On a flight from Lubbock to Dallas for a recruiting visit last November, I put this book in that little pouch under the tray-table. I subsequently got distracted and forgot it when I exited the plane. Why would I do that, you ask. Well, I had spent the better part of the hour-long flight wavering between sheer annoyance with and sincere compassion for the sad, (not-so-)little man next to me.

He and his co-worker had been in Lubbock on business from the Metroplex. Apparently, he was "in sales" and the guy on the aisle was a software developer. Their personalities couldn't have been more different: the salesman was stereotypically loquacious (I'm being nice here; the guy hardly shut his freakin' yap!) and the techie was quiet and reserved.

As we left the ground and the salesman's near-monologue rambled on, prideful boasts about his professional ethic of "in it for the money, in it to win it" transitioned into an exposé of his personal life. Divorced and a father of two, he and his ex-wife continue to bicker and complicate each other's day-to-day with dysfunction after selfish dysfunction. Worse, they argue over who gets the kids when it's convenient, yet then argue over who has to take the kids when it infringes on their personal lives (especially their complicated new romantic endeavors). The brief (and so-vague-as-to-raise-many-doubts-about-their-veracity) forays into his sexual exploits as a newly-single man took me to new heights of disdain.

But then I remembered that my parents were there once (well, maybe not *THERE* there, but). They had been worn raw by the efforts to dissolve a marital union. My mom and dad had gone through the awkwardness and confusion of a shared custody arrangement. And while I did feel that the salesman was likely not taking the same approach my mom and dad did, I could hear the hurt behind his hubris, the fear behind his frustration.

Sure, he insulted my tie, thought I was far younger than I was, and called me by some hick name I now can't recall ("Bubba" or "Earl" or something), but this guy, by the end of the flight, had both me and his good-natured co-worker both committing to pray for him and his kids (the programer dude said it out load and I did so silently).

As a child of divorce, I consider it truly a blessing that the adults in my life looked out for me and my well-being as much as they did. I'm not saying the salesman wasn't concerned about his kids or doesn't love them; it just wasn't evident in all of that talking (you'd think that somewhere in there he'd have thrown them a bone, even if to just to look good). That said, if he does half was well as my three parents did, he could be doing a lot worse, I'm sure.

Though I didn't finish the book, this I know: caring about others' well-being as much as or more than your own is not one of the 48 Laws of Power. The book is all about Machiavellian stratagems and deceit. I don't want to learn the 48 Laws so as to use them; I want to learn them so as to identify them and defuse them.

Game Time

I've had this idea for a store stuck in my head for a long time. My wife, our friends and family, and I really like to play games, but not your traditional card and board games. We play games like Imaginiff!, Loaded Questions, Five Crowns, Quiddler, UnoSpin, Whoonu, etc. Over the years, we've bought and tried (and been given) a lot of different games and I think it would be cool to own a game store.

More specifically, I've kicked the idea around so much in my mind that I've got a name (GameKnight), a layout (different kinds of games in "towers" at the corners of the store with the customer service/checkout in the middle surrounded by a moat painted on the floor), and a multiple-streams of income approach that includes retail sales, rentals, and room reservations. People could come in and rent a game to try it. We'd have demo versions of all of our games that they could open up and see. Customers could rent one of our game rooms for birthdays and such. The only rule: no video games. We'd carry all sorts of games, including the more advanced role-playing games and customizable collectible card games. It'd be a blast!

Yeah... I spend too much time in my head. ;-)

While the movie doesn't follow the book (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Iron_Man_(novel)) very closely (which I'm fine with; the book sounds weird!), this little flick was a pleasant surprise. Beth and I saw it in the theater because I was sort of intrigued by the preview (maybe? It's been a while). It's a ton of fun, the characters (and their voice actors) are great, and the story is super pulpy and super touching. Go watch it!

an astro-droid
Hey, if Artoo was Luke Skywalker's co-pilot in that classic X-Wing, then I can sure use one of those Swiss Army knives of a droid helping me make a trip someplace. Since I've started collecting them, I've taken one everywhere with me; to Honduras, L.A., South Daktoa, etc.

Ridley's cousins live in these two cities. His grandparents live in near-by places also, so if Pearland and Sturgis were closer to each other, they'd get pulled along as well.

If you drew a straight line between the two, the midpoint would be somewhere in the western half of Kansas. That would be 8 hours away from where we live and make visiting the two families so much easier! It would be even better if they were pulled within 6 hours of Lubbock!

I grew up with cousins around for summer vacation and making visits to see cousins and I really cherish that part of my childhood. And though most of Ridley's cousins are 10+ years older than him, little Emmerie down in Pearland is two days older than him, and that's just too close to not be... well, close!

The first book I remember reading was "The Berenstain Bears and the Missing Dinosaur Bone". I read it in kindergarten and I recall my teacher having a problem with the fact that I had learned to read outside of the formal, state-supported education system. I look back upon that book fondly and won't spoil the twist at the end! ;-)

I had a lot of books growing up: Star Wars movie storybooks, a series of biographical illustrated books on influential people from the past (like Marie Curie & Louis Pasteur, the Wright Brothers, Helen Keller, and many more), the Chronicles of Narnia, and on and on. I love to read and, looking back, I now know why.

But the one book that has recently jumped back into my mind and stirred up all sorts of nostalgic feelings is "Where the Wild Things Are". That was the first book that I can remember that really got me to use my imagination. The reason it's popped back into my brain is that I recently watched a trailer for the upcoming film. Check it out:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ERTuravilL8

In past bloggings, I've shown you the fun little weird toys we bought for Ridley. Recently, I bought a kooky guy off of etsy that I just know Ridley's going to love. In my mind, what draws me to kids' toys are their ability to get me to use my imagination. Where did these creatures come from? Why does the dragon say "blah!"? What can I build next? I owe that, in part, to "Where the Wild Things Are". I hope the movie can deliver on decades of imaginative promise.

What It Takes by Aerosmith

One of the early steps of the grieving process is Anger and I'm a firm believer in allowing oneself to fully grieve the loss of the relationship. When broken up with, we almost always get to anger pretty quick, so this song can serve well. Some break-up songs ruthlessly rails against your ex (see: I Hate Everything About You by Ugly Kid Joe), but What It Takes expresses pain and anger without getting too bitter and hurtful.

Listen here: http://tinyurl.com/cn4zh8

There's such wonderful anguish behind the lines "Tell me how it is that you can sleep in the night / Without thinking you lost everything that was good in your life to the toss of the dice".

I've not broken up a lot in my life, but this song has always stuck in my mind as how I felt when I did.

"Do or do not. There is no 'try'." is often cited by Star Wars fans as their favorite movie line, but for many different reasons. Personally, I like it because Yoda is really challenging Luke's self-defeating dialogue. The words we use are heard by others, sure, but they carry even more power with us, the speakers. Luke was basically saying, "I guess. Whatever. I don't think I can do it." And Yoda pretty much said, "Either do it or don't, but quit whining about things." A lot of people should listen to the love child of Kermit and Ms. Piggy.

busted

This country could use a healthy dose of reality. And not the brand of "reality" shown on "reality television". I just can't stand how disconnected from the real world we can be as Americans. Nearly everything about our current culture encourages this discouraging disconnect from really thinking about, feeling for, and doing something to help what's going on around us. You name it: poverty, illness, conflict, politics, the economy... we're being sold stories and some are more fairy tales than documentaries. The exception to the rule are people and groups who challenge others to engage, to empower others, to elicit change. Man! I'm cynical today!

If I could change one thing about my "living situation", it would be to get rid of the carpet in the master bath. Honestly, who puts carpet in a bathroom?

When we took down the wallpaper, textured the walls, painted, and installed new fixtures, we stopped at the toilet because, if we were going to pull the toilet up, I wouldn't want to put it back down on the carpet; I'd want to pull that up, too. So, someday, we'll put in tile, get a new toilet, and finish the wall behind the toilet.

This question ("Which moments in life do you wish you could do over?") reminds me of the Seinfeld episode in which George is at a meeting heartily shoveling shrimp down his throat. One of the execs says, "Hey, George! The ocean just called: they're out of shrimp!" Poor George couldn't think of a snappy comeback right away. Then, hours later, he thinks up, "Well, yeah? The jerk store called and they're out of you!" =D

We can all think of moments that we wish we could go back in time and respond better, not go shoplifting with our 8th-grade friends, etc. But that kind of thinking can be, in my opinion, one of the most destructive forms of emotional self-harm out there.

These moments we wish we could do over are part of us. They can make us better people (ideally, that would always be true) or they can serve to further entrench us in counter-productive attitude and behaviors. But, either way, they are part of us and to wish they weren't is to say something like, "I wish I wasn't me."

And that's just not the case!

I'm glad I'm me.

I'm glad Beth's Beth.

And I'm glad Ridley will be Ridley (thanks, in part, to all of the little moments he might wish he could do over).

I was nine, my sister was twelve, and I don't think my dad knew it had as much nudity in it as it did. I mean, c'mon! It had Chevy Chase as the star for goodness' sake! Needless to say, we just kept looking forward and pretended not to notice those... uh... parts. ;-)

Fresh Rosa's Tortillas
If you're a friend of mine, you'll likely have been to Lubbock. And if you've been to Lubbock, you'll likely have been to Rosa's. If you've been to Rosa's, you have to love their tortillas. They are the Tortilla Factory after all. Whether you take your tortillas with honey and butter or salsa verde, they are fantastic comfort food!

A Mix CD
I think nothing says, "I'm thinking of you," more than hand-selected music to fit your many moods and help you recall the people, places, and times you're missing.

Our Favorite Picture of Us
It would just finish off the experience to gaze upon a snapshot of the two (or more) of us and imagine everything back the way it was... or better (thanks to nostalgia).

The question posed to us today is "When (if ever) is it okay to lie?"

The choices given are too simplistic for me to use: "to protect someone's feelings" (maybe), "when no one's looking" (not a good reason, but possibly), "about my age" (that's just cliché), "when I feel like it" (probably not), "never" (probably the best of the options in my mind, but unlikely).

So, in the "other" blank I answered: "It's too complicated."

I think knowing when it is "okay" to lie is like Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart's "definition" of pornography: You'll know it when you see it.

The opportunities to lie a many and varied on a daily basis. From small things to big things, to strangers and loved ones, if you're looking to lie, there's a chance just around the corner.

But when is it okay? Here are some criteria:

1) Will you benefit from the lie? If so, you better see if there's another option.
2) Will someone be hurt by the lie? If so, you'd be well-served to explore a different path.
3) Do you feel fear for being caught in your lie? If so, you better be sure your motives are pure.
4) Will you likely have to lie again to protect this first lie? If so, it's probably not worth the effort.

If you don't benefit from the lie, if nobody will be hurt by the lie, if you don't feel guilt-ridden fear when telling the lie, and if you most likely will only have to lie that one time, it MIGHT be okay to lie in that one instance. Maybe.

More often than not, honesty (with a loving, grace-filled heart behind it) is the best policy.

I used to live an hour-and-a-half (about 80 miles) away from Mato Tipila (as the Lakota Sioux call it) and have been there five or six times (I think). Scientists figure is was formed between 225 and 65 million years ago. I'd say that's pretty old! Some people climb it, some just walk around it, but all are awed by it.

Growing up in the Paha Sapa (Black Hills) area, I was lucky enough to spend time in some places that were old before the wica ska (white man) came with their buildings and monuments. From the Needles granite structures deep in the hills to the Badlands out east in the plains, Western South Dakota is a great place to grow up.

School bus

In junior high, I was running to catch a bus. I jumped off of the second to last step, landed on ice in front of the bus door, and busted my butt right in front of everyone else. When I slipped, my left leg kicked up and my shin struck the bottom of the bus extremely hard. So hard, in fact, that the force of the swelling split my skin and muscle down to the bone. 'Course, this was the late 80's, so I was wearing pants with very skinny ankles and I wasn't going to pull my pants down to inspect my leg, so I rode the bus for 30 minutes before getting in my mom's car and riding the rest of the way home (another 15 minutes). Luckily, it was cold and I was wearing knee-high socks (yeah, I was super stylish), so I didn't bleed that much.

20-something stitches on the inside and 40-something on the outside and a leg brace for 30 days, and I was all better. Now, I have this very smooth, U-shaped bald spot on my left shin and a great story.

Macarena by Los del Rio

When it first came out, I thought it was funny and had a good beat. After the billionth time I heard it, though, and had to see people dancing in public who had no business dancing in public, I had had enough... haven't we all?

My Phone
I need a new one. Two years ago, I thought I'd use this thing for everything. Now? Not so much.

My Keys
They've got little skulls on them to tell them apart. They're called skeleton keys.

It's where we would hang out and talk and pretend to study when we were undergrads and, if "an old friend is coming into town", that's "where [we would] meet up for a chat over a beverage".

Whatever's close, really. But I often get a craving for McDonald's when things are hectic.

Regardless of what one may think of M. Scott Peck, he got two things absolutely right: 1) miracles happen and to think any less demonstrates ignorance and arrogance and 2) the work of truly listening exhausts and is rarely attempted, less frequently achieved.