what’s in a name

I Run, therefore I am a Runner.

If I practice running, I can be a better Runner. If I don’t practice running, I will be a poor Runner. If I take care of my Runners body, I can run more efficiently. If I loose focus, as a Runner, I can become injured and possibly loose my ability to run.

I can choose how fast to run, how long to run, what direction to run, and how often to run. I can chose not to run as much or to run twice as much. I can run whenever and wherever I choose to (in most cases). How I run is totally up to me…

…but whatever I choose, I remain a Runner.

I was not always a Runner. It didn’t always suit me. There was a time when I choose not to run and didn’t see myself ever aspiring to be called a Runner. Then I made a choice to learn how to run, practice running, and now I actually enjoy running. It didn’t happen overnight, but by definition, when I decided to start doing it…I became a Runner.

how’s your credit score

I have received some very nice accolades, as of late, from my new friends in Blogtopia.

I am not sure if there is etiquette to this award giving thing; so I will error on the side of better judgment by paying forward a few complements and giving credit where credit is due. The under named persons / sites have been a part of my daily routine for quite some time now. Sometimes I read and enjoy, sometimes I read and think, and sometimes I read and ignore. The important thing, to me, is that I always read.

I look forward to each of them for different reasons. The comments that I leave for them are sometimes value added statements (in my opinion), and other times they are just nonsense; attempting to be humorous. Sometimes I reply to try to be a blessing; and other times I reply just to let them know that I came to visit. So without further delay, I present to you, some of my newest friends:

PS: I made the awards myself…that’s how much I care…

sexual chocolate

For this experiment, you will need:

٠ (1) 8 to 10 oz glass with a wide mouth ٠ (1) Teaspoon٠ Your favorite percentage of milk 

٠ (4-6) Oreo Cookies (non-refrigerated) ٠ (1) napkin

First take out your Oreos and stack them one over the other anywhere on the napkin and on your kitchen, dining, or coffee table. Place the spoon so that the belly of the utensil is also on the napkin. (This is to insure that any and all residue that may have been mistakenly left behind from your child’s last eating experience does not interfere with your quest for ecstasy.) Then get your glass and go to the fridge. (Glass first so that you do not waste the precious time that your milk spends out of the refrigerator). Fill it with milk leaving anywhere from ½ to 1 full inch before the rim. Walk briskly, with milk in hand to your prepared Oreo stack and sit down with authority. Can you feel the excitement building in your loins?

Now, take the top Oreo between your thumb and index finger and submerse vertically just past its equator. Count, internally, to 4. (Don’t ask…just do it) Then release the cookie so that it floats in the milk like the last moments of the Titanic before it plunges into the sea. It will sink in its position, and when it disappears into the milk, grab the spoon and scoop it out.

drawing conclusions

My father didn’t tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it.
—Clarence Budinton Kelland

One of our more recent trips as, as a family, was to one of the Orlando Florida theme parks.

We usually are very careful of what we spend our money on. We try to stick to the essentials. Churros, soda products, smoothie bars, candy, stupid hats that will never be used again, adult beverages, figurines, stuffed animals, ponchos, fake tattoos, and dip-n-dots. (This list is not all inclusive, but is an excellent indication that even a Floridian can fall victim to the tourist traps we have set for you Northerners).

One thing that my wife and I learned a long time ago is that there is not an artist in the Continental United States that is talented enough to capture our image in the form of a caricature. There have been many-a-men to try; but non up to the challenge. We learned this so early in our relationship that we have saved millions of dollars in failed attempts while protecting the confidence of artists across our great divide.

Then we met a man.

I did not know this man. We will call him “Artist X”. He was confident and cunning at his craft. He was proud and boastful. He even bellowed like one of Robin Hood’s Merry Men when I approached him with a challenge…

the taylor made dad

I have been in the market for some new golf clubs as of late.I am not one of those maniacs that buy and try every new golf club that is supposed to contain the latest and greatest technology. Nor am I a guy that believes that a club can make up for what practice has neglected. I am simply a man that understands that I can find some benefit in upgrading the sticks that I purchased 17 years ago.

When I bought my current clubs I didn’t do a tremendous amount of research. I watched T.V. and looked at the clubs being used by the guys that were making all the money on tour. I made my selection based on the success of guys like Fred Couples and never thought twice about it. I bought them right off the rack with matching woods and a putter and started playing the game.

With those clubs, I learned to putt well and chip decent. My iron shots are high and crisp. I am not out driven very often and sometimes they are even in the fairway. I score well (even when I count every stroke) and I understand the meaning of the game and have respect for its required etiquette. My clubs have treated me well, and in return, I have cared for them.

Now as I shop for my new buddies, I find myself experiencing different challenges.

deal or no deal

Imagine you’re a quarterback for a professional football team.You have been on the same team for years and you have an impressive winning record. You have proven your commitment to the team through hard work, concerned effort, and teamwork. You take time to study the game and you apply your knowledge to each challenge; always learning, always growing. You respect your teammate’s opinions and feelings, so you work on including them in playmaking decisions and try to give everyone a chance to participate.

You find yourself in a huddle during a big game.

The strength and ability of your team is being challenged and you all join together, as usual, and formulate your next play. You assess your current situation, taking your players condition and talents in mind and you call a play. Your team cheers you on in agreement and you all throw your hands in the middle and start the cadence for the “unity cry”…

1..2..3..GO!!!

she’s a brick……….house

I remember being a stone.

There was no rhyme or reason to my edges. Some were curved and some were sharp. There was no motive for them to conform to anything or for the stone to change its shape or size. I was closer to round than it was to square. I didn’t have to match with anything. I was simply a random piece of stone. Rolling along, trying to move along with life.

Life takes a stone and transforms it.

It works at smoothing out the rough edges of your stone. It does it’s best to even out the sides and flatten the top and bottom. You sometimes question why life is messing with you; everything seemed to be pretty darn good as you rolled along. Now you have transformed into something that looks more like a brick.

One day you meet another brick.

american idad

Occasionally, I find myself Dad watching.

I look at Dad’s interacting with their kids (or not) and judge their performance. Depending on the kind of day I am having, I can look at the same situation and interpret it in different ways. I try to take everything that is apparent into consideration when forming my opinion. Then there are the unknown factors that play a roll as well. If you are lucky enough to sit next to them in a restaurant or movie, as opposed to a simple breeze by in the mall, you can pretty much figure out the kind of parent they are, regardless of the unknown.

There will be people that will argue the “unknown” factor and tell me “I just don’t understand”. Others will give me a “shame on you for judging”, but here it goes anyway.

Example (the short version):

I’m in a restaurant / a family sits next to me / little girl has no “quiet voice” / Mom yells at her 345,681 times to “be quiet” / girl says “no” half of those times / the other half she just ignores her Mom / the girl orders everything, eats nothing /  the Dad sits on his lazy butt and stuffs his face with his Grand Slam / the girl throws things at her parents / everyone in the restaurant wishes them dead / except of course me, being a Christian and all.

you want a piece of me?

My last few posts have been a bit on the mushy side. My very last post (and most popular to date according to my stats, go figure) was about “quilting”. It is with this in mind that I implore upon you to please excuse the violent nature of this post as I swing my ever powerful “man-a-tude” pendulum to the opposite extreme.

With the causes and effects of war we are not concerned. Its continued existence is inevitable and its results for good or evil are beyond all human power to avert or change. — George S. Patton, Jr. 1927

Rock Balboa had a battle to fight.

He was challenged by men that didn’t know him; ridiculed by those who knew him less; questioned by those closest to him, doubted by those he respected; and found no support, initially, from those he loved. He had no reason to follow through. He had every reason to cower. He had been supplied any and every excuse he needed to back down.

But he chose to fight anyway.

the fabric of life

In honor of my newest blog buddies, I have decided to step out of my comfort (no pun intended) zone and speak about quilting.

I am amazed at the amount of people that share this interest, and although you will probably never see me basting, bearding, or binding; I must admit that I was thinking about getting a rotary cutter to help me cut my thin and crispy margarita pizzas into perfect little triangles.

Please understand that you could take everything I know about quilting; put it in a thimble; and still have room for the 300 Spartans.