ALS Walk

This morning I went on the Walk to defeat ALS. ALS is Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, commonly known as Lou Gehrig's Disease. It's a good cause, but it goes much deeper than that for me.

In 1996/97 I was newly divorced, deeply depressed, and looking for any kind of meaning or hope in my life. I was attending a local church and struggling with it: not making many friends, not really progressing, and basically going through the motions. I eventually drifted into the church choir, where at least I felt useful. There was a gentleman in the choir named Phil. Phil was a retired military man, a decently talented singer, gregarious, and well liked. I, of course, was irresponsible, morose, difficult, and on the upside, also a decently talented singer.

I was not really progressing, going to church, but not really understanding this whole God thing, I was waiting, but nothing seemed to be happening, I wasn't changing, church was just an event that happened every Sunday. So new to the experience was I, that I couldn't really grasp what was occurring. I did the same things everyone else did, but, meh.

One particular Sunday was different. Church was going along as usual, reading this, liturgy that, and "now you can off each other a sign of peace". I went about my way gladhanding "Peace be with you, peace be with you, peace blah blah blah..." I made my way around to fifteen or so people and got to Phil, I shook his hand and said "peace be with you", I heard some sort of response, and I turned to make my way to the next person. What happened next could not have lasted five seconds total, but has occupied my mind probably more than any other event in my adult life.

I failed to go anywhere.

I contemplated this for a short second and discovered that Phil had not yet let go of my hand. I looked at my hand and heard him say the words again "...peace be with you." I was genuinely confused by this point, I made eye contact. He said it again, softer "Peace. Be. With you." It wasn't four words of well wishing, it was a command, an imperative, a brand new lifestyle.

I know that at that point Phil let go of my hand. I have no recollection of what I did next. I suspect I continued on with church, too overwhelmed to do anything different. You can call it an epiphany. You can call it anything you want. Phil had allowed himself to be the voice of God, a command had been given to me, so powerful, so loving, that what could I possibly do but obey? Peace had come to me.

It was not long after this happened that Phil was diagnosed with ALS. I found out through the choir. One Sunday after church we talked about why Phil had been absent recently, what the expectations were, and what the disease was like. It did not seem fair to me that a man of such dignity should befall such a fate, but Phil was there when he could be, his attitude, and his love for God never wavered. What was this I wondered? I wanted to more of this God that Phil loved so fiercely.

There came a day when it became obvious that Phil would no longer be able to be in the choir, or even come to church, in fact, he would be dying soon. I sat with him after church that day, and I held his hand, all the barriers were gone. I told him how I loved him and how he made a difference, and suddenly my mind formed a thought so daring, so bold, that it came out before I stopped myself from saying it.

I asked him "Phil, when you get to Heaven, please tell God to forgive me for all the things I have done."

Through his own tears Phil said He already has."

I know I saw Phil three more times before he died, and then he went home. The seven words that I am quoting here from Phil remain the way that I know God. Phil remains the person I look to when I want to review in my head what it is like to live a life of Christian love. Thank you Phil, I hope someday to be God's presence to someone in the way you were for me.

...and Jesus said to them "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind. This is the greatest commandment, and the second is like it, you shall love your neighbor as you love yourself. On these two commandments depend all the law and the prophets." Matt 22: 37-40

Camping

When I was a child, our family owned a pop up camper, and from 1971 to 1981 we went camping quite a bit. For at least one summer, maybe more, we had the camper up at a nearby campground for several weeks, if not the whole season. I remember the name of the place being "Potawatomi Lake", in Branch County, Michigan. Most of the rest of our camping excursions were all over the upper midwest.

(As I am writing this, I am remembering stories from camping and laughing.) As I said, we had the pop up camper, and a very organized father; from the moment that the car shut off from parking the camper into it's spot, we could have the camper set up, car unhooked and unloaded, and campsite set up in seven minutes. I tell you seven minutes not because I am prone to exaggeration, but because my father timed it. Everyone had a job to do, and we all did our jobs and cooperated, because we weren't allowed to play until the campsite was set up.

Although I still own a sleeping bag, my adult camping experiences have been less than enjoyable ... until this weekend!

105F heat? No matter, jump in the lake for three hours.


Fortunately, I'm used to this kind of look.


A little monkey in the middle (is this politically correct?) played with two monkies and three squishy balls is a fun time waster.


Recent evidence suggests I cannot be beat at this game!


What's a camping adventure without too much food?





There were plenty of photo ops.


Speaking of photo ops, I avoided this conversation because I thought it could only lead to a lightened wallet.


Of course the evening ended around the fire with marshmallows, duh.

There was a gorgeous moon after the cameras got put away, and we stayed up just past 0100. When we went to bed, there was no mention in the forecast about rain, but I awoke at 0500, and as I sat and listened to the owls, crickets, and frogs, I saw the kind of clouds through the moonroof of my car ... er ... camper, and I decided to head home. I was right, there were storms.

All my pictures are here, Matt's are here, Jenny put some up on Facebook, here, and we're all waiting on Sarah's still, but they will be on her Flickr, here (maybe).

Que Sarah Sarah

I'm sure many of you have noticed that Sarah disappeared off of the "My Information" box on the side. She broke up with me. I am more than a little disappointed by this one, but not that confused, it was obvious she did not think it was going to work. I am quite saddened, because I put a lot of eggs into my emotional basket on this one, and I think it was probably my last chance to have a traditional marriage ... those eggs are broken now.

It's a lot easier to make lemonade out of bruised, unasked for lemons than to make an omelet out of dropped eggs.

I know she was quite disappointed also, so if you have space in her prayer list, please add her in.

She is going to make some man a wonderful wife.

Birthday Weekend

First and foremost, thank you, yes you. I had an amazing birthday weekend, and it was because of the friends that I am fortunate enough to have in my life. So, if you came to an event, wrote on my wall, danced with me, e-mailed or called, or just wished me well, thank you. You all are the reason my life is so wonderful.

Second of all, I over did it. I am old now, I need to plan in a little time for a nap.

I have no reason to believe anyone actually reads what I write here, it is after all my blog, it is about me. It is self-indulgent. I know plenty of people with self-esteem issues, I’m one of them … only instead of low self-esteem, I battle high self-esteem, self importance, and general me centric thinking. It is a constant struggle, with my own ego, to keep me from making everything about me. So after a weekend of birthday partying, I walked into work on Monday morning and read about this unexpected quote: when Arizona Cardinals linebacker Michael Young was asked at the baseball all star game what he would say if he met President Obama there, he answered that he would ask him “How can I help?”

My thoughts on perspective and alcohol are about the same, I’m always ready for a shot. It immediately made me (re)consider President Kennedy’s quote “Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.” The feeling isn’t so much about country as it is about my readiness to serve. I have been praying lately to have something to do of God’s making. Some of you may remember the last time I decided that I needed some work to do. If the question I ask is “how can I help?” I pray that my answer will be “Here I am (Lord)” when I am called.

Now, on to the weekend, it started on Wednesday evening after work with a trip to Blue Sushi downtown. Sarah, Maeg, and I met up downtown and headed upstairs. Ben (yes, but which one?) met up with us, and then we enjoyed a seemingly endless number of plates of sushi, a surprise visit from Becca, a strange malady which caused normally intelligent people to not be able to count (the number of martini’s I drank), and the oddest surprise of all, Ted & Wally’s had three good flavors.

I tried some new sushi, it is on the left of the picture, I think it was called spicy tuna, and although it was good, it wasn’t spicy.


Never mind the highly attractive people at the foreground table, check out the guy in the background, he wins!


Check it out, “French Vanilla Malted”, “Amaretto”, and “Cherry Pie”. Who knew?

I have a couple more pictures here, as does Maeg here. Becca made friends with some of Omaha’s finest right before the party broke up, I’m not saying that these were related events, I’m just saying.

I woke up on my birthday and was greeting with a present from Danny, who “made” me some banana bread. Danny was quite happy to give me a present, until it turned out it was “his” bread and he wanted to open it … two year olds! I then headed off to that scourge of all birthdays, work (boo!), but my coworkers made it all worthwhile with cake, food, and unfettered adulation:

After work was the big birthday event, dinner at Harrah’s casino and then gambling with the traditional loss of the money my mother sent me for my birthday. All the hard work I have been doing with portion control was out the window at a buffet. It started out at Stir (the bar), with a “manly” martini, and then we migrated to the buffet to eat our fill. There were a small number presents that were bestowed upon me, including a cow pie Frisbee, lots of chopsticks, an onion storage thing, some Bailey’s and a bottle of Cruzan black cherry rum, and the latest Prairie Cats CD, Fires Below.

It’s a cowpie Frisbee, seriously, I can’t even make that up.


Somebody was pretty excited about chopsticks.

More of my dinner pictures are here, with thanks to whomever was running my camera. Maeg has some too here. We then headed back over to the bar and eventually down to the boat where I failed in my annual quest to lose my mom’s birthday money … I ended up walking out with more cash than I walked in with, weird.

Finally, a zero calorie martini, and we owe it all to Sarah.


Thanks for a great birthday!

I took Friday off of work and decided (in advance) to treat myself to a round of golf, and now I get to treat you to reading about it. I used to golf several times a week, and I was very good. I chose to go to Tara Hills in Papillion because, I’ve golfed the course before, and I knew it would represent less of a challenge than most. This is only the second time I’ve golfed in the past five years and just the first time I’ve even picked up a club since the roller skating incident. Sarah came with me to walk/ride, and as the people who run golf courses like foursomes, we got two new friends to golf with, Al and Lloyd. Al was good, Lloyd much less so.

The first hole started off with a par, but the rest of the front nine was icky at +10 total. The problem was with touch shots, putting, and aiming difficulties. I got things together when I started on the back nine, and hit some really nice shots, including a very nice birdie on #17. I ended up 45-39 for an 84 (par 70). My (perhaps overly ambitious) plan going in was to shoot an 82, +12. Oddly enough, a tougher course might have been a better choice in that I would have played more target golf. I was just +2 on the last six holes, so I could have done much better.

Golf is odd because I get better with age. It’s not just about practice, it’s the ability to use my brain over my brawn that makes my scores improve. I just play smarter (not 100% of the time, but hey). One thing for sure, I still have the golfing bug, I would play every day if I could afford it.

After golfing, Sarah and I headed over to the zoo for a pleasant little afternoon walk.

Okay, just a few seconds longer and I’ll take the perfect picture.


Sarah makes a fine feathered friend.


Who took my charge card?

More pictures here, but the highlight of the trip was the Skyfari trip. I video taped the entire trip, coming in at a “short” 9:31. It’s full of inane jokes, me talking too much, and unsteady camera work. If you would like to waste ten minutes of your life you can never get back, you can see it here

We actually had a short break before the next stop on the tour, dinner at Jazz. It turned out to be just Sarah and I, until Lisa showed up a little later. Lisa brought me a framed photo from our “lemonade” day last fall. The dinner at Jazz was pretty much exactly what was wrong with the whole weekend, too much food. One good thing, or at least entertaining thing, Lisa was the object of the waiter’s affection.

We left and headed over to JNO, now featuring more people in the birthday jam than in the surrounding circle. Sarah and I were exhausted, but somehow had enough energy to make it through the birthday jam and shim sham.

Look who else had a birthday!


I was insanely popular.


I co-led the shim sham, for hopefully the last time.

Robin took the pictures with my camera, thank you, more here. Cliff also took some pictures that can be found here on his SmugMug account. Sarah and I left shortly after the jam and we each headed home for some well deserved rest.

For Saturday I had planned a busy day, but it didn’t exactly go as I had thought it would. The morning meet up was supposed to be at Standing Bear for a walk, but for various reasons, no one showed except me. I took it as a test of my positivity, a lemonade moment. Obviously, a one way walk was out with only one car, but I had my camera, so I walked along the trail and took some shots.

Not the typical size for one of my pictures, but it fits the subject.


Probably my favorite shot from the weekend.


More from the weird seed pod department.

I eventually packed it back in, and headed down to Q’Doba in Papillion for lunch. Surprise! Jessica was there when I got there with some fresh peaches from her yard. Mmmm! She was there for just a few minutes due to having to go meet a client. Sarah showed up and then Frank. We ate outside, which was nice in the shade, a little warm after the sun came out.

After lunch we headed down to minigolf. I picked a place owned by the city of Papillion, Papio Greens, didn’t scout it out, and was sorely disappointed. It wasn’t a minigolf course, it was a dump, quite disappointing. However, we made the best of it. Frank and Joe made it really enjoyable with their sense humor. Sarah won, Joe used a club evidentially made for a three year old, and Frank met his arch nemesis, the windmill.

Frank bows in defeat to the windmill.

Later Saturday night Maeg and I met at Troy and Merinda’s house and played a game of Dread Pirate which was won by me. Then Frank and Joe showed up, and we played a game of Shadows Over Camelot, which was won by the good guys, but not without some consternation. We also managed to squeeze in a little Rock Band.

Sunday was one of the prettiest days I have seen in a long, long time. Sarah and I met and went to church. Frank and Joe went too. The feeding of the multitudes was [insert link] the Gospel. The message I heard loud and clear was that Jesus prayed before and after He fed them … if Jesus could find time to pray, I probably need to also. Sarah pointed out to me that after the multitudes were fed, there were twelve baskets left over, one for each of the apostles, the message being that God will provide for you when you are doing His work. Take either of those thoughts away, they both work.

After church Sarah and I drove out to Wehrspan Lake and staked out a claim on the prettiest picnic spot in the upper Midwest, if not the world. Jenny showed up a little later, and then Maeg, who walked about three miles to get there. The temperature was perfect, the sky was perfect, the scenery was perfect, and I won the round robin game of ladder golf … perfect.

If you were not here, you were some place not as beautiful.


Incoming!!!


The only bug we saw all afternoon.


Sarah was the only one to get the bonus point for this trick.

I got more pictures of the picnic here, and so does Maeg here … and that was it, thank you again.
Thanks to Maeg for picture use.

Excuse Me, I'm Trying to Ruminate Here

Sarah is always looking for deer on our walks, and we came around the corner and spotted one right there, no, I mean right there.