Normally, I'm a huge sucker for Christmas. It's always been my favorite time of year and Christmas Eve has consistently been perched atop my rankings for favorite day of the year. What began as a youthful infatuation with getting presents has evolved into a love of the time and atmosphere.
It's not the gifts that you remember years later, it's the way the Christmas tree smelled as you brought it into the house. Or how you nervously looked out the side mirror, praying that you wouldn't see an arbor silhouette cascading down the side of the car, backlit by the bokeh headlights of the cars behind you.
When we think back, it's all about the senses we felt, not the stuff we got.
Unfortunately, this year is being dominated by some pretty overwhelming feelings. It was a pretty tough year for me personally and it seems to be going out with a bang, crippling my mother's boyfriend along the way.
Being happy around this time wasn't a task growing up; it just was. This year it's been a hike. Long, slow and painful.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Strong Cup of Coffee
Second-year San Francisco 49ers running back Glen Coffee retired yesterday.
Now, taken at face value, it's probably a little startling but not incredibly so. After all, the average career span of an NFL running back is 1.5 years, 3.5 years when all positions are factored into the equation. Anyone who's played football has had to retire at some point in their lives. I retired about five years ago.
Even Brett Favre will have to retire at some point.
What makes Coffee's retirement so shocking -- aside from the fact that he was the main back-up to an oft-injured player on a team projected to win somewhere around 10 games this season -- is his reasoning for walking away.
It wasn't what God wanted.
From all that I've read about him coming out of Alabama and now in the pros, Coffee is a deeply spiritual man who listens to his conscience. He listens to the Lord.
How many times have we all known in our hearts what He wanted for us, what He wanted us to do, and have chosen to instead do what we want. Sure, He puts things on our hearts, but there are times when our desires don't match His.
Here's a Q&A where he explains his rationale behind his decision.
I wouldn't be surprised if some fans and members of the media pan Coffee for being selfish and not thinking about his teammates, but until you walk with Him, you can't understand a decision like this.
Even if they do come, something tells me Coffee wouldn't care too much about that. He lives for the eternal; who cares what people say?
Now, taken at face value, it's probably a little startling but not incredibly so. After all, the average career span of an NFL running back is 1.5 years, 3.5 years when all positions are factored into the equation. Anyone who's played football has had to retire at some point in their lives. I retired about five years ago.
Even Brett Favre will have to retire at some point.
What makes Coffee's retirement so shocking -- aside from the fact that he was the main back-up to an oft-injured player on a team projected to win somewhere around 10 games this season -- is his reasoning for walking away.
It wasn't what God wanted.
From all that I've read about him coming out of Alabama and now in the pros, Coffee is a deeply spiritual man who listens to his conscience. He listens to the Lord.
How many times have we all known in our hearts what He wanted for us, what He wanted us to do, and have chosen to instead do what we want. Sure, He puts things on our hearts, but there are times when our desires don't match His.
Here's a Q&A where he explains his rationale behind his decision.
I wouldn't be surprised if some fans and members of the media pan Coffee for being selfish and not thinking about his teammates, but until you walk with Him, you can't understand a decision like this.
Even if they do come, something tells me Coffee wouldn't care too much about that. He lives for the eternal; who cares what people say?
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Sweet Mama Jamba
This week has been crazy at work... and it only gets worse from here, till about September 14th, anyway.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Dear Mr. Body Odor
Dear Mr. B.O.,
Let's call you Bo for short. I've been trying hard to avoid saying anything about this, so please excuse the length at which I'm going to go into this. Alas, sir, you've given me no choice.
I'm a big Seinfeld fan, but whenever I'd watch the episode where Jerry's valet has such bad body odor that it envelops Jerry's car to the point where he'd just give it away, I'd have a disconnect. I could never fully understand that scenario. Until now.
Let me just say that I love your work ethic. Whether I go in the morning or at night, it seems like you're there, about to put in some work. It may be that level of work, however, that has given you the strongest body odor I've ever smelled in my entire life. It is beyond b.o.
It overwhelms me.
Overpowers me.
It makes me want to stop working out, literally. I want to just stop what I'm doing and walk out of the building so that I can get some air. In those moments, I'll do anything to get some relief.
Honestly, I don't understand how others can be near you, Bo. I see you talking to them and I wonder whether or not their oflactory receptors are malfunctioning. I assure you that mine are not, sir. So please, PLEASE(!) put on some deodorant so that you can, you know, not smell like a Turkish sewer.
Thanks.
Your's Truly,
Sean
Let's call you Bo for short. I've been trying hard to avoid saying anything about this, so please excuse the length at which I'm going to go into this. Alas, sir, you've given me no choice.
I'm a big Seinfeld fan, but whenever I'd watch the episode where Jerry's valet has such bad body odor that it envelops Jerry's car to the point where he'd just give it away, I'd have a disconnect. I could never fully understand that scenario. Until now.
Let me just say that I love your work ethic. Whether I go in the morning or at night, it seems like you're there, about to put in some work. It may be that level of work, however, that has given you the strongest body odor I've ever smelled in my entire life. It is beyond b.o.
It overwhelms me.
Overpowers me.
It makes me want to stop working out, literally. I want to just stop what I'm doing and walk out of the building so that I can get some air. In those moments, I'll do anything to get some relief.
Honestly, I don't understand how others can be near you, Bo. I see you talking to them and I wonder whether or not their oflactory receptors are malfunctioning. I assure you that mine are not, sir. So please, PLEASE(!) put on some deodorant so that you can, you know, not smell like a Turkish sewer.
Thanks.
Your's Truly,
Sean
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Under Construction
Too often these days I stare at this screen, trying to think of something to say, and coming away with nothing but a cursor blinking away at me. Taunting me, like it knows I've got nothin'.
I've wanted to get back int o being better, if only to do something consistent away from going in to work and trying to keep from being overwhelmed by some guy's body odor while I sweat through my tattered, old shirts at the gym. (Seriously, same guy every time. People are always around him, chatting him up, too. I have no clue how they haven't been quarantined due to exposure yet.)
I know that for my own wellbeing, I need to -- Who else will make fun of Brett Favre? -- but for some reason, it's harder than just saying "Ok, let's' do it."
I'm not sure what to call it. Writer's block seems like too cliche an explanation, although it could very well be the truth. While rationalizing the fact that I don't have internet access at home would be handy, I know of ways to circumvent that. I just haven't done it too often.
I guess that's the preparation for saying this whole writing again thing seems to be more of a work in progress thing than I'd like. But it's getting better. I mean, right now. I'm writing, see? So that's a start. And then tomorrow, hope fully I'll write. Then Monday. And so on and so forth.
After all, I do have some subject matter. Like the horrible (horrible) drivers in Chicago. Or the aforementioned, supremely stinky gym rat. Or the old love life. Or the start of what could be my next "step." All good material. Maybe in the coming days, I'll get into a few of them. Until then, I guess just settle for the fact that I'm working on it...and am almost there.
Take that, cursor, you smug bastard.
I've wanted to get back int o being better, if only to do something consistent away from going in to work and trying to keep from being overwhelmed by some guy's body odor while I sweat through my tattered, old shirts at the gym. (Seriously, same guy every time. People are always around him, chatting him up, too. I have no clue how they haven't been quarantined due to exposure yet.)
I know that for my own wellbeing, I need to -- Who else will make fun of Brett Favre? -- but for some reason, it's harder than just saying "Ok, let's' do it."
I'm not sure what to call it. Writer's block seems like too cliche an explanation, although it could very well be the truth. While rationalizing the fact that I don't have internet access at home would be handy, I know of ways to circumvent that. I just haven't done it too often.
I guess that's the preparation for saying this whole writing again thing seems to be more of a work in progress thing than I'd like. But it's getting better. I mean, right now. I'm writing, see? So that's a start. And then tomorrow, hope fully I'll write. Then Monday. And so on and so forth.
After all, I do have some subject matter. Like the horrible (horrible) drivers in Chicago. Or the aforementioned, supremely stinky gym rat. Or the old love life. Or the start of what could be my next "step." All good material. Maybe in the coming days, I'll get into a few of them. Until then, I guess just settle for the fact that I'm working on it...and am almost there.
Take that, cursor, you smug bastard.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
Kindness Counts
It's safe to say that I'd envisioned my life looking a bit different
at this moment when I was younger. To be sure, I've got some work to
do to get to that point.
at this moment when I was younger. To be sure, I've got some work to
do to get to that point.
Sometimes it gets to me, but I'm reminded by my family and friends
(seemingly always at the perfect time) that the story isn't ever
completely told halfway through the novel. The climax never comes at
the beginning of the story. Big-picture stuff, this IS early.
Sometimes I forget that. It does me good to hear that.
I'm thankful to those who help with kind words. I need more of that in
my life.
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