the life of a procrastinator

I've always heard that ignorance is bliss....I would have to say from experience that so is the procrastinator mentality.

It's the same mindset that fuels the disorganized soul's constant state of mess as well.

Just recently during my summer sabatical from the life of teaching high school students, I have made a very strong effort to organize my life, my teaching, everything really. It all started in the garage and radiated like a cancer through my house and my life. I discovered new worlds as I cleaned out old cabinets and closets. I found trinkets from my childhood that reminded me of a past life. I cleaned and cleaned, making order out of chaos and forming new places to keep the things I use on a daily basis instead of things that I will never use again.

In this process I probably "stored" some very important USB and Firewire cables that help me run recording hardware on my computer so that they can never be found again. It's funny. When my life was in disorder, I knew where everything important was. All I had to do was reconstruct the last event in my mind that I used said object, and, oala! I knew where I could find it. Now that things are "in their place", I'm at a complete loss.

So here's to progress, organization, doing things on time, and everything else "Type-A" that fights the natural order of entropy.

The smell of a wet dog...part 2

It seems every time you hear about a match-making service or watch one of those old "Love Connection" game shows on the Game Show Network, that people always claim "long walks on the beach" as one of their main interests. Seriously though....who doesn't like walking on the beach at sunset?

For the last night of our vacation at Fripp island, we took the dogs and headed down to the sandy strip for some fun in that perfect time between sunlight and moonlight. There were more people there that night than on the previous nights and we had to leave the dogs on the leash for a while. Other people were walking as their kids rode ahead on rusty beach house bikes, then stopping, looking back, and waiting for mom and dad to catch up.

A group of people down towards the inlet was trying to fly a very large power kite...you know...the kind that you use for kite surfing or for use with a mountain board or 3 wheeled kite luge. They kept having problems with it and it would go down hard into the sand. Jack and Camden watched it for a while trying to figure out what it was, but then they finally turned their attention to the bare strip of beach in front of them with no walkers, bikers, or wave watchers. They turned back to look at me as if to question whether the leashes would be coming off soon.

As soon as I unhooked their tethers, the dogs took off like it was one of those posh greyhound races where people bet while sipping mint julips. Jack really does run like the wind.

Jack ended up finding this shecrab on the beach trying to bury herself and lay a load of eggs. He would get close and sniff her out, then she would snap her claws as quick as a ninja at his nose and he would jump back before trying to sniff her again. He began to enjoy the game and soon started to fake a paw fight with her. She really didn't enjoy the idea of a 60 lb dog crushing her and her future progeny, so she dug deep and disappeared.










Between watching the dogs, walking with my wife, and enjoying the picturesque scene at the eastern edge of America, it was one of the more memorable nights I've had in a long time.

bumped, bruised, and happy

When I was a kid I always used to come home with some fresh scrape or cut after riding my bike or playing in the woods until sundown. A nice shower, a good home-cooked meal, and one good night's sleep later and the injury became a battle wound that I was proud of and that I could tell the story of how it happened for ages to come.

Then I calmed down in life and became more careful...I guess it's a sign of maturing, but I almost forgot what it felt like to get scraped up when I was out exploring and adventuring. It probably also meant that I began to stop pushing my limits...I began to take the safest way out of every situation and found a comfort zone that I was eager to stay within.

This past week in the surf at Fripp island has produced many a scrape, bruise, muscle pull, and general body thrashing of the funnest kind. I walk out of the water each day watching myself bleed from a new spot because the rough edges of the rental board catches my foot as I pop up on a wave. I even got snagged by a jellyfish today on my left forearm. I have to say that the pain feels good. I feel like I earned each ride today and that, at the end of the day, each bump and bruise was a medal of happiness that will remind me tonight of how I caught myself living again today.

Why the buzz?...

You've seen the movies, you've heard the beach boys, you may have even been to a surf shop or two and seen those expensive pieces of fiberglassed foam painted in a rainbow of colors.

As a kid those surfboards always sucked me in like a tractor beam. I was drawn to them almost the same way I was drawn to guitars in a guitar shop...but I didn't live at the beach, so..."out of sight, out of mind" right?

Just recently my adventurous spirit has gotten the best of me and I've been trying to experience those things I've always wanted to, but never had the chance.

I have to say, with experience now, that surfing is possibly the most fun thing I've ever done.

When you see that wall of water rising up before you, capable of smashing you into the sand below, it normally brings a feeling over you that can best be expressed by "oh crap" or "yeeehhhhh.....doh!" But with this 9' board, I can blend with that wall of water...matching my intent with that of the wave, so that what results is a beautiful display of power and grace....supple strength...yielding intensity.

If you can't know what I'm talking about because you've never tried...please make some time to try this addictive hobby.

For those of you who have already experienced this, please...for the love of God, keep surfing.

"hang loose"
jeff

drop in...ride it out...feeling the flow

So today I lived out a dream that I've had since childhood. It actually kind of happened randomly too, which made it even sweeter. I ended up leaving my bathing suit at home accidently yesterday as kelley and I drove down to Fripp island.

This morning while everone else went out to the beach, Mrs. Bateman and I ran a couple of errands....including getting me a new bathing suit. At the surf shop that is close to Fripp, they ended up renting surf boards for pretty cheap and I rented one for the next week.

As Mrs. B and I walked out onto the beach...her carrying the surfboard over her head...Patrick, Kelley, and Erin just cracked up...well actually Patrick threw up a "rock on" hand and an afternoon of longboard surfing ensued.

Most of our time was spent wiping out, but each of us caught a handfull of waves that we rode in all the way. It's such an amazing feeling dropping in even on a small wave, standing up on the board, and feeling the surge of the ocean as it meets the shore push you along for a 10 second ride.

It's almost like the brief meeting of wave and land issues forth a surge of energy that we can tap into for a short time and witness a pure moment in time that will never happen again.

It's raining babies...

This is my friend Jacob Moody (married to the amazing Kelly Moody) and their son Micah Lee Moody.

So life cycles in such an amazing fashion.

when you're young, you watch as all your friends have teeth coming in...then a short while later, you compare each other's battle wounds as teeth begin to wiggle and fall out.

During the teenage years, you hear horror stories about how your friends are getting hair in really weird places...and then it happens to you.

After high school you begin to think of your own choices in the context of your friends' choices in college or job after graduation.

Once college is done, you start to hear of people getting married all around you.

Mid 40's hit and we get phone calls from buddies that just bought Corvettes or Harleys or that have just taken up surfing.

70's and 80's come around and we start to get those dreaded phone calls that our roommate from college just passed away or that Sue Johnson down the hall in the elderly care facility just got taken to the hospital complaining of sharp chest pains.


Right now I'm finding myself in the life stage where all my close friends are at the fruitful point..ushering in the next generation. It's a beautiful picture of life and the constant drive to move forward into the future.

Still though, you have to cringe a little when you think of the world we're bringing them into. My prayer for my friends (and soon myself hopefully) is that we'll be patient and kind but steadfast in our approachability, principle, and faith. That we can be examples that God would have us to be and point our children towards His truth.

The calm before the......

Storm is marching on the horizon

Droves of adolescents in eager and bittersweet paradox

A dread of assignment but even thicker boredom with that loneliness that is summer

So I'll vacate to the shore for a week of calm before the...

...kids.

eyes skyward

I'm hanging out in Barnes and Noble right now on a Wednesday enjoying some $4 internet and I figured.."heck..why not add a post to the blog since I'm spending the cash".

This Friday Kelley and I are heading to Fripp island for a week of escape. Evidently the place we're staying has 3 golf carts for putting around the island and it's really close to the beach.

I love these summer trips with the Batemans. They are so generous with their time and money when it comes to allowing us to share some vacation time with them. It's good for kelley and me as well just in that we get to go and have some married couple time away from Columbia.

I've been looking forward to this trip since winter time.

There's got to be a parallel here. Wait for it.... It'll hit...

Okay maybe not. The other day Bobby Hatfield and I were talking about the anticipation of Christ coming back. We were mentioning how Jews (at least the Jews who practice cultural Judaism,God bless them) often live in a state of complacent unexpectance. I hope that's a word.

Like they're saying the One has yet to come, but I haven't really seen much in practice or public statement about their eager awaiting of the Savior to come. This, admittedly, might be because I don't talk to many devout Jews. I apologize if I've offended anyone....totally not my point.

On the contrary, I think the offense is pointed at myself in my own faith. I do believe the Savior has come....and is to come again. Yet I often live life in a way that represents MY complacent unexpectance of His return.

So as I look forward to a week at Fripp island, I'll teach myself to keep my "eyes skyward".

Brainstorm

this evening

a violent storm ransacked my house

no...my mind...

thoughts like rubble lifted high into my conscious cloud climb

circling/spiraling/as if they were following some Pied Piper of inner monologue into the vast unknown of mental altitude.

then broken; smashed against the reaches of my cranial universe

falling back to where I lay my head like an endless drizzle of muddled nonsense

"what should I wear tomorrow I should go by the office before the seminar is at Richland Northeast in the media center has enough computers so that we can load the recording software is so easy to use for basic educational podcasts can't even be downloaded because the district doesn't have a good enough server that holds enough space when I go to teach the tai chi class tomorrow night should the students learn Xiang Gong or just more basic forms but we're heading to Fripp Island on Friday and I have to get the tires replaced on the Matrix before then so that we can learn to surf in time for Patrick's wedding but school starts back on the 8th or is it the 13th and then... I have those seminars...... to give... at ETV... on the... 31st ...........through ..................................the......................................... 3rd....................."

the rain stopped

I'll chance a zen-like sleepwalk through the humid and thick calm of a clear mind after a brainstorm.

Selling Thunder

That's right! In an effort to explore some new hobbies (i.e. surfing), I'm selling the hog. You can check out all the details at this link
http://www.hdtrader.com/58359

I hope this thing goes to a good home!

Of Rocks and Men

For me lately, the "juice" has been climbing. In gyms, outdoors.....whatever. I just want to feel my fingers grip into something more steady than just me.

Maybe that's the metaphor that subconsciously jumps me about climbing. God....the rock.

So picture it for yourself.....the image above might help....

...you've tied in to the rope and you have a good trusting relationship with your belayer.....there's a metaphor in itself, but I'll restrain myself from digressing...

...you ease yourself onto the rock face and begin ticking away at hand holds and footholds...one after the other in smooth sequential climbing fashion. As you get about 50 feet above the ground and feel the wind rushing by and that light sensation in your stomach that makes your right knee shake at the possibility of falling, you just grip down harder.....maybe adjust your left handhold a bit so you can rechalk your right hand and prepare to keep pushing....it's then that it hits you.

The only possibility for failure in this situation is me. The rock's not going anywhere and this equipment that I've spent so much money on is very unlikely to fail.....but my grip is what's shaky...and my stamina is what's limited. Isn't that why I come out here every weekend, in the first place, and tie in so that I can test myself against this solid rock? So that I can draw near to something so permanently fixed that's been around, for all intents and purposes, since the beginning of time itself?

And so as I test myself against the rock, gaining my steadfastness from its permanence.....hardening my grip to more closely resemble its fixed nature...I improve at my craft.....slowly....surely....humbly.....with no hurry to be "the best" or to break records.....but simply to undersand and know....therefore becoming a part of the very thing that allows me to elevate myself to a place of clearer perspective.

rock on.

Concerning Ants

Tiny, but proportionally bearing superhero powers, the ant is usually the recipient of shoe attacks and chemical warfare not only in our backyards, but around the globe. I too take part in the efforts towards species extinction of many different species of ants and have sworn to take the issue up with God on the day of judgement. "What's up with ants anyway?"

In Africa, ant troops have been known (I'm not making this up) to swarm into houses and carry human babies away, eating as they go.

In Australia, the Juming Jack ant can leap up to 2-3 feet in an effort to bite and KILL an unsuspecting victim....that means you buddy.

So given the alternative, I'll take the good ole South American imported fire ant anyday of the week. Yes that's right....the land of the free would have been free also of fire ants were it not for careless cargo ships bringing goods from South America into the gulf coast. That's how we got both the red and black fireants.

As we speak there are probably hundreds of these little guys hanging out in my house.....in the walls...under my kitchen counter. Lately K-Time and I have had our house become infested with them. When we got back from our Anniversary trip to the beach, there was a strong line of them coming out of the wall where our kitchen counter meets the wall and moving into the sink....where we had left one plate with a tiny crumb on it. I bought that Ortho Home Defense stuff and have been declaring martial law on any ant I come in contact with.

So in an effort to pay homage to the hundreds of ants I've brutally murdered under foot, finger, or death spray, I'll say this for the little guys.
1) They are team players.
2) They can smell better than my dogs.
3) They can carry stuff WAY bigger than they are.
4) It sucks when they bite you.
5) They're like Frodo....small but capable of making a huge difference.

So when you go out today and see that mound in the yard or a line of ants moving towards some food item, think about all the cool things about them before you stomp their lights out.....but please....don't refrain from stomping (or spraying) their lights out.

Hang loose

Sunlight fills the space around us like folk music from the radio on a spring night....comforting, warm, blissful lethargy.

A lazy roll of my head to the side to catch the sillouhetted shape of my beautiful wife laying in the sand beside me...

...waves continue their steady, comforting connection with the beach beneath us.

no time but for the two of us. present. happening. now.

no thoughts but for what we've missed out on in the past year....wait....


..."do I look skinnier than her?" she says as some girl walks by ...."Babe..." I say...

..."You're totally skinnier than her"...

...Now no thoughts but for what we're catching up on.

gratitude for time to do nothing....together.

Spent a week there, one day.

There's a John Denver song called "toledo ohio" in which the singer/songwriter completely trashes the evidently boring town of Toledo....home to honest scales, good bakeries, and people who go to bed at 10pm every night. One of the lines says "you ask how I know of Toledo Ohio, well I spent a week there....one day".

I used to get this feeling sitting in class in high school.......like the day would NEVER end. It felt like someone had forgotten to tell the sun to slip over the horizon and we accidentally just stayed in school for 48 hours without knowing it.

It's exactly the opposite sentiment of these lyrics that would describe the last three years of my life. Kelley and I entered into a new chapter of our lives 3 years ago that I like to label "The Good Old Days"......yes I know that I'm currently living IN what I'm calling a bygone era, but I really have a hunch that when I'm old, I'll look back on these years as the best......actually, I'm hoping that the "The Good Old Days" will include the entire remainder of my days on earth, but who knows right?

So the one bad thing about "The Good Old Days" is that you feel time differently when you're in them. I remember working at Lost Valley Ranch in Colorado and thinking that time moved by different, slower, lazier, but in a good way. Here in "The Good Old Days", life seems to race by like it has somewhere extremely important to get to. I'm trying to fill the time with rock climbing trips, backpacking adventures, lazy canoe trips on summer mornings, and other assorted outings with Kelley and friends to try and make Father Time smoke a big fatty full of lethargy, but I've had limited luck so far. So....it's been great....but it's gone by way too fast.

So in another effort to tranquilize that bearded mythical figure who commands my aging and to give Einstein a fighting chance at convincing more of the world of the theory of relativity, Kelley and I are heading on a road trip this weekend with the simple goal of slowing down and enjoying the 3rd anniversary of our marriage.

I feel that fun times are afoot.

Independence at the hand of tyranny

Happy 4th of July everyone.

The day that represents freedom from taxation without representation, religious oppression, and the long arm of England that reached across the big pond to stick its filthy hand into what WE rightfully owned........

So hopefully by now you've picked up on a little sarcasm....and I would hope so because I'm laying it on pretty thick. Don't get me wrong, I love this country and consider myself spoiled and blessed to be a US citizen with a mortgage, a wife and 2 kids (yes I count my dogs as kids)......but I think it just simply wouldn't be American to be an unconditional patriot.

I HATE the seedy side of our freedom. To say that we live in the land of the free and the home of the brave almost gets my blood boiling every time I hear it. We (the mainstream of America.....Whites, Blacks, Hispanics, Asians, just to name a few non-pc divisions of our culture) enjoy freedom as we know it at the expense of what once was an amazing culture of indigenous tribes that thrived in the US and Canada without an understanding of land ownership or how one man could tell another what rights or lack of rights he has in life.

I won't go on forever because I can feel even the soap box beneath me groaning at the prospect of hearing yet another angry tirade on behalf of Native Americans. Just consider what July 4th must feel like to a poverty-stricken nation whose "sovereignty" is merely lip service to try and patch up old wounds that have festered and refused to heal.

"For the times they are a changin' "

too much before
caught up in "what if's"
careless of life, careless of gifts
do what we can before what we do dies
a moment in time, a restless night.

magic in air...
summer of life...
A best friend, lover
musician, wife...
do what we can before what we do dies
a moment in time, a peaceful night.