all going to stick it to the big oil companies and boycott the gas pump! Finally we are going to show them. Thousands have pledged to go all day without pumping any gas! This'll show 'em that we won't put up with this treachery.

Now I don't claim to be a mathematician. I'm certainly not an expert in anything really (although I've been told that nobody does nothing better than me)but I must say the gas pump boycotts don't make any sense. I'm going to attempt to explain why boycotting gas pumps are a bad thing and how we (you and I) can really make a difference.

After researching a couple of different online sources (does anyone research with books anymore?) I've discovered that Americans consume around 400 millions gallons of gasoline every day. That's right around 20 million barrels of oil. Now let's say that we somehow convinced every single American to avoid purchasing gasoline today. Why that would be fantastic wouldn't it? Oil companies wouldn't make a single American cent on this March 31! Hold the wedding my friends. Would this not actually increase oil demands over the next several days? Let's say just for theories sake that over the next 4 days we consumed 500 million gallons per day. This would actually temporarily increase demand for gasoline thus increasing the price of a gallon of gas.

So what's a petroleum addicted country to do you might ask? Find a way to decrease demand my friends. It's simple. I think it's simple anyway. Lets have a go at it. There are approximately 308 million people living in this great land. (According to the 2010 census) We use around 2.8 billion gallons of gasoline a week which equates to about 9 plus gallons of fuel per person per week. What if we could get that number down to around 8 gallons a week? This is where we can make a difference.

If we could all figure out a way to cut our personal fuel consumption by 1.3 gallons a week that would make major ripples in the oil industry. 1.3 gallons per person is the equivalent of one days consumption. By my calculations (which are likely to be wrong, once again I'm no mathematician) this could cause the price of a gallon of gas to dip 50 to 75 cents. Fairly significant I'd conclude.

Let's take a look at all the ways we consume oil. It takes oil to make plastic bottles. Many folks heat their homes with oil. We put gasoline in our lawnmowers, weed trimmers, garden tillers and sidewalk edgers. We put gas in our cars and motorcycles. Oil is used to make compact discs, candles, as additives in food and detergents in cleaning supplies. Oil is used to make the ink in pens and printers. It's used to make the rubber on many types of shoes. We use it power tractors and many types of farm equipment. We use lots of it to fuel airplanes. Yes my friends we are certainly a country addicted to oil.

My conclusions and I hope yours as well is that we are wasting our time with gas boycotts. We ought to be spending time discussing ways we can reduce our country's oil consumption. Perhaps we can find ways to use less plastic bottles or cut our grass one less time each summer. (Better yet I've been looking online at "old fashioned" mowers. The ones with spinning blades and no engines) Maybe we can ride our bicycle to work once a week this summer or walk to the corner store instead of driving there for that loaf of bread. We can make a difference.

Of course we all know the oil companies will simply cut their production of oil to meet the weakened demand. People in the oil industry are smart. They keep setting new records for profits every year. They spill oil in our waters and take about 10% of your incomes. Maybe we should research a little more into how they make so much money year in and year out. Alas that's a topic for another day. I'm off to watch ESPN and baseball. Happy Opening Day my beloved readers.

Unions. Thank God for Them.

Good afternoon faithful blog readers. Yes both of you! Baseball season opening day is tomorrow. How 'bout them Redbirds huh?

Hey anyone read anything lately about states eliminating people's rights to unionize? Have you heard anything about the work of the state republicans in Wisconsin? In Indiana? In my adopted home state of Ohio? These are definitely some emotionally charged issues. I'm not unbiased. I'm your average union worker. Hard working. Loyal. Dependable. I believe these actions by Wisconsin, Indiana and Ohio are unconstitutional. Let's explore Unions a little bit shall we? Maybe along the way we can debunk a few myths and gain a little gratitude for the working man.

FACTS-

- In order for a job to be unionized there has to have at one point been a vote taken amongst employees and a majority must have voted for their right to unionize.

- If you work a 40 hour week, have health insurance and retirement benefits, work in safe conditions, enjoy a coffee break and lunch break on your job, then you should have some gratitude for labor unions. Without unions you wouldn't have these "perks."

Republican leaders and talking heads continuously point out the college professor saying it's difficult to live on $100,000. It's easy to see why those of us struggling to get by on $60,000 annual family incomes scoff at this. But I ask is this really all we are paying our high seniority professors? We pay the Presidents of state universities millions of dollars and pay for their housing and vehicles. Many sports coaches at public universities are millionaires many times over. Many of the highest educated people go on to make fortunes in the private sector. A few of these stay behind to teach future generations for a small percentage of the salaries of private workers.

What about the janitors at the public universities? These men and women making $35,000 a year? Or the secretaries making $30,000? Or the campus police making $28,000? Taking away these working folk's right to collectively bargain is borderline criminal.

I've overheard a lot of comments from folks grateful that their company is non-union. Grateful they work for good people who value employees. That's all well and good but let's not forget that unions set the tone for industry. Many non union jobs pay significantly less than union wages. So obviously unions are good for the middle class and bad for wealthy CEO's and company owners.

We often hear all the myths about all unions do is keep bad workers from getting fired. Sure that sometimes happens. How about my experiences? When I screwed my knee up pretty bad playing recreational softball it was a union that helped me keep my employment while I healed. It was a union that helped pay my bills and feed my kids. I remember when I finally reached out for help and decided to address my drinking problem. It was a union that helped me keep my job then too while I spent time in a treatment center trying to heal. It was also a union that insured I received medical pay while in treatment. I remember when as a teamster on a particular job some managers had started doing some of the union employee's work. It resulted in the loss of several hundred dollars of weekly income for me personally and many others as well. After winning a grievance that income was restored. What would I have done without my union brothers then?

Let's not forget folks that unions are a constitutional right. They are a true testament to a democratic nation. Weakening these unions give more control and power to our government and to big business. When business gains power it's bad for all of us.

Our State Senators and Representatives received raises this year. The top gubernatorial aides received significant raises. These folks don't pay for retirement or health insurance either and they make much more money than the average state employee. Taking away a man's collective bargaining rights is a shame. We can't let this happen. How soon until we can recall Kasich?

-"It is one of the characteristics of a free and democratic nation that it have free and independent labor unions." -Franklin Delano Roosevelt

Tad Bit O' Tid Bits....

Just some random things going through me head today as I prepare to put my suit and tie on and take my six year old daughter to our first father daughter dance this evening.

- Do you think Albert Pujols will have a career year in this contract year? Can you imagine what a career year would be for Albert?

- Happy 48th Birthday to arguably the greatest athlete of my lifetime....Michael "Air" Jordan. Is the second greatest athlete of my lifetime Bo Jackson?

- Will there ever be more heart-warming moments in my life than watching my month old daughter smile?

- Do you think the Cardinal that seems to live in the evergreen tree in our backyard is a reminder my Father is watching over? I just saw that damn Cardinal on the fence today for the first time this year. My Dad was one heck of a Cardinals fan.

- Does anyone in the United States of America really, truly care about the Royal Wedding?

- How long do you think Facebook will "punish" me by keeping my account disabled for including my nickname in my name? The more time that passes by the more I get involved with Twitter (@porkchopdenton) and the more I could care less about Facebook.

- Congrats to one of the elite St. Louis Cardinals Greats. Stan Musial received the "Medal of Freedom" award from President Obama this past Tuesday.

- If only 3 people regularly read my blogs are they relevant?

I'm out folks. Will be in the Chicago-land area this weekend visiting some of Amy's family. I can't wait for a Portilla's Chicago Style Hot Dog.

Albertgeddon

Good morning friends, noblemen and baseball fanatics alike. I come to ye all with a very heavy heart this afternoon. The news from the Cardinals Spring Training camp about negotians coming to an end with the "iconic" Albert Pujols is nothing short of heart-wrenching.

First, before people holler and yell at me for getting my facts wrong, I UNDERSTAND THAT ALBERT CAN AND MAY STILL EXTEND HIS CONTRACT WITH THE CARDINALS AT THE END OF THE SEASON! He may very well have every intention of doing so. Dear readers I'm a die-hard Cardinals fan. This fact was established the night my Mother had to rock me to sleep, whilst I lay in bed sobbing and heartbroken at the age of 9. The Twins had just beaten the Cardinals in the 1987 World Series. I have hated the evil Minnesota Twins since that god-forsaken day. As an avid reader my book shelves are filled, yeah even littered, with bits and pieces of Cardinals literature. The Spirit of St. Louis being my favorite Cardinals book, followed closely by Three Nights in August. Yeah I even once told a former spouse that I did indeed love the St. Louis Cardinals more than I loved her. I don't recommend doing that dear readers, but in all fairness I had loved the Cardinals much longer than I had even known her. The Cardinals were much more faithful too dear friends.

Albert, Albert Albert! He is no longer a legendary hero in my book. His image is forever tarnished. Remember Mark McGwire? He is forever beloved in St. Louis because he took less than market value to remain in St. Louis. Albert? He says he loves money more than he loves the Cardinals dear friends. Write this down....Cardinals fans will overwhelmingly and vociferously let Mr. Pujols know how they feel about him this Summer. I don't think he will be booed but fans will let him know. After all we are the best baseball fans in the world friends. Our love of baseball is legendary my fellow fans. St. Louis is the best baseball city in the world and we love and adore our heroes like no one else. Ozzie Smith? My all time hero in life and the greatest shortstop that ever lived. He could easily be Mayor of St. Louis or Govenor of Missouri should he choose to go those routes. Whitey Herzog, Bob Gibson, Stan Musial? Heroes that my fellow fans and I speak of in reverent tones. Tom Lawless, Tom Pagnozzi and Terry Pendleton? I love those guys.

I've got to find a way to get to the point somewhere in here. In the words of the late great Hunter S. Thompson (I'm currently reading his book "The Kingdom of Fear") "How long O Lord, How Long!" This ain't the Cavaliers of Cleveland Albert and this ain't the NBA. Your dealing with Major league Baseball, America's Pastime, and the St. Louis Cardinals the greatest team in America's greatest sport.

Mr. Pujols....forget the pressure of the Players association. Put aside and ideas that as the best player in today's game you should set records for financial reimbursment. Sign a damn deal and allow Cardinal Nation to continue our long running love affair. Sign the damn deal and go hug Matt Holliday for being willing to give up a million or two to keep you in St. Louis.

I have a 6 year old son. Spenser is blossoming into quite the little Cardinals fan. Last summer as we played baseball in the backyard and practiced for his season in coach pitch baseball, he and I debated whether he was a better hitter than Albert. He decided that at the very least he was much better at 5 than Albert. Possibly but probably not. I assure you this my friends...that little boy has more love for the game embedded deep in his heart than Albert will ever know. Sign the deal Albert. Your hero status in the next generation of Cardinals fans depend on it. You could be my son's "Ozzie Smith."

I gotta end this damn blog. I'm lost in a well of self-pity and morass. Tears have forever stained my keyboard. My dogs are looking at me funny. Long live the Redbirds of St. Loo, God's favorite baseball team.

Post Ground Hog Day Blues

Wow I haven't blogged in a long time. Life has gotten pretty busy with a lot of different things lately. New job, new friends, old friends and the like have managed to keep life moving in the fast lane. I got engaged. My fiancee and I had a baby. I got banned from Facebook for having a fake name. Lots of exciting things. I started a twitter account. You can find me there @porkchopdenton. I went to Twitter because I was banned from Facebook. Apparently it's a grave sin and a serious security risk to have your nickname as your middle name on Facebook. Apparently that is punishable by automatically disabling your account. Ah...such is life....and it is a good one. I reckon I will attempt to figure this tweeting stuff out and maybe visit "ye olde blog" a few more times in the downtime. Happy Ground Hog's Day friends.

Peace