All is Futile

This weekend I went to a renewal of vows ceremony and left with mixed feelings. On one hand, I see the need to do whatever it takes to strengthen a marriage, especially in these days of epidemic marital misery. Though on the other hand, I was left wondering what was the point. The couple who pledged their love anew to each other are good people, nice people. Like every other married couple I know beyond a perfunctory, surface level, they are grappling with some serious issues. I left wondering (morbidly) whether this wedding was all icing and no cake. Will things really change? Or will things revert to chaos as soon as the novelty wears off. I fear that I know the answer, and this knowledge brings me no joy. I think we are going to have to take more serious measures to save our marriages. Ugly measures. We are going to have to crucify and deny ourselves. We are going to have to humble ourselves and be willing to look like fools and punks. We are going to have to part company with a lot of our bad habits and thoughts. We are going to have to divest ourselves of the security in 'knowing' that we are always in the right, and that everything would be fine if they would just do things our way. If we don't start doing some seriously revolutionary activity, we are going to be doomed to misery, failure, divorce, depression, psychosis. How did I get this from this weekend's festivities? Oh, just trying to be observant and introspective.

High Praise Indeed!

My English class is done for the night. My professor, the esteemed Dr. Hooper, handed back our midterm exams and our literary essays. I got A's on both. I also received a profound compliment. Dr. Hooper told me I was an excellent writer. How cool is that? I have been writing for many, many years, laboring in obscurity under the yoke of my own haphazardness. I have too many interests, and so all of them suffer. I have won writing contests, I have won poetry contests. I feel like I owe it to myself to write more -hence this blog. I am really honored that a Ph. D in letters would find my humble offerings to be excellent. The pedigree of the compliment is born on the standing of the one who declares it. Hot dog, I may just carry this thing to its appointed end! I have courage to continue on. In my 8th grade yearbook, a girl named Paula, who I believe was the only other Black person in the school's gifted English class, wrote "To a boy who can write his ASS off." I have known that I possessed the requisite tools, even as a young child, to be a good writer, but it never turned out like that. Life happened. In my junior year, my gifted English techer had me stand tall in front of the principal and explain how a poor Black boy could write such a staggeringly insightful literary criticism on Shakespeare's MacBeth. "I mean really -why don't you tell us where you copied this from so we can suspend you and go home." "Define the word 'macrocosm', if you can." This paper is too good too have come from you, that was the point. But I knew better, and I exonerated myself. I went of the U of I majoring in English, then abandoned it because of the rampant racism there and my own immaturity. Then, a long drought. Hmmm.

Years later, I am told that I have a gift (still). I feel my muse gently prodding, I hear destiny whispering. I grow intrigued with the possibilities.

Oh, this child

What am I going to do with this handful? My mind is being stretched to its limits. I am confronted with situations I never considered, and I wonder whether I am handling them properly. I wonder if the situation is already lost. I wonder if I should bother doing anything. My eldest child was recently suspended for taking a pocketknife to school. Most of you can probably predict the progression of events, given that we are living in a post-Columbine era. She didn't attack anyone, didn't threaten anyone, but she was foolish enough to be caught with it, and that alone merits a suspension.

I am not upset with the school. I don't think my child got a raw deal. I think my child is very foolish, and like all the other fools out there (myself included), she should suffer the resultant consequences and learn from them. My bigger concern is with the foolishness itself, not the school's response. The bible says that "A youngster's heart is filled with foolishness, but discipline will drive it away." This is Proverbs 22:15, in case you are curious. Now, I believe in that verse. My mother believed in that versed. Unfortunately, though she tried mightily, she was unable to drive the foolishness out of me before I graduated high at 17. So spectacular was my resolve to do what I wanted, when I wanted and how I wanted, that I immediately left home at the first opportunity and ACTED A FOOL. 15 years later, at age 32, I still recognize some foolish areas in my life, but have nonetheless made great strides. My question is, is my daughter going to repeat this cycle? She already has her father's relative indifference to discipline. She doesn't like spankings, but they don't seem to be much of a deterrent anymore. If you yell at her long enough she breaks down and cries pitifully, but the behaviors are not being positively altered. I don't want to go another 8 years of talking to one ear and watching my words pass out the other side with no drop in voltage. Is this what I put my mother through? I really am concerned about my child. I want her to go further, and faster than her old man. I made many bad choices. But I have stayed in my children's lives, in part to try and guide them to a better end. With all the drama my firstborn is putting my spouse and me through, I just am feeling discouraged.

One of the worst things you can say to a child is, "You're just like your no good daddy!" Hey, I can freely admit that for my of my life, I was no good. Were I to list all of my transgressions here, the internet would probably crash trying to store it and transmit it. However, thanks to God, I have come a great long way, and don't do the things I used to do. I would much rather my child, whom I am loving through tears and heartache, emulate her father who is trying to be a good person, rather than the old me, who, although she never directly met him, seems to be nonetheless alive and well in her genetic code.

Finished my two midterm essays

Talk about gruelling. Man, I'm almost driven to drink. I need to unwind before I turn in --if I go to bed now, I'll just lay there deep in thought, then end up cleaning or something because sleep will not come. I figured I'd write in this blog, but I really want to unwind with something LESS mental. Maybe I should fire up that GameCube. Hmm...

I could practice the bass for a little while. That shouldn't wake anyone up if I'm careful. Hmmm...

Superbowl Sunday

A further attestation to my thrilling life...

My wife had to work Saturday night, so it fell to me to have the children ready for church. This was not as difficult as many fathers suppose, leading me to question what the rationale is for so many men being so hands-off with their own offspring. Our church has two services, and as part of the praise and worship ministry (the Voices of Life choir), I have to be present at both services, plus show up even earlier than that to pray and do some last minute preparation. The usual routine is to leave while everyone is still asleep, and my wife wakes up later and joins me at the second service. But with the seismic shifts our household is going through, this routine may not return for a while. Thankfully my kids are hardy and enthusiastic, they don't mind spending a little more time at church than normal, as long as they aren't hungry! So I was up late Sat. night studying while the kids were asleep, and knocked off around 3:30AM. I got up at 6:15 and got them up and cleaned and dressed and fed. My voice is not 100% due to my congestion, but I am committed to giving this my best effort. We sing through the first service some really nice songs. One song, Better is One Day, often makes me cry (how's THAT for being in touch with your feminine side). The chorus goes:

Better is one day in your courts
Better is one day in your house
Better is one day in your courts
Than thousands elsewhere.

I don't know what it is about that song. It conjures up a concept of a relationship so intimate that relative immortality is something worthy of sacrificing just for a limited amount of time with God. To me, that is truly profound. As I have sought to deepen my understanding of myself and my purpose, and walk closer with God, being in His presence is something I greatly desire now. The closest secular parallel that comes to mind is from the Lord of the Rings, where Arwen, the Elf princess chooses to give up immortality because the man she loves is a Human. Elves, for those not in the know, live forever unless killed in battle. She knows Aragorn will grow old and die, but she loves him so much, she wants to grow old and die with him. If that's not awesome, I don't know what is.

Anyway, first service comes and goes, Pastor preaches a good sermon. He is wearing a Georgia Bulldogs jersey, because this is a casual Sunday, and most people are wearing sports jerseys. I don't really have the disposable capital to go out and buy an Eagles jersey, so I opt to wear something representing my Alma Mater, the University of Illinois. Cory, another tenor, is wearing a Perdue shirt. This causes some friendly jabs to be thrown. It's all good. My grandmother once worked at Perdue as a sorority house mother. Perdue is okay in my book, even if it is in Indiana. You know why? Because when I was there, I found a Garcia's Pizza near the campus. Garcia's is the finest pizza on the nine planets. I thought only U of I had it, but seeing that Perdue had it too, how bad could they be??? So we get through the service, and as we lead the praise and worship in the second service, the 11am, a strange thing happens. I am overcome with emotion while singing Ignite My Fire, Lord -to the point where my voice breaks and tears are streaming down my face. I was momentarily embarrassed -the whole church could see me. It is one thing to have an experience when you are in the pew, when everyone is doing their own thing and most likely not paying you any mind; this however, was something altogether different. I was on the stage and vulnerable for all to see. I didn't know what to make of it. Eventually, I realized that no one else mattered, and I just basked in God's love and mercy. He's been pretty good to an old dog like me. I wasted many years pursuing my own agenda, and I think that the words to Ignite My Fire, Lord just illuminated how much of a change I have gone through. I am living for him now!!! That is news good enough to bring tears to this cynical bastard's eyes. If anyone asked me what that was about, I'd tell them it was between me and God, but nobody asked. I just dwelt in that moment, and experienced something very special. I am not prone to religious ecstasy, thus my initial reaction. I was like, "What the heck is this? Why are you crying?" My mind didn't know what my spirit was up to. Truly amazing.

After the praise portion ended, I gathered my children and left. I grabbed some pizza some Little Caesar's, and fed them when we got home. My wife has home, asleep, and we all followed suit. We got home by about 1, and by 2, everyone was napping. I woke up at 4:30 and started to study for Humanities. I'll write about the Superbowl later.

Phase II Complete, Cold Caught

I woke up sneezing, aching, all that good stuff. We had an ice storm last week, then the temp climbed to short-sleeves weather. Too much going on too fast, and now I'm a little ill. The last 6 weeks I worked for Siemens, I was sick and couldn't kick it, because I was always on the go and wouldn't let my body rest. It won't be the same story now. I am going to attack this cold vigorously, with fluids, rest, and chicken soup. What a concept. I see why some blogs are so boring -there's nothing exciting about this. Maybe I should switch gears.

Phase II of my home improvement project is done. I tapped into the phone wiring in my daughter's room and ran it down into the office. Now I can connect my fax machine!!! Did I mention that everytime I need to send a fax, I have to take it into the kitchen, where the nearest working jack is? I then have to lug it back to the office immediately, lest my son perform demolitions or surgery on it. This is fabulous!!! Thinking ahead, I ran Cat5 up to my daughter's room. I am not yet prepared to allow her to have internet access in her room, but I have been dissatisfied with the signal strength of the wireless network I have implemented. Downstairs it is very reliable, but since I gave Siemens their laptop back, the only wireless computers I have are upstairs in my bedroom. I don't know whether the range or the architectural obstructions are at the root of the problem, but I figure that I can add my print server router to the network and sit the wireless router in my daughter's room, and the closer proximity and straight line of site to my bedroom will give me better coverage. I haven't implemented this yet, but I am optimistic. Hmmm... that wasn't very exciting either. I guess that's why this is called Days in the Life. My life hasn't been exciting in a long time.

Phase One complete for 1st time homeowner

Yes!! I was so excited as I walked out the door for class, I could hardly contain myself. I drove to class blasting an old tune I had written, just feeling exhilirated!! Why?? I successfully undertook the task of running Ethernet and coaxial cable wire through the walls and floors to compensate for the ineptitude of my homebuilder -and it worked!!!! A little background? Well, okay.

In my house there is a great family room that is the main room of the house. There is also a living room, in which people may also congregate, though it is a little smaller, has no fireplace, and lacks direct access to the kitchen. The usual option is to put French doors on the entrance to the living room -to close it off and call it an office. Indeed, most people who have a floor plan similar to mine go this route; however, the builder failed to put in a phone jack, or a cable jack. Before the house was built, I wanted it wired for Ethernet throughout the whole house, but they would not pick up the option. Anyway, how is someone going to effectively use a room as an office if there is no phone line? And high speed internet comes in either by phone or cable, right? So these profit-minded mercenaries gave me (and my fellow subdivision neighbors) a neutered office space.



Thus, I decided to take matters into my own hands and run the cabling myself, despite having never done it before. A guy I talked to named Kirk said that because I had a basement, I had a definite advantage. I could in theory, he postulated, drill down through the floor behind the wall and run cabling along the basement ceiling into any 1st level location I choose. "Okay," I mused, "I'll do it." I cut a large hole in my family room where the cable jack was. I measured from the jack to the fireplace wall, then applied that measurement in the basement, hoping this was not a foolish thing to do. I drilled up from the basement, and after much anxiety, I broke through. Using fish tape, I took an Ethernet cable, tied it to a length of coaxial, and fed it through the drilled out hole. On the first floor, I attached a coax signal splitter inside the wall, so that the coax I just ran could have an entry point in the cable data stream. The Ethernet cable is just taking up space for the moment. The router is in the office, so the only need for Ethernet in the family room is if I needed put in a computer there and needed net access , which is doubtful. Phase one is now complete. Now I just need a phone line in there.