You Light Up My Life (or I Like Golf…Don’t Judge Me!)

Last weekend The Wife and I (and the In-Laws) attended a conference held by our friends at Impact Ministries in Huntsville.  Last weekend also happened to be the British Open (or as golf snobs and British people call it “The Open Championship”).  Church and golf.  Golf and church. 

Church OR golf.  Golf OR church.

We have a dilemma.  More specifically, I have a dilemma.

Thanks to smart phones, we were able to keep up with scores in between conference sessions

(ok…”during” conference sessions, too).  One of us would pull up the current scores on our phone and discreetly (ok…not so discreetly) show the screen to the others.  As players moved up and down the leader board we would react with everything from the “raise-your-eyebrows-surprise look” to slightly muffled “wows”.  When Phil Mickelson pulled within a stroke of the lead on the back nine, you might have thought we got the Holy Ghost.

It was at that point, that I left.  It was with The Wife’s blessing (see how awesome she is) but I left church to go find a bar at 10:30 in the morning to watch golf.  Don’t judge me.  It’s a major championship.

So, I sat alone at a bar with every TV in the place set to the British Open.  Phil had one of the best final rounds in major championship history and won the Open by 3 strokes.  I had plenty of time to make it back to the church before the service was even over.

The lobby of the church was off to the side of the auditorium and I stood there listening in as the service wrapped up.  As I looked through the crowd, my eye was immediately captured by The Wife.   

If you’ve ever seen The Blues Brothers, you’ll remember the scene where Jake and Elwood are at church.  James Brown is the preacher and asks the congregation “Do you see the light?”.  Jake does see the light and he glows in a light descending from Heaven.

That’s what it’s like when I see The Wife.  (I can’t think of anything else

that she might have in common with Jake Blues other than that, though.  She doesn’t have her letters of her name tattooed on her fingers.  She doesn’t eat four fried chickens and a Coke for lunch.  She’s never even sung at Bob’s Country Bunker).  Wherever she may be and whatever the setting or circumstance, the sight of her grasps my attention and my heart even more now than it did when we first met.  Congratulations to Phil, but I’m a major winner, too.

How I Proposed To Your Mother

Hello, Darlin.  Nice to see you.  Its been a long time.

Yes, it’s been a long time since I’ve posted a blog here.  I have not been dead, divorced, abducted by aliens, out of the closet or in a coma.  As George (and Frank) Costanza famously said: “I’m back, baby.  I’m back”.

You may have seen the show “How I Met Your Mother”.  It is the seemingly endless tale that a dad shares with his kids about how he, in fact, met their mom.  When you watch individual episodes of the show, it is pretty strong comedy.  The story arcs are a labor to endure, however.  How long does it really take to tell how you met your wife? (Apparently nine years).  At any rate, this is the story of how I proposed to The Wife.  I promise it won’t take nine years, but it will take longer than it probably should.

Twenty-four years ago this month I proposed to The Wife. A couple of weeks ago, we happened to revisit the site of that proposal.  It was in the gazebo in the Opryland Hotel conservatory.  As we sat there together, I had to think about that moment nearly a quarter century ago and how I got that one right.  And I had to think what if that moment never happened?  What if at some point in my life or hers something bumped just enough in the time line that kept that proposal from happening?

What if…I’d been born in Alabama?  On the plus side, I’d have lots of National Championship t-shirts (that I made in my garage and tried to sell out of the trunk of my Pontiac Fiero).  On the negative side, I’d have a wife named Lurlene who screamed “Roll Tide” at inappropriate times of intimacy.  I’d also have a three-legged dog named “Bear”.  (Let the death threats from Tuscaloosa begin in 3….2…1).

What if…I’d gone to umpire school?  In college, I thought if I didn’t meet someone before I graduated I might go to Florida and enroll in an umpire school.  I could be ringing up Alex Rodriguez in a Triple A game this week!

What if…(and these next two are real…and spectacular) her dad had not changed jobs during The Wife’s senior year of high school?  Prior to that, she was planning on going to college in Tulsa.  When her family moved, she decided to stay at home and go to school at Tennessee Tech.

What if…one of us didn’t know Amy Taylor?  You see, Amy introduced us in an Economics class at Tech.  Without Amy’s introduction, I doubt my amazing grades in Econ 201 would have been enough to make The Wife think: “This nerdy guy who keeps staring at my boobs gets awesome test scores in this boring class.  I would really like to meet him”.

Fortunately for me all the things in history properly clicked and lead us to that moment in the gazebo.  So, with history on my side, let me tell you, children, how I proposed to your mother. 

I was working in Chattanooga and The Wife and her family were in Cookeville (if you don’t know where those places are, consult a globe).  I had just started a job out of college and the training class I was in was getting out early on Friday.  I jumped in the T-bird and headed to Cookeville.  Not to see The Wife, but to see the man who would become The Father-in-Law.  I went to his office and asked his receptionist if I could see him.  I waited in the lobby for what seemed like hours.  It could have been ten minutes or it could have actually been hours.  I was too nervous to think to look at my watch or even remember how to tell time, for that matter.  If you want to break a terrorist, make them wait to ask a father if he can marry his daughter.  Water-boarding will become obsolete.

I don’t remember a lot about when I finally got in to see him.  Before I got to say anything, I think he

tried to sell me some life insurance.  That wasn’t too odd since he ran a successful insurance agency.  The fact that he wanted me to list him as the beneficiary and asked me if I liked to hunt?…that seemed odd.  What I do remember about that conversation was some awkward staring at inanimate objects and watery eyes for both of us (dang allergies).  Most importantly, he gave his blessing.

On a side note, I have the best in-laws possible.  My family and The Wife’s family not only get along with each other, they love each other.  I know a lot of people aren’t this blessed, but I am so thankful for this.  The Mother-in-Law always greets me as her “favorite son-in-law”.  Which when she started that 24 years ago was funny, because she thought with two other daughters that by now she would be referring to me as her “third-favorite son-in-law”.  The Wife’s sisters and brother are not married yet.  So, if you are looking to marry into a great family, leave a personal history and photo in the comments section of this blog.  I’ll try to hook you up.

The Wife

On Saturday, The Wife and I went to Nashville and after dinner walked through the Conservatory.  When we reached the gazebo we sat on the bench.   After a few deep breaths and some mostly-successful efforts to not pee myself, I got down on one knee in front of The Wife.  Later I would learn that she had no clue what was going on and was thinking “what are you doing?  Get up.  People are walking by!”.  Before she could say anything, I asked her to marry me.  She said “yes”.  At least I think she said “yes”.  She might have said “I’m not going to pay a lot for this muffler”.  What I heard was “yes”.  And that’s made all the difference.

One day, I’ll share “How I Courted Your Mother”.  This could also be titled “How To Wear A Woman Down Into Finally Conceding To Date You”.  But that is for another day.

It's Oscar Night...Time for The Wifey Awards

Welcome to the Third Annual Wifey Awards.  These awards are given to movies I saw with The Wife this year.   You can find the first and second versions of The Wifey's by following the links.  New this year are movie clips from each category, plus a list of websites and links every movie buff should use.  So as you stroll down the red carpet tonight, tell Ryan Seacrest who you are wearing (I’m wearing Russell Athletic, Ryan).  It's time to enjoy the awards…without the incoherent acceptance speeches.

Category: Give It a Rest

• Marvel/Avenger Series: Since the first Iron Man, we’ve seen more movies in this Avenger series than Robert Downey, Jr. has visits to rehab.
• Twilight: Can we get Abe Lincoln to rid us of this vampire menace?
• Liam Neeson: With all the movies this guy has made lately, how are we all not already dead by his hand?  He was even on ESPN...as you'll see in the first minute of this clip it didn't go well.
• John Goodman: The only thing he hasn’t been in is The Big Bang Theory. However, the rest of the Rosanne cast has made up for this missing piece to his filmography.
• And The Wifey goes to…Twilight.  The last year we were not subjected to a Twilight movie was 2007.  That’s before Obama was President.  See what all this “hope and change” has brought us?

Category: Best Movie You Probably Didn’t See

• Bernie: A quirky movie with Jack Black in his best acting performance ever…really his only acting performance ever.
• Seeking a Friend for the End of the World: A quirky movie with Steve Carrel about what happens in his life when an asteroid is headed towards earth.  It’s like the story is torn from last week’s headlines. (Clip).
• Moonrise Kingdom: A quirky movie.  A very, very quirky movie.  So quirky, I’m not really sure what it’s about.
• And The Wifey goes to…Seeking a Friend.  While The Office launched Carrel’s career (that’s fun to say: “Carrel’s career”) it causes him to be underrated as an actor.  While this isn’t his best role, it is still a movie worth seeing.

Category: Best Portrayal of a Dysfunctional Personality

• Denzel Washington as Whip Whitaker (Flight) - addicted to addictions.  He hit the trifecta: drugs, booze and women.  Denzel showed again in this role why he’s one of the best actors of this generation.
•  Bradley Cooper as Pat Solitano (Silver Linings Playbook) - bipolar.  Bipolar is more than just dysfunction for sure.  Cooper did a tremendous job portraying the battles with mental illness of Solitano.  It's hard to believe he started out as the nerdy friend in Alias.
• Mark Ruffalo as The Hulk (Marvel’s The Avengers) - gamma ray disorder.  He turns green, has a nasty temper and has more wardrobe malfunctions than Janet Jackson.
• And The Wifey Goes to…The Hulk.  You want to tell him he didn’t win?

Category: Best Movie Scene

• Flight - The hotel refrigerator scene.  If you didn’t see the movie this won’t make sense, but if you did you won’t forget it.  Expertly acted and directed scene.
• Argo – Airport escape. Extremely tense climax scene as “The Six” tries to get on a flight home.  You think getting through airport security is tough here, try getting past the Iranians.
• Silver Linings Playbook – Dance contest. The dancing was not very good, but it was just good enough.  Plus Jennifer Lawrence looked amazing.  Now I see why my 14-year old son is always saying “Jennifer Lawrence is hot”.  (Click here for clip of the scene).
• And The Wifey Goest to…Silver Linings Playbook.  I really couldn’t decide so I used “eenie-meenie-minie-mo”. 

Category: Best Bad Guy

• Bane – Dark Knight Rises: A much better foe to Batman than The Riddler or Mr. Freeze. (clip)
• Osama bin Laden – Zero Dark Thirty: He finally meets his end at the hands of the Navy Seals.
• Woody Allen – To Rome With Love: He’s not a bad guy, but he deserves a “villain” label for making this stinker of a movie.
• And The Wifey Goes to…Bane.  I’m not giving an award for anything to bin Laden and the total flop of To Rome at the box office was punishment enough for Woody.

Category: Best Movie

• Dark Knight Rises: Probably the best super hero movie of all time.  The story, direction and acting in DKR were all nearly perfect.
• Argo: The story was fascinating and it was told well by Ben Affleck.  A great ensemble cast and a soundtrack full of great music from the late 70s sure didn’t hurt. (Clip)
• Flight: One of the things that confirms how well done this movie was is how difficult parts of it were to watch.  The struggle of addiction as portrayed in Flight was quite powerful.
• And The Wifey Goes to…Argo.  It is a unique, but true, story that, while very intense, was still entertaining from beginning to end.  Affleck’s come a long way since Gigli or Daredevil. 

The Wife and I will continue to be on the lookout for the best movies of 2013.  I’m looking for something co-starring Liam Neeson and John Goodman.  Hopefully it won’t involve a vampire or be directed by Woody Allen.

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Some helpful movie websites and apps:

• IMDB - Info on every movie and TV show as well as filmography of actors, directors, etc.
• Fandango – Need to know what is playing where and when…use this site.
• Common Sense Media – Family reviews of movies that gives details on violent, sexual and language content.
• Run Pee – an app that tells you the best time to take a bathroom break during the movie

Adventures in Lingerie Shopping

What most guys know about lingerie shopping you can fit into an A-cup.  For the unlearned dudes out there, an “A-cup” is the smaller size…think “Kate Hudson”.  Buying lingerie for The Wife can be like your kid buying you a tie for Father’s Day.  It may get worn once out of a sense of obligation and then it’s buried in a drawer or given to the church clothing drive never to be seen again.  However, the appropriateness of donating a lace teddy to your church will vary depending upon your denomination.

You hope that the lingerie gift is well received because that stuff is not always easy for a guy to buy in the first place.  Let’s say you order by mail.  If the package is delivered to your house, then The Wife may get the box before you do.  At best, the surprise is ruined or, at worst, she hides the box in a place you’ll never find it (like the laundry room) and your package is forever deemed to have been “lost in the mail”.  You may have equal or worse results if the package is sent to your office.  Imagine this page over the intercom: “Will Mr. Hot To Trot pick up his Frederick’s of Hollywood package at the front desk on his way to see Human Resources?”.

Shopping in the stores creates its own level of anxiety.  I believe sales clerks at Victoria’s Secret get paid bonuses if they embarrass male shoppers to the point of tears. This doesn’t make sense to me since men should be easy targets to “up-sell” (not a euphemism for anything).  When I visit the auto mechanic, they can pop the hood and start pointing at belts and clips and straps and tell me what I need to buy and I don’t know any better than to just buy it.  The same is true in the lingerie shoppe (note the fancy spelling of the word “shop”).  The sales girl can just start pointing at belts and clips and straps and tell me what I need to buy and I don’t know any better but to buy it. 

Before a guy decides to enter Victoria’s Secret he’s already made a few reconnaissance “fly bys” (while singing “Danger Zone” in his head) to be sure he doesn’t recognize anybody in the store.  He has also developed a plan of attack to acquire the target and retreat to home base.  Unfortunately, he gives up on that plan as quickly as the French army…well, gives up.  He walks in to the store and when faced with live bullets (or bustiers in this case) he forgets his training and panics.  Of course there are no sales clerks to help our shell-shocked warrior as he stumbles aimlessly through the store.  An hour later mall security escorts him from the premises after he’s been elbow deep in a stack of panties trying to figure out the difference between a “high-cut brief” and a “bikini”.  War is hell.   Trying to buy “something special” for “someone special” shouldn’t be. 

Finally now, a true “Adventures in Lingerie Shopping” story:

One day a few years ago I decided to buy the wife a nightgown. Nothing  risqué.  Strictly classy.  Honest.  I was wandering through the lingerie section of a department store when I heard a voice say: “Can I help you?”. 

Here’s where I have to help you use your imagination and ask you to believe I’m not being a racist in the way I tell this story (It’s just funnier this way).  The offer for help came from a four-foot-something Asian sales clerk.  To say English was her second language would probably be generous.  So, what she said was “Can I help you?”.  What I heard was: “Khan I hep yew?”.

I told her what I was looking for and she asked in a voice much bigger than her stature:”It for your whife or for gurrrrrl-fren?”  and then she erupted with an almost maniacal laugh (think Ozzy at the beginning of “Crazy Train”).  I was frightened. People from the lingerie department to the Orange Julius must have heard her.  I told her it was for The Wife and then I walked to a different section of the department to look on my own, hoping that Jackie Chan’s creepy little mom would forget about me.

A few minutes later she appears holding a hanger as high as she can over her tiny little head.  On this hangar is some style of lingerie that I could not identify.  It had clasps and straps and snaps and I think it even had a bottle opener.   She presents it for approval by bellowing: “What you tink of dis wahn?  It vaaaary saxxxy!  It vaaaary daaaaaangerous!”. 

To say this wasn’t going well would be like saying the “Boom Goes the Dynamite” guy had an off night.  So, I gave up on that idea, but would not go home empty handed.  I found the cookie shop in the mall and brought home a snickerdoodle for The Wife (also not a euphemism for anything).  I’m pretty sure she would like the cookie more anyway.

Happy Valentine’s Day.  Shop at your own risk.  When in doubt, buy a cookie.

Do You Trust Me?

Disney’s Alladin was released in 1992.  Let that sink in for a minute.  1992.  Nineteen-freakin-ninety-two.  Now go take your Geritol, clap off your lights and go to bed. 

Despite feeling like a geezer when I think about Alladin, it is one of my favorite Disney movies.  One of the most critical scenes is where Alladin asks Jasmin “do you trust me?” (this actually happens twice in the movie).  God asks us that same question every day “Do you trust me?”.

I was thinking about this as our boys (one a freshman in college, the other a freshman in high school) were headed back to school after Christmas break.  And I was thinking about it in context with this verse:

9 If your child asks for bread, do you trick him with sawdust? 10 If he asks for fish, do you scare him with a live snake on his plate? 11 As bad as you are, you wouldn't think of such a thing. You're at least decent to your own children. So don't you think the God who conceived you in love will be even better?  Matthew 7:9-11 (The Message Bible)

This is important to consider from the perspective that The Wife and I have as well as from the perspective of our children. 

As parents, we want to protect, comfort and provide for our children.  Unless you’re auditioning for some sick reality TV show, you probably want the same for your kids.  For their entire lives we have tried to shield them, encourage them, instruct them and provide for them the best we know how.  These things are less and less in our control (or what we perceive to be control) now and will only continue to trend that direction over time.  As a parent, that is an uncomfortable feeling to which God says: “Do you trust me?”.Do you trust that God loves them more than you love them?

For our boys, when it comes to their mother and me, I hope they are certain that above all else they are loved.  That we give them bread and not sawdust.  That we give them fish and not a snake.  That we give them roller blades and not razor blades (Scratch that last one.  It’s a bad Christmas story.).  They are now taking more and more ownership of their relationship with God and developing their own answer to His question: “Do you trust me?”.  Do you trust that God loves you even more than your parents love you?  Do you trust Him to give you wisdom?  Do you trust Him to be your provider?  Do you trust Him to be your comfort and your protector?

While it is a challenge to loosen our grip on that perceived control, it is fulfilling to see relationships change.  Part of that is seeing how our relationships with the boys change as they grow and mature.  But part of it is how each of our relationships with God changes as part of this process.  A process where we all seek to discover the grace to trust Him more.

How I Very Nearly Ruined Christmas

Each year I usually settle in closer to “Santa Claus” than “The Grinch” on the Scale of Christmas Icons.  In fact, one Christmas I actually BECAME Santa Claus…but that’s another story for another day.  This Christmas I would have been better off attempting a break-in at Nakatomi Plaza or maybe even replacing Christmas altogether with Festivus (there were, actually, some “airing of the grievances” in this Christmas story). The Christmas I want to share with you now may lead you to believe that my heart had even shrunk two sizes too small.

It all started back in 1998.  My son, The Tall One (although both sons are quite tall now, so let’s call him “The Taller One”). 

Take two:  It all started back in 1998.  My son, The Taller One, was four years old and a big fan of hockey’s newest team, the Nashville Predators.  The number one thing on his Christmas list that year was a Predators’ sweater (or as he called it “a Predators’ shirt”).  The second thing on his list was a pair of roller blades.  For a young, southern boy who had only been to (or even seen) one hockey game (the Predators franchise opener) it was a pretty big deal that hockey had vaulted to the top of his Christmas list. 

For months, when asked what he wanted for Christmas, The Taller One’s answer was consistent: “A Predators shirt and roller blades”.  I, ever the clever one, would tell him that “I’d just got off the phone with Santa.  He’s got your Predators SKIRT and RAZOR blades in his sack and ready to bring to you this Christmas”.  The four year old failed to find the humor in this and would quickly correct me: “Dad!  It’s a Predators SHIRT and ROLLER blades!”, and demand I get back in touch with Santa and make sure he got it right.

We were at The In-Laws for Christmas and when the morning of the 25^th finally arrived I had some gift-giving comedy in store for all of us.  Imagine a bright-eyed, hockey-loving, four-year-old boy hurrying down the stairs to the Christmas tree.  He’s greeted by his father who hands him a small, brightly-wrapped package.  When you’re four and you’re handed a gift to unwrap, you don’t ask questions.  You start ripping paper.  What The Taller One finds is, you guessed it, a box of razor blades.  He says: “Dad, you’re so funny” and gives me a big hug.  The rest of the family has a grand laugh to start Christmas day and Frosty the Snowman peers in through the living room window and gives us all a tip of his hat and a wink.  Dad of the Year! The End.

Unfortunately, there was a fly in the ointment…a monkey in the wrench…to my happy Christmas ending.  When The Taller One opens the package and sees the razor blades he does not laugh, smile or giggle.  Not even close.  First, his chin sinks to his chest.  Then, as it occurs to him that “if these are razor blades then somewhere under that tree there is also a skirt for me”, he crumbles to the floor in disappointment.  Tears begin to flow.  I’m a dead man.

The Wife and The Mother-in-Law are ready to demonstrate “Feats of Strength” by bashing my skull with the first heavy object they can find.  I gather the boy up in my arms and help him find the Predators shirt and roller blades under the tree.  For the boy, the crushing sadness gives way to joy.  For me, my day didn’t turn around that quickly.  The Wife and The Mother-in-Law are plotting my destruction throughout the day.  When I see them smile, I worry because that means they have not only thought up a maniacal way to end my existence, but they’ve concocted an air-tight alibi, too.

Through constant apologies and taking great care before I ate or drank anything, I managed to survive the day.  However, every year I am reminded by The Wife or the Mother-in-Law or even The Taller One of the year I very nearly ruined Christmas.  You know, every time a Bruce Willis movie comes out, nobody reminds him about being in “Look Who’s Talking Too”. 

Here’s wishing you and yours a Yippee-ki-yay, Merry Christmas.

What Does My Marriage Have in Common with Michael Jordan?

Question: What does my marriage have in common with Michael Jordan, Ryne Sandberg, David Beckham, The Lord is my shepherd, and a bad Jim Carrey movie (OK, that reference is a bit too vague)?  Answer: The number 23.

Today, The Wife and I celebrate our 23^rd wedding anniversary.  This week as she’s talked about our 23 years (and I’ve stared intently at her hoping not to detect signs of crushing disappointment) she’s mentioned that she doesn’t remember what it’s like to NOT be married.  I believe she meant that as a good thing.  I took it that way at least, and I have to agree.

There are some of you who will also know what we mean by that.  There has been so much living and so much sharing that your lives have become thoroughly intertwined (kind of like those tangled I-phone ear buds sitting on your night stand…but in a good way).  You likely don’t own anything of substance that you had before you were married.  And there isn’t anything about your life before you were married that you have any desire to go back to (OK, I’d like to get at least close to being as thin as I was when we were married).

To remember what life was 23 years ago, you’d have to remember having a cassette player in your car where you would have played the debut albums of DC Talk, Nirvana and The Wiggles (who would have thought that the only one of those three to still be around would be The Wiggles…God help us all).

You would have to remember the premier episodes of Seinfeld, Bay Watch and The Simpsons.  You would have been able to watch what should have been the last films in the Indiana Jones, Lethal Weapon and Back to the Future series (unfortunately, that was not the case).

You would have to remember what it was like to hear for the first time “You’ve got mail”.  You would also have to know what it means to be “a very good driver in the driveway”.

Twenty three years ago the national debt only circled the globe a time or two and you could get a gallon of gas for a little over a buck.  Twenty three years ago not only did twelve year olds not have cell phones, but nobody had cell phones.  Twenty three years ago you could wear a blue jean jacket and aviator sunglasses (at night).

Oh yeah, twenty three years ago you could buy a Twinkie.

A lot has changed over the last 23 years.  We’ve seen two sons born and one of them start college.  We’ve moved between seven and nine times, depending on how you count it.  We’ve had times that take your breath away and times when we just hold our breath as we pray to get through it.  Put it all together and there isn’t a relationship in the world that I would trade this one for and that will never change. I love you, honey.  And girl…you know it’s true.