25 Years

Time passes so quickly. Along the way, we find milestones. We divide up time into segments and attach significance to those segments.

For some reason, someone at some point decided that every 25 years, every quarter of a century, would be a significant time-frame for reflection on an event.

25 years doesn’t really seem that long, but it is. And it’s also very quick.

300 months….. 9125 days…. 5,475,000 hours….. 328,500,000 minutes.... 19,710,000,000 seconds.

One day, you’re a sixth-grader, out of school on a snowy teacher workday. The next, you’re a 36-year-old dad-to-be, working as a public relations director at a college.

One day, it’s Jan. 28, 1986. The next, it’s Jan. 28, 2011.

Today is 25 years to the day since the flight of Challenger mission STS 51-L. It has been 25 years since it exploded shortly after launch and its crew – Dick Scobee, Greg Jarvis, Michael Smith, Judith Resnick, Ronald McNair, Ellison Onizuka, and Christa McAuliffe – ascended from the Earth into heaven. 

It has been 25 years since those heroes became angels.

It was one of those significant days in history that will be indeliably etched into the minds of a generation - as  the days of the Apollo 11 moon landing, assassination of John F. Kennedy, or the attack on Pearl Harbor were for generations before and Sept 11, 2001 was for another generation.

It really doesn’t seem that long ago. I still remember all the feelings associated with watching it unfold on TV and all the feelings afterwards. The hurt, the confusion… and then later on came the anger as we all learned about the circumstances of the launch and all the political maneuvering behind the scenes.

Is it bad that society as a whole tends to only reflect on significant events like this on their 25th, 50th , 75th, or 100th anniversary? Some may say no. Their argument may include reasons like “Why drag it back up every year?”  or "There's no benefit in talking about it anymore..." Unfortunately, we’re starting to hear that on Sept. 11th.

Is it bad that we don’t reflect significantly on those events more often than 25-year increments? Some people may say yes. Their argument may include reasons like “We constantly need to reflect on our history and what we are learning from it each year…” or “What happened then is still impacting us today….” Or “Those feelings just naturally come up at that time every year.”

I’ve blogged about my passion and interest in spaceflight and space exploration before. I’ve blogged about the impact of the loss of the Challenger crew on my life before. I’m not going to rehash all that right now; if you want you can go back and read it here

Ronald Reagan gave a very profound, inspirational, and impactful speech the night of the Challenger explosion. In it, he said, “Nothing ends here. Our hopes and our journey continue.”

Despite the current state of our space program, our economy, and our general public disinterest in exploring new frontiers, I hope that statement from President Reagan is indicative of greater things to come.

My daughter will be 24 on the 50th anniversary of the Challenger explosion. Many of her generation may only ever read about it in textbooks or on Wikipedia; or hear it talked about on grainy archival news footage.

But I will tell her about how it affected me. I will tell her about the importance of heroes, dreams, and ambition. Hopefully she will find it as inspirational as I do.

 “Challenger wasn’t the final chapter in space exploration; just a transitional chapter in this great book. The book will continue with new exciting chapters of exciting adventures, discoveries and achievements ….  It’s time for the next 25 years to unfold. Let us boldly look to the future,” June Scobee, wife of Challenger astronaut Dick Scobee, said this morning at a memorial at Kennedy Space Center.

So let’s see what the next 25-year chapter will bring.

WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA

"Follow the dots, eat the dots. Follow the dots, eat the dots."

"Ooops, turn around, Clyde's on my tail. Here comes Inky...... gotta get ahead, gotta get ahead."

"C'mon dude, move it, move it....."

"Yes, a power pellet! HA HA! Time to eat me some ghosts"

How many times have I said any of the above, I wonder.

How many miles of arcade screen did I drive that little yellow dude, I wonder.

Alot. Many quarters worth. But it has always been fun, whether in it's original form, the super-sized version, or even the Ms. version.

I had Pac Man fever for many years of my youth.

When I was in college, I had an HP-48SX graphic calculator on which I installed Pac Man (along with Joust, Tetris, and a few others).

No matter what computer I have had, I have always had a version of Pac Man on it.

My wife and I were recently in Myrtle Beach for a few days - and the morning we were checking out, as I was on my way to get a luggage cart, I noticed a Pac Man machine in the game room. I just happened to have a couple quarters in my pocket.

So I used them.

The joystick felt the same - like it and my mind instantly connected and became one for the nth time.. Like some sort of arcade Jedi. Use the force Brian, let it guide your Pac Man.

I felt like I was six again. I burned through about a dollars worth of quarters and then wandered on to get the luggage cart, disappointed I was out of change.

I grew up on Pac Man. We used to line up to play it in the arcade at the YMCA where I spent many afternoons of my youth. I listened to the song. I watched the Saturday morning cartoon.

And I celebrated his 30th birthday today. Happy birthday little yellow dude!

The 2000s

They say that this was the worst decade ever.

I didn’t live through the Great Depression, but I have a feeling that the 1930s could give the 2000s a serious run for its money as being the worst decade ever.

I just wonder who DIDN’T vote for the 1340s to be the worst decade ever --- despite the fact that it was in the middle of the Dark Ages, a time when belief in science was considered heresy, and it was a decade when nearly 200 million people died of the bubonic plague.

I would tend to think that the 2000s was not the worst decade ever.

It wasn’t exactly the greatest decade ever, I’ll give it that.

I think most people will find that as they grow up, they look back on one or two decades during the life as their own personal favorites. But I think a lot of that is just due to the natural changes in people’s lifestyles, life stages, and outlooks at any given point.

You go through a decade of your childhood – when you just enjoy being a kid. You go through a decade of transition. You go through a decade in the real world when you get what’s left of the recklessness of youth out of your system, establish your identity as an adult, begin a family and begin a career.

Then you go through a few decades of being a provider, father or mother, family leader, and also experience career growth or changes.

And as that goes on, you watch the next generation go through the same cycle.

A lot of people think the 1980s was a cess pool of greed, excess, and debauchery.

It may have had its problems. But I think most of my generation will defend the 1980s to the teeth as a great decade. Was it the greatest decade ever? In some regards maybe, in others probably not.

We experienced the birth of MTV, the video game industry, countless fads and trends – and lots of other cultural changes, new ideals, and role models – all of which helped to shape our outlook, serve as a backdrop for our youth, and mold us into who were are today. We did have one thing going for us though in that the U.S. had its second greatest president ever to lead it through the majority of the decade.

And I don’t think most of us Children of the 80s turned out too bad.

Not that I don’t think that the children of the 2000s will turn out bad as a whole, but something tells me they won’t be as quick to defend the decade of their youth as the Children of the 80s are.

That being said, again, I don’t think the 2000s were an entirely bad decade. It had its pros – and it had its cons.

I just hope as we all have all gone through this decade that the things we have all learned through our shared experiences will help make the 2010s a much better decade.

So here’s to a new decade. It can always be worse than the one before, but let’s hope not.

The Hughes Legacy

The first time I ever watched The Breakfast Club, I thought "This movie is awesome." A lot of people can identify with it. The brain. The athlete. The basket case. The princess. The criminal....

20+ years later I still believe that.

Then there was Ferris. Everyone wanted to be Ferris. Everyone understood Ferris. Ferris rocked.

Along the way, Say Anything. Sixteen Candles. Uncle Buck. Planes, Trains and Automobiles. Home Alone.

All the creation of John Hughes.

John has one of the Hollywood legacies that people will remember for years to come. He will go down as a Hollywood legend. If he doesn't, myself and an innumerable amount of fans will be seriously disappointed.

I've put several posts or comments today on my Facebook page about Mr. Hughes and his movies.

Then I stumbled across this heartwarming gem from a blog called We'll Know When We Get There.

A posted entitled "Sincerely, John Hughes" by a lady named Allison Byrne Fields.

If you're a fan of John Hughes' movies, you need to read this. If you're not, you still need to. And make sure you read the comments at the bottom of it also.

I can write all day about my love of Mr. Hughes' movies. How much they made me laugh. How much I identified with many of his characters at some point.

But even if I wanted to try, I couldn't even touch the poignancy, the personal connection or the emotions of Ms. Fields' blog post.

She's written what I feel is one of my favorite blog posts ever. Thank you for that Allison.

And I thank you John. My generation thanks you.

We'll miss you.

A 30-Year Love Affair

My ears perked up. Sort of like what happens with a dog when they hear something that surprises them or they're trying to identify a sound. As much as they can perk anyway.

My wife gave me a quizzical look. Then I grinned.

"Do you hear it," I said.

"Ummm... what?," she asks.

I tuned my ears for that sound I thought I just heard -- a sound a child falls in love with at an early age while on summer break from school --- just to make sure. Yup, there it was again.

Then my wife heard it and responded, "Is that an ice cream truck?"

"Yes it is!" I exclaimed, as I jumped up and scrambled for some cash.

Where's some cash? No cash. Stupid debit card..... where's some change?

"Honey, where's all our change," I'm screaming through the house like a madman.

She gets up and starts picking coins out of her change box on the dresser.

Impatiently I reach over, grab the box, and turn it upside down as coins rain down into my hand.

"You're crazy," she says as I grin.... "Go get me a Brown Mule ice cream bar"

"OK," I'm yelling as I'm running out of the house to locate the source of the music.

It's already passed our house going up into the cul-de-sac. So I wait. It comes back towards us. Turns up the side road cul-de-sac. And starts coming my way.

And I'm sort of laughing at myself and the situation, but more grinning as they pull up beside me.

I'm sure the neighbors were amused. They may have wondered 'What does this idiot think he is, five years old?"

Frankly, I don't care what they may have thought. The ice cream truck was here.

I was happy. I picked through the coins counting how much I had. Just enough for something for both of us.

She got her ice cream and I got myself an orange pushup. Sweet.

I know I sound like a child, but I have had a 30-year love affair with ice cream trucks. My sister and I both can hear one coming from a mile away. It's just a sound that brings back a lot of memories of "MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM, I need some quarters. THE ICE CREAM TRUCK'S COMING!!!!"

Except now it's, "Honey, where's all our freaking change!!!???"

We have an ice cream truck that drives through the campus of the college I work from time to time in spring and even during the summer when the students aren't there. Why when students aren't there, I don't know... I guess they know that I'll give them business if I'm around.

My wife had her first experience with an ice cream truck a few years ago when we were living in an apartment not too far from where we went to college. She lived out in the country growing up; we lived in a neighborhood full of kids that was on the regular route of area trucks. We would assail the truck en-masse, scan the pictures of the treats plastered on the side of the truck with wonder "What do I want, what do I want?" and then fight to get to the window to get our treat.

She never had that experience.

I have always thought of ice cream trucks as a special slice of Americana. As a right of passage for all children. Obviously not everyone has that experience.

The first time she heard the jingle of that magical music, she was like "What is that weird music?"

I had already beat her to the punch -- before she was able to say anything I had leaped all the way across the room to look out the window for an ice cream truck.

I got the same response then as I did the other day -- "you're funny". This all went down on Saturday.

So this evening after getting home from work, I heard the music again. Before it was on our road. Didn't have to look out. I had faith it was turning up our road.

It did. And I had some change ready. And I got a Rocket Pop this time.

I don't know if our neighborhood is a regular stomping ground for this ice cream truck, but if it is I'm really looking forward to the rest of this summer.

Thoughts on 35

People always say that turning 30 is a big deal, but 30 didn't really phase me. Let's see... I turned 30 in 2004. W was running for reelection. I was too busy hoping he would be reelected than to even remember now what I did for my 30th birthday.

It was one of those days that was just another day.

My 20s are a blur. Despite the fact I can't remember what I did on my 25th birthday, it was a milestone because I got my auto insurance break. I do remember that on my 21st birthday, my buddy Blake and I went to Applebee's where they burned my steak.

16 and 18 are milestones for anyone, but I can't remember what I did on either birthday - other than became old enough to get my license and then old enough to vote.

What's happening to my memory?

I don't know in another 35 years if I will remember what I did today on my 35th birthday. If Blogspot is still around and this blog is, then I guess I can go back through the archives. That's an interesting picture -- me blogging at age 70. That's if my senility holds.

If I remember this birthday for anything it will be for just feeling old.

My wife and I helped administer the SAT this morning. At one point, I realized that most of the kids there were born in 1992 or 1993. I graduated high school in 1992 and now they're about to do the same this time next year.

I feel old.

The little kindergarten girl whose picture I took with David Beasley in James M. Brown Elementary School's library on the first day of school on my first favorite day of being a newspaper reporter in 1997 could have been one of those students in my classroom today - and is probably excited about next year being her last year of school.

I feel old.

I dare say all the kids in my classroom this morning were born after our first foray into Iraq - after we turned tail and ran home, leaving the job unfinished for another 12 years.

But the world changes. Styles change, cultures change, attitudes change, leadership changes, music changes, technology changes, idols change and seasons change. But the one thing we can always count on is getting older.

As I listened to and took pictures of one of our professors at the college I work at teaching one of his religion courses recently, he asked "Who here can tell me about David Koresh and the Branch Dividians?" The room was silent. I remember the whole Waco thing going down on TV - sitting in the dorm room and watching the news clips of the fire and the entrance into the compound.

I feel old.

There are a few grays here and there. It's a little harder to get up off the ground now. My knees feel it when I get up from standing on them to shoot photos. I don't feel nearly as conscious about wearing my glasses.

I still drive fast though - and I'm as impatient as ever. I don't think even with age either of those qualities will change.

My metabolism has changed. I used to be able to put down a whole pizza plus more. Now I generally stop at about 5 slices.

I get ornery easier. I can't stay awake as late as I used to on a regular basis - I find myself falling asleep to the TV more and more (thanks Dad for that gene). I will actually listen to NPR now. And I don't mind Barry Manilow as much as I did when I was little.

What really bugs me (because it fosters that feeling of being old more than anything) is that they now consider 80s msuic - the music I grew up with - as oldies. Turn to an oldies station now and you've got a mix of Bobby Darin, The Supremes, CCR, and Tears for Fears or Rick Springfield. What is up with that?

I'm now my favorite Jimmy Buffet song - "A Pirate Looks At (or will be in five years) 40". I guess that's not a bad thing. Age brings wisdom. One of the few benefits. I do try to impart some here and there when I have the chance. Not that many people probably care what I have to say. If I wore jeans and a black t-shirt all the time and spoke with a British accent, I could be Simon Cowell. Not many people really care what he thinks. Although he's right a lot more than the other judges.

Nobody likes to think of their own mortality. But hopefully I have at least another 35 years of getting older ahead of me.

OK, now I feel tired from writing all of this -- where's the Geritol?

A New Perspective on Theme Parks

When I was little, we used to go to Conneaut Lake Park in western Pennsylvania at least once or twice a summer. CLP just happened to be where my parents met when they were working there for a summer during college. So I'm sure they have lots of fond and interesting memories of it also.

My memories of it usually revolve around the sheer fun of it -- there was so much for kids to do. It was the one place I looked forward to going to each summer. They had rides (although at that point, I was nowhere near the thrill-ride junkie I am not; in fact, I was scared to death of them); they had a petting zoo; they had this place called Fairyland Forest; they had midway games; and they had an arcade.

I did dare to ride a few things like a mini-roller coaster called the Wild Mouse and their version of the Tilt-a-Whirl the last few times I went to CLP. They did have this thing called The Hell Hole that I never did go on though because it just looked ominous and my parents always told me I was too little.

I spent some serious bank in the arcade there. And of course, I'm sure my parents spent more than a fair amount just getting us into the park and for tickets to do everything we wanted to.

We moved to the Carolinas though after my fifth grade year and haven't been back to CLP since. Over the years since then, the park has had alot of financial difficulties, changed ownership a few times, and hasn't been open in over a year. They had a pretty big fire in the old dance hall there last year also. I think that's really sad. It was such a magical place for children.

But now I think I've found my adult equivalent.

During our vacation last week to Gatlinburg/Pigeon Forge, TN, my wife I decided to go to Dollywood. As I have been every other time we've been to the area, I was reluctant to go to Dollywood - period. I have issues with the fact that a lot of entertainment venues seem to like to take advantage of people with high priced foods and souveniers. And I figured Dollywood would not be worth it and would just be another place that sucks hordes of money from its patrons.

So when I paid for our tickets to get into the park my thought was "This better be worth the money I just plunked down."

It ended up being very worth it - and then some. We ended up upgrading our tickets to season passes before the end of our first day there, for a very nominal fee, which can be used for the last few days of 2008 and all of the 2009 season.

I always thought that the shows I saw at Carowinds (outside Charlotte, NC) and Six Flags over Georgia were really dorky. I understand now though that that is how those performers make a living, they truly are talented, and they obviously must enjoy their job to be able to put these performances on four or five times a day, seven days a week, for 9 months at a time. We saw a total of five shows - and each one of them were really awesome - from an adaptation of Babes in Toyland, to an Appalachian bluegrass group performing Christmas carols, to a musical about the birth of Jesus. I came away wishing they had a few more shows to see.

We didn't do a whole lot of rides - just two roller coasters for me, some sort of combination tilt-a-whirl that rocks back and forth that we both rode, and then the carousel. And we did ride the Dollywood Express, an authentic coal-fired locomotive that does a five mile trip through and around the park. We rode it at night so there were few spots where it literally was pitch black as we were winding through the trees outside the park.

What we really enjoyed was going to church service in the park and seeing some demonstrations at some of the specialty shops - like glass blowing, blacksmithing, and carriage building. I really wish I had had my Nikon with me, but I was not about to take something that expensive into Dollywood. I kept telling myself "Oh, that would be such an awesome shot - I wish I had my D40 with me" --- like the gentleman who was painting the glass beads on Christmas decorations, or the one who was putting a wagon wheel together. And some decent pictures of the bald eagles that they have in the park would have been cool too.

So all in all it was very worth it. And I think I've come full circle now on from my favorite childhood amusement park to my favorite adulthood theme park.

Adventures in Vocabulary

In the last three days, I've just happened to stumble into conversations that have resulted in new vocabulary being produced.

Situations like that are fun. They stimulate your thought process.

As a baby, our vocabulary fun comes from trying to replicate the sounds coming out of the mouth of the red-headed guy looming you going , "Say DADDY!"; as a teen it's found coming up with new slang.

Then you become an adult and you just have these random conversations that are really about nothing, but the result of which does make you ponder further things, laugh about them, and then end up blogging about them.

1. Evolution of perception

Some of us were talking at work about how things change as you get older, go through life in the real-world workforce, and deal with adult issues. A co-worker involved in this conversation summed it up with the following, "It's weird. I find myself not giving a crap about things that I really used to when I was younger; and now I'm giving a crap about totally new, more mature things that I never thought would be a big deal to me." At this point another coworker walks by (he hadn't really been actively involved in the conversation, but I guess he was listening to most of it) and says, "It's called evolution of perception. Get used to it."

2. The Bubble Corollary

People live in bubbles. They socialize in bubbles. They establish bubbles no matter where they go, whether they like it or not. Sometimes we don't like to step out of our bubble. With some issues, we refuse to go outside the bubble. We often let the bubble cloud our judgment. Sometimes the bubble moves from the church classroom to the pool. This is called "The Bubble Corollary" This was the discussion we had last night during a gathering of friends from church at a pool party that lasted past midnight. This leads directly into the establishment of the third upcoming phrase.

3. Pruning point

The "Pruning Point", we established last night, is the point when your entire body has been in the water so long that it feels like your skin has become so wrinkled that it will never snap back into shape. But, at the same time, you don't want to get out of the water because you're either having too much fun or because the water is really warm and you don't want to freeze your ass off getting out. It kind of went down like this --- said party was advertised to start at 5. We got there about 6:15. The guys hovered around the man-food table (chips, salsa, pigs-in-a-blanket, brownies) and the girls hovered around the woman-food table (cheese dip, crackers and vegetables) until around 7. Then came pool-time. Mostly just floating or lounging around in the water, chatting, chicken fighting, and five or six rounds of cannonball contests up until around midnight. Then the brakes started to come on after people started realizing they had hit their pruning point and started to depart. Five plus hours of being in the pool will do that.

Lasagna and Longevity

When I pick up the Sunday paper, the first section I start hunting for is the Comics. Right past the A Section, Sports, Classifieds and Lifestyle sections, straight to the Comics. Once there, I hunt for one thing: the Garfield strip.

The very first thing I read in the Sunday newspaper is the Garfield comic strip. I get my daily Garfield fix with my Garfield IGoogle widget -- right there, center stage beside my news feeds on my homepage every day when I first load up my browser.

I'm a Garfield addict. I used to collect the Garfield comic strip compilation books. I kind of got out of that a few years back, but I still have all the ones I did purchase readily accessible so I can thumb through them from time to time. I have all of the main Garfield characters as stuffed animals on a shelf in my office at home.

Today is Garfield's 30th birthday. June 19, 1978 was the day of the first Garfield strip. He's slimmed down since then; but personality-wise he's still pretty much the same.

Garfield and I have grown up together and are a lot alike. Our favorite food is lasagna. We both love to sleep in and both hate Mondays. We both have an affinity for the remote control. We both like to make smart-ass remarks. And we both love junk food.

Garfield's creator, Jim Davis, obviously has an awesome sense of humor. To consistently come up with new material on a weekly or daily basis for 30 years, you have to have a great deal of talent. Jim is up near the top of my list of people I'd like to meet.

I don't quite recall how or when I first got into Garfield, since I was only four when Jim first put the orange ink on the paper to draw the lasagna lovin' cat. I have a feeling my dad turned me on to Garfield.

But I know I've been actively reading Garfield comic strips for at least 25 of the 30 years he's been around. Garfield is one of the constants in my life.

As long as Garfield is published, that will be the first thing I look for in my Sunday newspaper.

So Happy Birthday, Garfield. I hope you're around for another 30 years.

Going Out Into The World

There is a sno-cone stand not too far from our place that my wife and I frequent. I would venture to guess it's one of only a few, if not the only one in our county, as I've never found another one around here. This particular sno-cone stand has been in operation at the same location for 21 years, and opens usually in late April. I think it's family owned.

Right now, it's about six weeks or so into its summer business season and my wife and I have been there at least once a week. The first couple summers we lived in this area, the same girls were there each day, each summer, making the sno cones. This year, there are a couple new girls working there. After about four weeks of us going there this year, finally one day the girl who is there the most says to me, "Same as usual?," before I even get up to the counter.

So we struck up a conversation. I found out her name is Amanda and she'll be going to college this fall at the college that my wife works at. I told her, "Well, my wife and I will be coming by alot this summer so you might as well know our names too," and I told them to her. Friday evening I went by there to get a sno cone and as I made my way up to the window she excitedly says, "I got my diploma yesterday!!" and I congratulated her.

We found out the other day (the idea hadn't really registered with us at any time before now) that the flower girl at our wedding (who was six at the time) is graduating from high school this weekend. She'll be going off to college next year and that is making my wife and I feel really old.

Then there's seven kids at our church that graduated high school this week. We've only been going to our church for about three years, but these kids have been fun to watch mature. Last weekend, we had Senior Sunday and they led both of our services. They're a complete trip -- some are really shy and nervous when speaking, some are comical - and one of them, Patrick, a drummer in our Praise Team who was presented his Eagle Scout award that same Sunday, performed a song that he wrote about what our church means to him. I was really impressed.

Everything with my high school graduation happened so quickly it's really hard to remember all the details of it. Frankly, I wasn't too concerned about anything that day other than getting that diploma in my hands and being totally done with high school. I was ready to move on to college.

I remember my grandparents shouting in excitement as I got my diploma, chuckling under my breath, and really wanting to call my principal something not so nice as I shook his hand. I probably exchanged more words that day with the girl sitting beside me than I had with her our entire time in high school. And one of my best friends was the only one to toss his graduation cap into the air -- all because we had been warned not to by the aforementioned principal.

Having a passing interest in politics at that point, I didn't really give too much thought to the status of the political landscape at that point or my role in the grand scheme of things. Yeah, I could get on a soapbox if I really wanted to ... but I didn't really get into politics really heavy until college.

The world has changed a lot even in the 16 years since I graduated high school. We didn't have cell phones or the Internet; music videos, television shows and movies weren't rampant with sleaze and violence (Ok, we had some); we didn't have presidents having affairs with interns, congressmen having bathroom trysts with members of the same sex, or governors getting it on with call girls (OK, we probably did, but we didn't really know about it); we were playing Zork and had never heard of anything called Grand Theft Auto; we couldn't even imagine someone flying aircraft into skyscrapers and killing thousands of people; Ecstasy? GHB? What's that? - we were just then starting to hear about crack. Kids and families are facing problems and issues now that even in 1992 it would been difficult to imagine, let alone in 1952.

People give the current generation of students alot of crap, saying they're lazy and lack dedication, moral character, and discipline.

It's hard for me to make that type of generalization, or stereotype, if you will, regarding this generation considering my job. I see every day at the college I work at the determination of this generation. There's a few that I just shake my head at sometimes because they're immature idiots, but they're college kids and that's what college kids do.

There are so many factors with every generation that mold each individual and help define their characater, whether good or bad. Yes, there are some bad apples among those individuals, but there's also the shiny apples.

There's a student that just graduated from the college I work at who came from a horrible family situation -- she and many of her 14 siblings were victims of sexual abuse at the hands of their father. The children are now scattered across the state, either in children's homes or foster care. As the oldest, she just became the first of her family to graduate from college. While she was at our college, she was active in more than a dozen activities or groups. And now she's off to another school to complete a Nursing degree.

I do wish all of this year's graduates good luck and success in the future; and I wish for them to develop into strong leaders with a passion for what they do in their careers and their personal lives. They've got a mess on their hands with a broken economy and a country that has lost alot of faith and trust in its leadership at virtually all levels. Hopefully they'll do a better job when they get into those positions than the vast majority of people running this country right now.

The Mind of a 4-Year Old

One of our neighbors, who we don't know really well, has a son that is probably 4-years old, I'm guessing. I'm guessing he's that age based on his vocabulary and height. Really nice kid, always says "hey" when we walk by.

I came home from running some errands today and saw him outside on the sidewalk. He had a little water gun with him. It wasn't a super soaker by any means, this water gun was one of those little tiny ones.

Here's how the conversation went:

Me: That's a neat water gun.
Him: It's not a water gun. It's a toy.
Me: It looks like a water gun.
Him: It's not.
Me: Is it a ray gun?
Him: No. It's a toy.
Me: Well, I think it really looks like a water gun.
Him: It's not. But I want a water gun. Would you buy me one?
Me: Ummm... (thinking here, what can I say that will just totally bewilder him out of a response so I can make it to the house).... I can't. I'm broke.
Him: I'm broke too.
(Crap, now I've got to say something in response)
Me: That's not good, is it?
Him: No, it's not.

Then he sees some other neighborhood kids, picks up his water gun, and runs off to join them.

I guess you never really understand the mind of a 4-year old as an adult. Here's to being 4 again and wanting someone to buy you a water gun.

One of Those Moods

I'm in one of those moods where I can't seem to get into the work groove his morning. I know I shouldn't take time from work to peruse silly stuff on YouTube and read the news of the weird on Fark.... but I'm just in one of those kind of moods.

We spent the weekend doing as little as possible. Being lazy is such a good thing sometimes. And despite the fact I was up until 3 am last night, I still feel pretty rested. There is a lot to be said for being able to sleep in until 10 am two days in a row. Those of you who have kids I know don't get the opportunity but on rare occasions.

So far this morning I have added four tasks on my little Today's To Do notepad that always resides on my desk. I have no intention of doing them until after lunch. I need to get this MySpacing, Blogging, Farking, and YouTubing out of my system. I'm thinking Chik-Fil-A will knock that right out.

I found this on YouTube a little bit ago -- man this brings back some college memories. You can't imagine how much influence Beavis and Butthead had over me and my friends until you see some of our videos (which are held in an undisclosed location and kept under lock and key). Anyway, here's a little Beavis and Butthead to liven up your day.



And if this posting hasn't made a whole lot of sense, I apologize. I'm just in one of those moods.

Are you ready for some football?

It's that time of year again.... When only three colors consume the mind (at least my mind): Orange, White, and Purple.

It's Clemson football time.

Now I'm not going to pretend that I have ever really known alot about football itself. I didn't play it as a child. I really have no clue what most of the rules are. And I can't tell you anything about individual players statistics, past or present, let alone know their numbers.

Two of my best friends in the world, Banks and Rob, can tell you Clemson stats until they are blue in the face. And I admire them for that. That's just not my thing though.

The thing I like about Clemson football is the electricity of it. When you're in a stadium with 80,000 screaming fans, all pulling for the same team, there is nothing like it. From the tailgating, to the hanging out with friends, getting crazy, drowning the misery of defeat or revelling the victory, it is one of the most memorable experiences I have ever had.

In college my friends and I would start off every game weekend on Thursday night with a hearty round of drinks. That would lead to another round; and another round. And by the time Saturday morning came around, we'd drag out of bed to go tailgate with Banks' folks. We were all like their surrogate kids. They'd have food for everyone. and man, it was good. Banks' stepmom makes some wicked good food.

And no matter the win or the loss, we would always cap the game off with another round of drinks... and another... and another.

The whole game weekend experience was a series of foolishness, debauchery, and insanity the levels of which I cannot describe. In one particular instance that stands out in my mind thoug, on a Saturday in the pre-dawn hours, my friends and I strung a banner on the front of our dorm that read "God Has a Hard On for Tigers." By the time we rolled out of bed later that morning, it was torn down. Looking back, it was immature and I'm rather embarassed of it from a religious standpoint, but at the time it was ridiculously funny and still makes me chuckle.

Now that I'm older, I still love Clemson football. I love making snide comments about USC football. I love that instantaneous comradery that is established the moment you meet another Clemson fan or alum. We all have a very special bond and it's one of those things that we cherish.

But back on the being older train, the whole ceremony of the Clemson game, at least for me, has changed forms to a much tamer aspect. My wife and I have spent the weekend planning out a menu for a get together we're having at our place with a couple that we are great friends with.

The evening will consist of nibbling at the various appetizers my wife will have put together and not let me cook because she just doesn't like the way I do things in the kitchen and watching the game from the comfort of the sofa, floor, or chair, or whatever horizontal surface we decide to sit on. There will be some adult beverages involved... but nowhere near to the extent of which we used to consume.

The last time I drank too much, I blew out blood vessels in both eyes later that night from puking. I don't plan on doing that anytime soon. My drinking habits and tolerance have definitely changed since I was a foolish, young college student. Not that from time to time, I'm not a foolish, thirty-something, but that will be a topic to discuss in a later post.....

But now it's time to bring on the football -- and kick some Seminole ass. Go Tigers!