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Archive for October, 2011

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Remember the 70’s? Television was still in it’s adolescence. We did not have VCR’s, DVR’s, or Direct TV. We had 3 to 5 channels, and the TV Guide. When you had a show you really wanted to watch, the anticipation was almost palpable. Then, those fateful words would be heard: “We are temporarily experiencing technical difficulties-please stand by”. Minutes turned to hours, and, you get the picture. Actually, you didn’t get any picture, and therein was the problem.

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I wrote the other day about the value of a good clipboard, especially in the hands of a digital refugee. What about in the presence of a digital Chernobyl?

Little Frau had another doctor appointment last week, this time
with a new specialist. The anticipation
was almost palpable. Then, those fateful words: “I can’t get the computer to connect to the server. The doctor can’t see you till it does.”. Minutes turned to hours, and, you get the picture. Actually, you didn’t get any picture, at least, the doctor didn’t, and therein was the problem.

Anybody got a clipboard we can borrow?

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“This city is going on a diet”. Such were the words of OKC’s mayor a few short years ago, and while I feel like I am in better shape this year than most of those I’ve lived, maybe I need to take his advice.

First, some brief history. When it was first concocted, Dr Pepper advertising touted it’s health benefits. “Drink a Meal” and “enjoy it at 10, 2, and 4” were it’s tag lines.

In my younger days, I took them at their word. I drank about 3 DP’s a day, and it showed in my girth. I topped out slightly above 200, but it carried more like a fluffy 250.

Fast forward to 2011. The times, they are a changin’, and so is Mr Metabolism. While the contribution from better leg muscles is certainly a factor and Mr Fluffy is hiding out, I did not like what I saw from the fitness room scales this morning. 200 has come and gone, yet again.

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So, what to do, what to do? I have not drunk Dr Pepper in years, but I still enjoy the occasional Coke while perusing “The Facebook”. I strayed away from a new mid life friend, “Mr Treadmill”.

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I need to get back on the wagon. I need to read more, as well. Fewer carbs, fewer Cokes, and more Chaucer? Well, maybe not that kind of reading, but I have a stack of good books calling for attention.

So, in the spirit of Dr Pepper’s touted positive benefits, I’m contemplating a 10-2-4 diet. 10 pounds, and 2 to 4 books, hopefully in the same time frame, preferably before 2012 comes and it all comes to an end…

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East meets West: Better versus the best? Such are the musings of the morning, for today we are Living On Tulsa Time.

They say that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. The same could be said of Broken Arrow. Some artists are purists, others are hard core. Some are true to the discipline, others let it all hang out, so to speak.

It is indeed a tale of two cities, OKC and Tulsa metro areas, respectively. Some bands reflect a cross section of their less than ginormous schools; others are the carefully selected few of the masses. Some march to the beat; others move about the staging on the field.

We are proud of our Bulldogs, and our neighbors from the West. Yes, what happens in Broken Arrow stays in Broken Arrow. Sadly, so do the trophies. šŸ˜¦

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…must have Little Frau’s number on their speed dial. Real life inspiration, indeed. You can’t make this stuff up.

The cute:

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And the sad, but true:

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Thank you, DRD, for the morning inspiration…

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Baby we could talk all night
But that ain’t gettin us nowhere
I told you everything I possibly can
There’s nothing left inside of here
And maybe you can cry all night
But that’ll never change the way I feel
The snow is really piling up outside
I wish you wouldn’t make me leave here
I poured it on and I poured it out
I tried to show you just how much I care
I’m tired of words and I’m too hoarse to shout
But you’ve been cold to me so long
I’m crying icicles instead of tears
And all I can do
Is keep on telling you
I want you (I want you)
I need you (I need you)
But-there ain’t no way I’m ever gonna love you
Now don’t be sad (Don’t be sad)
‘Cause two out of three ain’t bad

I acknowledge the danger in opening a post with the lyrical musings of a guy who calls himself “Meatloaf”, but the symbolism in the words and the title seemed to match up all too well with the reason for writing today.

We had a lecture last evening with author David Kinnaman from Barna Group Research about his new book “You Lost Me”, and why so many of the generation labeled as “Mosaics” (basically, young people circa 2011) are leaving their faith. It’s a challenging issue. Are we living a life, as mentors, in such a way that those who follow see, sense, and feel genuine faith and love in our lives, or do we just seem to be “going thru the motions”?

“2 out of 3 ain’t bad”, as a thesis statement for today, was inspired by a chart Kinnaman shared that said 64% of Mosaics believe the Bible is sacred literature. That seems pretty good, until you match it against other demographic data about life choices and societal problems. Even though a much higher percentage of “older folks” (Busters, Boomers, and those tagged as Elders) have supposed higher faith percentages, the life challenges remain. Are we in, or are we out, in terms of living the life?

Now, let’s flip the math around. As reported by the same research, 7 out of 10 Mosaics today are abandoning their faith. 70%. More than 2 out of 3…

That sounds bad, but it hurts even worse when you look at a group like this and ask yourself the question, “which ones?”.

Baby we could talk all night
But that ain’t gettin us nowhere….

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Now, come and listen to my story about the brother of Jeb…

It was 1993, in Texas. The Rangers were owned by none other than George W. Bush, the son of the then recently departed President of the United States, and they had a mediocre record, at best. And the lead rotation pitcher that year? His name was Nolan Ryan. My, how times have changed.

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Tonight, the Rangers are in the World Series. Nolan Ryan owns the team. And George? Why, he went on the become the Governor of Texas, and then the President of these United States.

But, before all of that, he said “howdy” to me. You; Bing; you may say? Why, yes, indeed. Do tell, I can hear you say…

As I said, it was 1993, or maybe even 94. The new Rangers Stadium has just been built, and some friends suggested that we all go take in a game. We did just that, friends and their frau’s alike, and we sat in the hot sunshine of the right field upper deck, sipping Dr Peppers and eating frozen Lemon Chills.

Needless to say, once we were ready to leave early (as the Rangers were losing), I needed to stop off at the boy’s room. Then it happened.

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There is an unwritten but undisputed rule in society that guys allow maximum possible distance whenever possible in the restroom. As I entered the Rangers Stadium facilities that night, I was alone. Then, I had the sudden uncomfortable feeling that I was, in fact not alone. Someone else was in the room, and was standing right next to me. As I cautiously looked to my right, there stood W. He must have had one Lemon Chill too many, as well, and he said “Howdy”. Talk about your campaign first pitch…

Well, that’s my story. I shared a Major League experience with a future world leader, and he probably doesn’t even remember me.

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It was College Football Saturday recently. There were wins, and there were losses. There was business as usual, and there were surprises. By days end, upsets were in abundance.

Early into the day,I heard a bit of Mike Gundy’s prerecorded OSU press conference from earlier in the week. He spoke of building their system, of wins and losses, student athlete buy in, graduation rates, and recently surpassing the .500 level on wins and losses in the history of the program. Things may have seemed bleak in his early days as the head man, but things are rolling for the now mighty Cowboys in Orange.

Things turned out a little differently yesterday for the once top rated Sooners of Crimson and Cream fame. Entering the game as a predestined favorite to win big, they got outworked, out hustled, and downright snookered by the Men in Black, West Texas style. And yet, one bad outing does not a career make, and I don’t hear anyone calling for Bob Stoops to be fired.

As the evening was unravelling for the mighty Sooners, I watched number one son experience disappointment at the final outcome. And yet, as the final gun sounded, he calmly accepted the outcome and moved on. There was a time not so long ago that the house would have long been filled with wails of “how?” and “why?” much later into the early AM, but not this post midnight hour.

The remains of the day got me to thinking about my young’ ens. They are certainly entering mid season. There are wins, and there are losses. There is business as usual, and then there are surprises. Sometimes, there are even upsets. But, the body of work remains a work in progress. Would you fire Stoops over one loss? Would you judge Picasso by only his first piece? If so, the ultimate worth would certainly be underestimated, if not totally ignored.

14 year olds and 44 year olds think alike in very few ways. And yet, one day you see a load of dishes mysteriously done, and neither you nor your Frau touched them or even asked that they be touched. You see frighteningly mature responses to difficult situations. You lose to them at a game, and you were actually trying.

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Proverbs 22:6 says: Direct your children onto the right path, and when they are older, they will not leave it.

Little Frau and I have tried to do just that, and we could not be much prouder of our brood.

There is certainly much more to life than band, basketball, and bonsai(Tokyo style), but each path brings opportunities to learn and grow, and maybe have a little fun along the way.

The whole body of work is certainly yet to be completed by these three, but I think they’re off to a decent start. Stay tuned.

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