one more thing

one thing I forgot to mention...I saw MC Hammer in the Atlanta airport. He was just walking through concourse C in a pure white suit and white shoes. No entourage or anything - just chillin' - I'm 98% sure it was him.

twice as sad

I was at the mall today and I saw something that struck me as really sad. I saw an Emo kid in a wheelchair. She was the real deal too - My Chemical Romance hoody, black hair, checked vans, the whole 9 - just rollin through Town East in her wheelchair. So not only was she full of angst - she was crippled too. Doesn't that just seem twice as sad as just being a regular old depressed emo kid?

it was a rough night...

We're gonna just pick up where we left off...you haven't missed much. So anyway... yesterday started out pretty good but ended very, very ugly. I had to fly to Cincinnati for a business trip on Thursday. Everything was going well. Nice rental car, good meals, great hotel...even the flight to Cincinnati (through Houston by the way - how stupid is that? That's like driving through Dallas to get to Wichita from Derby) was pretty good. A little rough but nothin' too fierce. I got in to town at a decent hour and had a pretty good meal and a good night's sleep. The flight home on Friday evening is where things start to go south for ol' T-bone. First of all, I'm flying on Delta. Do yourself a favor and just never do this. I would suggest that you either rent a car or stow away in the steerage section of a Chinese junk steamer or a luxury ocean liner like they did in Titanic. You could even hop a freight train like Alf and Willie Tanner did in that classic episode. Any of these options would be preferable to flying on Delta airlines.

My flight from Cinci to Atlanta was on a 767 which is a nice plane, but unless you're in first class you are so cramped that there's literally not even enough space between you and the seat in front of you to fully open a laptop computer, let alone cross your legs or more more than a few inches. And since the seat next to me was of course occupied, I was so cramped that I couldn't even keep my seat up - I kept mashing the button to recline it with my leg. This resulted in me trying to balance myself on one cheek during the takeoff and landing so I didn't incur the wrath of the stewardess who was not @$#%@# around as they say regarding FAA safety guidelines. Also the plane took off half an hour late because there weren't any pilots in Atlanta who could fly the plane to Newark for it's next leg so we were actually on the runway waiting for another pilot to drive into the airport so he could get on our plane and fly to Atlanta with us.

So when we finally get to Atlanta I've got about 20 minutes to get from my gate in terminal T to terminal C...(if you're keeping score at home, that's a long freaking hike even with the trams and moving sidewalks). So I get to my gate with about 30 seconds to spare before they start boarding my flight from Atlanta to the ICT. I get on board and prepare for a 2 and half hour flight with my knees in my chest. In the meantime, the Gold Coast coconut shrimp and the Gin and Tonic(s) I had at the Outback Steakhouse in the Cincinnati airport have combined in my stomach to create something akin to Hurricane Katrina. I'm talking Category 5 gut-busting belly cramps. I was about to ask the stewardess if she had any Midol (but based on her attitude I'm pretty sure she's never heard of the stuff).

Needless to say by the time we went wheels down in Wichita, I was ready to go home and hopefully catch the end of the KU game. So I go to the baggage claim to claim my borrowed suitcase (thanks K-dog). If you've ever waited at a baggage claim after a flight, you'll be familiar with the scene I'm about to describe. I'm standing there watching all of the suitcases come through the plastic curtain and down the conveyer. After a few minutes of not seeing my bag, I start to get nervous but I'm not panicking yet. Then I start to realize that I've seen the same bag twice now and still haven't seen mine. I start to get that sick feeling in my stomach now (this is not related to the shrimp). I realize at this point that even though I made my connection in Atlanta apparently my bag hasn't. So I walk to the other end of the airport to the Delta counter and there is nobody there. The lights are off, it is now approximately 10:30pm. I call Delta Airlines 800 number to report my bag missing. I am told by Haji at their call center in Bangalore, India that I have to open a missing bag claim at the airport and can't do it over the phone. I tell him "There is nobody here from Delta. The lights are off and they've gone home." I spend the next 30 minutes arguing this point with him. He tells me his supervisor is trying to contact somebody at Delta. I tell him "I can hear the phone ringing at the Delta ticket counter. There is nobody there to answer it." This goes on for another 10 minutes or so and they finally decide that I'm telling the truth and decide to open a lost baggage case for me over the phone. So I leave the airport expecting that my bag will probably be delivered to me this morning. It's 8:20pm right now and as of 30 minutes ago Delta still doesn't know where my bag is. The upshot is that if they can't find it within 5 days I can file a claim to be reimbursed for the contents (which include my black suit, a new dress shirt, two ties, my dress wingtips, my watch, my travel case, a pair of jeans, and 2 t-shirts). And according to their website, it will only take them 8-10 weeks to mail me a check.

Be sure and check out my new website - www.deltaairlinescansuckmyback.com. It will be up soon...

Brokeback Mountain redux

ok, I don't know what happened to it but my post from Saturday dissapeared. I won't even try to re-create it because it was lightning in a bottle...pure comic gold that can't be respun. I will repost the video clips because I think they're clever. As an added bonus, I'm going to link a couple of other clips that I think are also very clever. It's a really brilliant illustration of how deceptive video can be especially in the editing process. Just remember...when you watch a movie...you're seeing what they want you to see not necessarily what really happend. Enjoy

Because I promised I would

Ok, I don't really have an awful lot to say right now but I have to make myself do this or I'll get out of the habit again and I know none of us want that. I'm listening to Bob Dylan right now. I almost forgot how much I used to love listening to him when I was younger. I bought a tape of Dylan's Greatest Hits with one of my first paychecks from McD's when I was 16. I still have it in a shoebox somewhere. That's pretty rad I think. In other news, my bro graduated from Police school - he's out on the streets protecting and serving as I type this. My youngest son prays for him every night. His prayer the other night went something like this - "Dear Jesus please help uncle Justin not to get killed and please help me not to get stung in the eye by a bee - Amen". Amen, indeed.

Dark Waters

In the past week I have seen and heard some of the devastating effects that water can have in ways that I could not have imagined possible in my country. The most obvious example of this was, of course, the hurricane that decimated the Gulf Coast. I have watched and read and listened as the aftermath of this storm has devolved from a natural disaster of Biblical proportions to a hellish nightmare of men at their primal worst. Being from Kansas and growing up with the constant threat of tornados, I thought I had a pretty good understanding of what destruction looked like. I have stood in the rubble of a trailer park after a monster tornado was through with it. Apparently, I hadn't seen anything yet. I thought I had a pretty good understanding of what desperation looked like. I had seen it on TV in the faces of the Tsunami survivors and before that, in the faces of the 9/11 survivors. I hadn't seen desperation like I'm seeing now. I told someone the other day that it reminded me of one of some post-apocalyptic zombie movie. The people in New Orleans are the "living dead" right now. I am shocked and ashamed at the appalling slowness of our government's response to these events. We have been inundated with press conferences and promises but it took 4 days to get the national guard on the ground in New Orleans. We can get troops to Iraq faster than that. That we have allowed what remains of that city to be overrun by looters, thugs, rapists and murderers is a crime in itself and someone should have to answer for that. The fact that we live in the richest nation in the history of civilization and we have hospitals sheltering desperately ill and injured people with no food or water for over 4 days is unforgivable. We are seeing bureaucracy it its very worst and the people of Louisiana and Mississippi are dying because of it. There is no country on earth better equipped to handle an emergency like this than we are and yet they are literally dying in the streets.

In an event closer to home but certainly no less devastating, a little girl drowned last week in Arkansas City. She was 3 years old and left behind her twin sister, a 5 year old sister and both of her parents. I didn't know the family but I work with people who were close to them. As I listened to people relating the details of this awful event and the subsequent funeral, I began pondering what it must feel like to have your soul ripped away from your body like that. I was reminded of a line in an old Don Henley song:

In a New York Minute

Everything can change

In a New York Minute

Things can get a little strange

In a matter of just a few minutes, what began as a beautiful day at the lake turned into a nightmare that one family will not soon wake from. When I contrast these two separate events, Hurricane Katrina and the tragic drowning of little Maya Wells, I am left with one stark truth. We are so small and so not in control of our destiny. I'm reminded of another line from another song:

You were seduced by the wonder of your invention

then laid low by a flick of God's hand

We build extravagant cities with sea walls and levees and canals and somehow suppose that this can protect us from all of nature's God given fury. We build emotional walls and levees in our own lives to protect us from what we most fear. What we discover in every case though, is that these walls dissipate like wet sand when they are hit with the force of something like the drowning of a 3 year old child.

Of mullets and tears in my beer...

One of the ways my life has changed since I bought my mp3 player, is that I am now returning to some styles of music that I haven't listened to a whole lot recently. This week my genre of choice has been country. As I was browsing through my music service I came across this little gem from Joe Diffie. Not only does it contain great songs like "John Deere Green" and "If I had any pride left at all" my man Joe also sports without a doubt one of the all time great country music mullets.

I'm so sore...

I helped put a sprinkler system in my yard this weekend. I can tell you two things about the experience. First, installing a sprinkler system isn't complicated but it is without a doubt the hardest I have ever worked in my life. Second, you can measure the closeness of your friendships by how those friends react when faced with incredibly hard work that has no immediate benefit to themselves. My friend Curtis, who runs his own sprinkler installation business, spent the entire day with me, his brother Chris and my brother Justin installing a sprinkler system at my house. We worked for about 11 hours on this project. Not once during the entire day did any of these guys complain or act like they didn't want to be there. They did it just because I asked them to and because they all know that I would do the same for them. I have been blessed with some of the most giving friends imaginable and I thank God for them and the closeness we share. Even though I feel like I've been hit by a bus, yesterday was one of my best days ever.

I think I'm gonna be sick...

It's been a while since I felt physically ill after reading an article in the newspaper but this account in the Sunday edition of the Wichita Eagle did the trick. Fred Phelps is at it again and (if this is possible) his actions have become even more vile and reprehensible than you could possibly imagine. He is now picketing the funerals of American service men and women who are being killed in Iraq. He says that God is punishing America for a bombing that took place at his "church" several years ago. In addition to his old standard "God Hates Fags", he is now picketing with signs that say things like "Thank God for IEDs" and "They gave America over to fags, they're coming home in body bags". In case you're not aware, IED is military lingo for Improvised Explosive Device. The official warnings that were sent down through the ranks of the U.S. military indicates that they believe Phelps is attempting to incite some kind of violence against himself or his people, in response to which he would file a lawsuit in an attempt to win a monetary settlement that would serve to fund his groups future activities. To borrow a turn of phrase from Leonard Pitts of the Miami Herald..."You unspeakable bastard". I have never seen a creature so filled with hatred for the world around him. How miserable it must be to have a soul so tormented with such obvious self-loathing. He reminds me of The Gollum only without any of the sympathetic qualities - he's just a creature who perhaps was once a man. Never was a soul so in need of the redeeming love of Christ...the tragedy of his life is that he has been so blinded by his hatred and by his perverted and twisted interpretation of the Bible that he may never see that need. Pray for the soul of Fred Phelps and all who wallow in his demonic doctrine of hate.

Love vs. Romance

During my nearly 2 hour commute every day I listen to a lot of music. (It's either that or talk to myself and I'm not planning on starting that for at least a few years.) Anyway, I've been listening to How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb by U2. One of the things that strikes me as both profound and a little surprising, given the state of todays music, is the distinction that Bono makes between love and romance. Although Bono is no stranger to recurring lyrical themes, I think it's interesting that he goes to the same well, so to speak, at least twice on this record.

In "Miracle Drug" (my favorite song on the album) he says:

"...I’ve had enough of romantic love
I’d give it up, yeah, I’d give it up
For a miracle, miracle drug"

In "A Man and a Woman" he says:

"You can run from love
And if it’s really love it will find you
Catch you by the heel
But you can’t be numb for love
The only pain is to feel nothing at all
How can I hurt when I’m holding you?

No I could never take a chance
On losing love to find romance
In the mysterious distance
Between a man and a woman"

Like any good song, these will mean different things to different people, but for me they speak to the temporary nature of romance in general. Unless we fight to keep it alive in our relationships it will naturally fade over time. That isn't to say the romance isn't an important part of love, but it's not all there is. It can't be. I think that what Bono is saying is that romance on it's own without anything behind it or beneath it is really quite empty and unsatisfying. That's not a perspective you hear much in today's popular music. I think it speaks volumes about the maturity and depth that U2 exhibits in their songs.