Free SEC Background

Clay Travis from Outkickthecoverage.com needed an SEC background for his Tweeter account.  I'm very good at things like this.  I spent a lot of time working on a free downloadable SEC background for all the SEC fans out there.

You're welcome,

Muffin

Back in Red, White, and Blue

 After a hiatus of nearly 2 years, "Muffin Matters" is returning to Al Gore's interweb.  But, things have changed.

Unfortunately, the founder and writer of the original "Muffin Matters," Casey Sturgill, will no longer maintain the web log or provide content for it.  After numerous encounters with employers, family members, and college professors, he agreed that a non-offensive blog that addressed absolutely nothing of importance was too much of a risk to his professional career.  Thanks a lot, society.  "Political Correctness" has taken a dump on America, and now we're all paying for it.  

Sturgill has sold the rights of the blog to me along with the rights to his nickname, "The Muffin."  Hopefully, you won't be disappointed.  I have many things in common with the former curator of this online publication:

• Jesus is my homeboy
• My favorite movie is Cool Hand Luke
• Eric Church is my favorite singer and songwriter 
• My favorite school is UNC, and my second favorite is Alabama
• I enjoy NASCAR
• My favorite food is pizza
• I like to party 

Unlike Sturgill, I have no problem in telling anyone that has a problem with those things to kiss my ass.

Thanks for reading, America.  I hope this nation gets it balls back soon. 

Speaking of centennials...

When this web log started in June of 2007, I never thought I would continue a publication of such low acclaim and readership for 3+ years...

But here we are--on the verge of 100 posts.  This is post 98, and I'd like to thank some people.  

• First and foremost, thank you Walmart.  Walmart has been a go-to subject when writer's block has judo chopped me to the throat.  My tracking system constantly shows walmart to be the most searched subject that brings unfortunate web surfers to this blog.  
• Next I would like to thank all the un-American hippies out there that make my blood boil.  The pure anger and rage that hippies stir deep in my soul is enough to fuel my web logging for another 500 or 600 posts.
• Thanks to all the psychos out there who have been angered enough to accost me via e-mail and blog comments.  It's good to know someone cares--even if they hate everything about what I do here.
• Thanks to my friends and family for the hilarious suggestions and ideas you've thrown my way the last 3 years.  The most fun I have is when I'm writing about a topic someone else suggested.
• Thanks to New York, Virginia, Texas, and California for keeping my readership numbers respectable.  The tracking program tells me that New York, NY; Alexandria, VA; Houston, TX; and Los Angeles, CA provide me with the most hits.  I don't know who you people are, but thanks for reading.  The people in L.A. probably view this site like patrons view monkeys at the zoo...They probably read and say to themselves, "look at this primitive creature using tools like the net web to express his backward ideas and offensive values."  The people in New York are probably just shocked that people in Alabama have the internet, so they check in all the time just out of curiosity.  
• Lastly, thank you Microsoft "Paint" for giving me the ability to create the most fantastic photo-illustrations on the face of the planet to accompany many of my posts. 

Save the Date

I've got a "Save the Date" more important than any magnetic wedding announcement on your fridge. 

July 4, 2076.  The frickin' tricentennial, baby.  Simple math tells us that most of us probably won't make it to the tricentennial.  Dates of birth, life styles and life choices make the likelihood for some much less than for others.  For me, it's the only thing that would be cool about being 91years old.  I give myself a near 0 % chance of making it that far, but if I do, I'm going to set off enough fireworks to singe everyone's eyebrows within a 2-mile radius.  

As a fan of America, the reasons for getting pumped about this date should go without saying.  But aside from celebrating 300 years of independence from those pricks on the other side of the pond, I'm curious to see what fantastic coinage the US mint thinks up to celebrate the event.  Of course, the United States may not exist in 2076, but if it does, you can guarantee the mint is going to be busy. 

In 1975, the US mint had three separate $5,000 prizes up for grabs for whoever could come up with the best designs for the bicentennial quarter, half dollar, and silver dollar.  Jack L. Ahr submitted the design of the colonial drummer for the bicentennial quarter.  Fantastic.  Maybe I'll submit an idea for the tricentennial quarter design way ahead of time in hopes of winning a prize for that contest.  You know, something classy and American like Dale Earnhardt Sr. driving the number 3 Goodwrench car with an outstretched hand and a middle finger directed at an etching of Great Britain.  Who knows?  I'll keep working on it.    

Source: UNC to pursue Mike Gundy

As a former journalist and graduate from UNC's school of Journalism and Mass Communication, I'd like to briefly put on my reporting shoes and pass along information that is as good as gold.  I'm about 99.99% sure that 0-100% of this information is 100% accurate.  In other words, take it to the bank and share it with friends.

A source of a source who has been described as a former, disgruntled AP reporter's, son's classmate's step uncle has passed along the following information to Muffin Matters:

Butch Davis will "resign" soon, and by "resign" I'm told that means he will be "fired."  Key UNC athletic department heads have reportedly began securing passports in order to go on a search for former UNC standout, Darian Durant.  Durant was last seen playing quarterback for the Saskatchewan Roughriders of the Canadian League.  Durant is apparently number one on the list to fulfill interim coaching duties while Butch Davis starts the application process for the Seattle Seahawks to work under fellow d-bag, Pete Carroll.  

It has also been said that UNC officials have already thrown together a search committee for UNC's next head football coach.  Sources confirmed that Mike Gundy, current Oklahoma State head coach, is the top candidate for UNC's position.  Gundy, who gained cult status among the 18-40 year-old male demographic, has led the OSU cowboys to two straight 9-4 seasons and four straight bowl appearances starting in 2006.  Aside from his mastery of the English language, good looks, and press conference charm, Gundy was a standout quarterback at OSU who led the Cowboys to three straight 10-win seasons and two bowl wins in the 80s. 

When asked for his thoughts about reports linking him with the upcoming UNC job opening, Gundy responded that, "the reports are garbage!  And the blogger, that let them come out, is garbage!"................................

Sources now tell Muffin Matters that the new top candidates are Tommy Tuberville, Mike Ditka, anyone closely related to Nick Saban, Lou Holts, and Andy Griffith.

Don't shoot the messenger; give him a high five.

You're welcome.

American News and Notes

I'm afraid Muffin Matters has been neglected as a result of the inception of Every Day I Think Things.  There's no excuse for this, and I apologize.

So what's going on in America?  BULLET POINTS: 

• Football season is about to start.  American Football season, that is.  There are digital countdown clocks in nearly all bars and grills here in Tuscaloosa, Alabama.  The natives are more excited than OJ Simpson at a Gun and Knife Show.
• Barack Obama went for a swim in the Gulf to show Americans that it was indeed safe.  But, the visit came on the tail-end of shark week, so I don't expect attendance to increase. 
• The Cleveland Metroparks Zoo is currently showing off their finest new exhibit:  The Scoop on Poop!  It's about animal dookey--the biology of it, and how animals use it for other purposes. I share this because I think fecal matter is funny, and I'm saddened that it's such a taboo subject in American society.  Cleveland Metroparks Zoo has taken a step in the right direction.
• Have you ever heard people talk about how California could break off of the continent because of earthquakes?  I have!  Not so fast say "scientists" from some school named 'Berkely.'  Arnold Schwarzeneger could have held the state to the rest of the country with his bulging biceps, anyway.  To be clear, I have 6 or 7 really good friends that either live in, or are from Cali.  I never wanted the state to literally sink into the ocean, but a trip out to sea wouldn't have been bad.  
•  Alex Rodriguez hit his 600th home run on Wednesday, August fourth...No one cared.
• Radio and TV reports revealed that Nick Saban ate a Little Debbie Oatmeal Cream Pie this evening to supplement his dinner.  4.6 million Alabama natives immediately updated their "Where's Nicky and What's He Doing?" log books. 
• Lastly, to class up this joint, I will no longer refer to this site as a blog.  It's a 'Web Log', suckers.  Classic and regal, just like a gourmet muffin smacking you in the face to start your day.

God bless America.  We'll see you out there. 

No explanation needed

Driving through South Carolina last weekend, I see this at a gas station.  If this doesn't strike you as some of the finest Americana imaginable, get off my web log--immediately. 

It's the Nature Boy, Ric Flair!  The best wrestler ever.  The wheeling, dealing, kiss-stealing, champion from Charlotte, NC.  And he's teamed up with South Carolina for what?  A scratch of game!  I tried to buy one, but they said you can't pay for lottery tickets with debit cards...Lame-O. 

Muffin Cast: The Big Announcement - Part 1

John Stillman returns to the site, joined by former UNC Club Baseball superstar, Kyle Lang.  We exchange pleasantries, and I then make the big announcement.  I also discovered a website with free music....I love the opening of this podcast:  Click and prepare to be blown away

This and That

The lack of posting around America's holiday, July 4th, is regrettable.  I hope your Uncle Sam Jam was great, and I hope you enjoyed enough burgers/hotdogs/homemade ice cream to make you puke.  I also hope you got to witness large, colorful, projectile explosive displays.  Various things to get to that are not related.  I think bullet points will be the most efficient way to attack this:

•  American flag swimming trunks and bathing suits are becoming more popular.  I've seen 4 friends and 2 summer camp kids wearing American flag-themed bathing suits.  Awesome.  Keep up the good work, America.
• I still haven't watched a minor league baseball game this summer.  The last time I did something that un-American was when I agreed to end a pick-up basketball game in a tie...which brings me to my next bullet.
• A few critics have pointed out my failure to mention the World Cup and the United States' performance in the World Cup.  Well America didn't win, and they didn't have a great chance, either.  And why would I talk about the World Cup on this site?  Does anyone out there really think it fits the mission or the goals of this site?  The answer is no.
• LeBron James.  What the heck is wrong with Americans and especially the media?  Why in the heck did people give that dude that much coverage for signing with a basketball team.  It's a game.  A daggum game.  I thought I could flip over to MSNBC to avoid the useless commentary on James, but no.  They were talking about James and the Miami Heat instead of tea parties, BP, the economy, and Al Gore's whereabouts.
• I've got 2 awesome peeps lined up for a podcast that should be posted tomorrow night.  Keep a look out.  It'll be fun.

Google Don't Lie

 Google provides a free online website tracking service called Google Analytics to anyone whose site does not exceed 500,000 hits per month...I barely stay under that quota.  Anyway Google Analytics tells me everything:  the number of people visiting my site, the location of people visiting my site, the time they stay here, the amount of pages they check out, etc.  It also tells how they got here...This is the good part.

Most people get here through links from carolinawatercooler.com or Facebook.  A fair amount get here by directly typing in the address (awesome).  Many get here by Google searches, and that's where it gets good.  Here are just a few of the searches that led some unfortunate souls to this blog.  NONE of this is made up.  Seriously, there are actually people out there who searched the following topics.

"Ice Cream!" the man shouted, "come get your icecream!" - This person undoubtedly got forwarded to the story about ice cream truck turf wars.  And I bet they were very disappointed when they got there.
  
Muffin and female body part- Oh my...I will leave it at that.  This is a clean blog.  

Walmart ruined my life- Preach it, brother.  Preach it.  I feel the pain of the one that searched that.  It's like they were hoping Google could be their psychologist or confidant.  Not quite how it works.  I'm sorry.

Lady American Talladega Mattress- What?  I have no idea what the heck that is, but I want one.


if a person having cough and cold eats 6 to 7 ice creams a day then what can cause? - Who needs syntax or coherent statements?  This search was awesome, and I'm delighted this person got sent to my blog because much like their search, my blog generally makes no sense.

common muffin faults and their causes - The muffin has no faults.  Got it?

what if i failed walmart assessment?-  I'm glad you asked.  No sweat.  It happened to me, and just look at where I'm at! .............

walmart assessment test answers- Apparently that same person is now going to cheat.  Bravo.

john wayne ice cream truck song- Listen to me very carefully.  Whoever searched this, you need to contact me as soon as possible.  I don't know if it's someone out there playing a practical joke because they know my blog is tracked or what. BUT, if a John Wayne ice cream truck song exists, I need to know about it.  

America Exposed: Ice Cream Truck Turf Wars

It's a problem that's been swept under the collective American rug for nearly a century.  Nobody talks about it because the reality is just too disgusting.  Every spring and summer day, nearly 1.1 million kids are deprived of ice cream because of it...You know what it is.  That's right:  Ice cream truck turf wars. 

In 1919, an Iowa store owner named Christian Nelson invented the choco-covered "ice cream bar" (History of Ice Cream, 2010).  In 1920, a heartless business man named Harry Burt copied the idea and called it the Good Humor "Ice Cream Bar" (Good Humor, 2010).  Shortly thereafter, Burt and his band of hooligans decided to distribute their dairy concoction by way of white "Ice Cream Trucks."  The rest is history--bloody and ugly history.  Good Humor ruled the frozen dessert roost and ruled the streets for years before others decided to get in on the mobile ice cream distribution business.  Next thing you know, ice cream guys started staking their claims in communities and parks nationwide.  Behind the Mafia, the Bloods, and the Crips, it was the "Ice Cream Man" that you didn't want to cross.  As long as you were buying, you weren't in danger.  But, as soon you as you decided to try your fortune at frozen milk solicitation on wheels, you're life would hang by a thread.  You don't sell ice cream in another man's hood--his domain, his wheelhouse, his special spot, or on his TURF.  I was unaware of these facts until this weekend.

Saturday, I saw the best and worst of Americana while working at Sokol Park in Tuscaloosa, Alabama.  It was a beautiful day.  Low to mid 80s, light and variable cloudiness, low humidity, kids playing softball and baseball, and families spending time together.  It was perfect.  It appeared it was getting better.  Just as everyone was starting to realize how dehydrated, hot, and hungry they were becoming, a sound in the distance brought hope...

I've noticed that when people hear something fantastic and awesome, their reaction is identical to when they hear something potentially threatening or deadly such as thunder or sirens.  At the first echo of an ice cream truck Saturday, many people stopped what they were doing.  They cocked their heads just slightly and hushed their friends with a single finger extended to notify them of something significant.  Although filled with excitement, their faces suggested concern.  I saw a small child stop his game of catch with his dad in mid-throw just to listen.  His eyes got big and his right ear turned towards the sound in highly animated anticipation.

Next was the moment of discovery and a confirmation.  Eddie Murphy describes the moment of ice cream  truck discovery best in (warning: lots of needless profanity, but funny if you can get past it) this video.  I saw some spectacular reactions.  One girl who was probably 3 or 4 started running towards the park gate with both arms in the air and very little stability in her lower half.  I was standing right behind a set of grandparents who were watching over their grandson while his brother played.  The younger brother was upset about something, and when the ice cream truck showed up, Gramps said, "Looky here now.  This will make you feel better.  Here's some money.  Got get'chu some ice cream.  And grab us a soda."  That wasn't the best, though.  There was an AWESOME 7 or 8 year old boy who had apparently seen some re-runs of the 70s show "Good Times."  As soon as he heard the ice cream truck, he did his best Jimmie Walker (Check out Jimmie on Good Times in this clip).   The kid started shouting, "DY-NO-MITE!  DY-NO-MITE!  DY-NO-MITE!"  The best part is that he was simultaneously doing his best Tiger Woods fist pump in sync with each running stride and with each syllable as he ran towards the truck.

"Kool Moes Ice Cream and Frozen Treats" had saved the day.  The driver rolled in blaring "Mary had a Little Lamb" over the truck speakers.  There were no words of course, so for all I know, the actual song Kool Moe was playing could have been "Mary had a Sno-Cone" or "Mary had a Drumstick."  Maybe, "Mary had a 3-toned, 3-flavored, Firecracker."  Who knows?  Anyway, the driver, who I would later discover is actually named Randy, also utilized the speakers to announce, "It's hot.  Real hot.  Come get your ice cream, cold sodas, cold gatorades, and cold water!" 

Things were good, but not for long.

What was that we heard in the distance?  Could it be?  Yes, another Ice Cream truck!  It had to be a good thing, right?  Right?  I mean, 2 hawkers of Flinstone Push-ups are better than 1, aren't they?  In short, the answer is no.  But I will give you the answer "in long."

The second truck to roll in was owned by "Tuscaloosa Special Service Ice Cream."  Oddly, this truck's speakers were blaring the "Happy Birthday" song.  Doesn't this alienate 364/365ths of the potential clientele?  Again, I was assuming, though.  There were no words to go along with the melody.  Perhaps the song was, "A Chocolate Eclair for you!" or "Mickey Mouse ice cream to you!"  In my mind, that song would go like this (to the tune of Happy Birthday in case you've lost me here): "Mickey Mouse ice cream to you! Mickey Mouse ice cream to you! It will smear on your faaa-ace! And it'll melt on you too!"

Anyway, 2 ice cream trucks are not better than 1.  Believe you, me.  "Special Service" rolled up in the "hood" and the driver said to Kool Moe, "I thought we settled this, Randy..." 

Randy immediately responded, "We didn't settle jack, Roger.  Now move along.  I'm busy."

The parents and kids were split.  Some were turned off by Roger's apparent invasion and his belittling tone. Others saw that Roger was offering waters 2 for 1 and dropped their allegiance to Ralph quickly.  Still others realized that this was just the beginning of this little spat, and it was time to leave.

"We settled it, Randy.  We settled it, and you know it.  Sokol Park is mine.  I don't want to get out of this truck."  ....  For the remaining patrons who hadn't yet realized -ish was about to get real, they now knew it was time to evacuate. 

"You would ruin a perfect day wouldn't you?" asked Randy. "Who cares about all these people, right?  God forbid I sell ice cream at Sokol Park."

While everyone else looked on with disgust, I inched closer because I knew you folks would love to hear about it.
 
"The problem, Randy (belittling pause), is that Sokol Park is mine when they aren't running concessions.  You agreed to it.  Now leave before I make you." 

Crunch time!  What would Randy do?????? OMG!!!!

"Fine!  ATTENTION EVERYONE," yelled Randy.  "I will sell everything for 25 cents off across the street.  It's worth the walk!"

One elderly lady applauded.  It was CLASSIC.  Thankfully this Ice Cream Truck turf battle didn't end badly.  My fear is that this is the exception, though. Not the rule...

"Sources"
1.  Wikipedia (2010, May 16).  Good Humor.  Retrieved from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Good_Humor
2.  Bellis, M. (2010, May 16). History of ice cream. Retrieved from http://inventors.about.com/od/foodrelatedinventions/a/ice_cream.htm

Breaking down Talladega-Part 1: "I was thinking about it...That could have been one of the most awesome experiences I've ever had." -Will Speight

After years of dreaming and planning, a NASCAR dream was finally fulfilled.  We got to see a race at Talladega. 

I'll get all the boring NASCAR details out of the way first for those of you that aren't enlightened to the greatest spectator sport in America.  And as the greatest spectator event in America, it should go without saying that by default, it's the greatest spectator sport in the world.  Anyway, the camping was as well organized and as well mapped out as I have seen. Easy entrance, easy exit, good times.  The speedway was incredibly clean and nice, and there wasn't a bad seat in the house.  Also, Talladega has far and away the best sound system I've heard at a speedway.  Kevin Harvick won the race, and I'm pumped for Richard Childress Racing.  Also, maybe Harvick's wife didn't beat him after a race for a change...I've heard she's feisty.

Now, on to the stuff that really matters.  How can I describe the atmosphere?  It was like Mardi Gras met the TV program "Hee Haw" met a gun and knife show. 

The absolutely insane Cory Willis and the certified lunatic Will Speight met the NASCAR newbie Jon Handy and myself at the Wal-Mart in the city of Talladega.  We did have to secure some basic provisions, but I think mostly, any NASCAR weekend should start at Wal-Mart.  The wide array of NASCAR clothing and head gear led Speight to say, "If we don't get out of here soon, I'm going to spend all of my money on Dale Jr. gear."  So, we expedited.  Jon, who in addition to being a finance PhD student, is also a photographer, an avid reader, a skateboarder, a carpenter, and a chef ran down a basic checklist to make sure we had the food items we needed.  Chuck made sure we had all the "water" we needed, and after that we were ready to go to the speedway campground.  When we started to set up, Cory realized that some rat scoundrel had taken the tarp and other key accessories for his tent.  Soooo, Speight and I went back to Wal-Mart partly to tie up loose ends but mostly because two trips to Wal-Mart in a day are better than one.  On the way back, we bought firewood from a very large bald man on the side of the road who had a slight majority of his teeth left.  "That guy up there will charge you 5 more dollars for less firewood" he said.  "He's a jerk.  Ya'll from North Carolina?  I love Dale Jr."  What else could a man say to make us trust him?  He has 2 customers for life.  To the campsite we returned.

Our neighbors on one side were from Alabama.  To the other side, we had new friends from Indianapolis.  We all liked to party, so we ended up in the "North Camping Lot" which is always set aside for that...seriously.  Go to talladegasuperspeedway.com. Check out the camping information. It will ask "What will you will be camping in?"  Then "Where are your seats in the speedway?"  Then..."What kind of atmosphere are you looking for?"  Your answer choices for this question are: 

A.  I prefer to party with my friends and camper neighbors.  (Bingo)
B.  I am bringing my family and we are making a family vacation out of this trip.  (really?  ill-advised vacation)
C.  I like to have a good time, but I also like to sleep to get ready for the race.   (lame-o)

We picked A.  Duh.  You can tell that the North Camping Lot is set aside for partying because it is adjacent to I-20 and no sleep is possible unless it is induced via low sobriety levels, medication, or a pop-knot to the forehead because you stared at some maniac's wife the wrong way.  Truckers and people that thought they were clever honked all day and all night. 

Right as camp got set up and the canopy was secured above our royal lawn chairs, it began to rain.  Beverages and a friendly game of Spades would be all she wrote for Friday night.  The rain got harder and harder, and finally at 2 or 3 in the AM, Chuck, Speight and myself called it a night.  Jon had peeled off a bit earlier and had the foresight to sleep in his car...The rest of us should have been so lucky.  I've never tried to sleep in a kiddy pool, but I think if I did, it would be pretty much like our camping experience that Friday night.  For at least an hour, the 3 of us in the tent exchanged pleasantries such as:
- "My underwear is wet."
- "Well, this couldn't be much more miserable."
- "This rules."
- "My socks are wet."
- "Who's idea was this?"
-  "I'm having a great time."
- "Do you think we'll make it?"
- "Is that a fish swimming in the corner?"
- "My entire bag of clothes for the whole weekend is wet."
- "Could you knock me out so I can get some sleep?  Seriously.  Just hit me right here (pointed to temple) as hard as you can."

Now, it may seem like our camping experience was awful...But friends, this was just Friday night.  So much was yet to come.

'Casey at the Library': A loose adaptation of 'Casey at the Bat'

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the studying man that day,

The library was full of losers, who had just computer games to play.

And then when the "Silent Zone" filled up, and the private rooms did the same,

A feeling of anger and resentment made it hard for Casey to stay tame.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair; The rest-

Clung to the hope that spring's eternal in the naive college student's breast.

They thought, "if only Casey could legally get a hold of these brats-

He'd use tear gas and fisticuffs to shut their annoying traps."

But cultural norms prevented Casey, as did also silly laws,

The former, a joke, the latter a forestall to broken jaws.

So upon the quiet and afflicted student body, grim melancholy sat;

For there seemed little chance of Casey laying one out on the mat.

 But then the librarian let loose a yell to the wonderment of all,

And Ted, the security guard walked his way down the hall.

When the dust had lifted, and students saw what had occurred,

 Three pricks had been thrown out from the loud and noisy herd.

Then from 90 or so obnoxious students, there rose an angry mood,

They were here to talk and laugh, but mostly to be rude.

So they protested the actions of the honorable library staff,

This led to an increase in noise; at least by one and a half.

This was Casey's best and only chance, chaos had ensued,

It was likely no one would notice, if some loud-mouths left battered and bruised.

So he finally gave up on his studies and closed up all of his books,

He started doing calisthenics and giving dirty looks.

He wanted the dude with the loud iPod and speakers before he took on the rest,

That friggin' dude that had been beatboxing audibly to Ludacris and Kanye West.

He got up, set his sites and slowly started walking that way, 

His studying had been ruined, but this would make Casey's day.

Casey got to the table and grabbed the fella's music system,

He said, "no talky talky, homeboy; just sit there and listen."

The dude didn't know what to do as his jam box got turned off,

He did as Casey said, not letting out a peep or a cough.

As this dude's lecture was about to end,

A swarm of pesky students out of nowhere, came in

Casey was just about to finish his just and worthy job,

But the unthinkable was happening; a daggum flash mob. 

Un-rattled, Casey tried to finish what he had started,

There was no way, even in his haste he would be out-smarted.

With fire in his eyes, he raised the I-pod and speakers above his head,

After one more motion, this stinking noise machine would be dead...

Oh, somewhere in this favored land, obnoxious students get their due,

They're punished, expelled, written up, or given a beating to.

And somewhere men like Casey can put rude people in their place,

But not in that library, not on that day and not in that particular space.

When Casey had raised the speakers above his tiny head,

An officer of the law spotted him from his lazy stead.

"That one's part of the flash mob!" the officer did shout.

And before the deed was done, little Casey got thrown out.

The Truth: My religion, My politics, My thoughts on women

     When I first started this blog about 3 years ago, I had a simple plan.  I would talk about Americana; sometimes in complete sincerity, but most times tongue and cheek.  The rules were simple:  No politics.  No religion.  An no discussion of the intricate workings of the female brain.  The reasons were simple.  Politics can start a fight.  With religion, it's hard to tell who's right.  And with girls.  Do we really need to get into the many ways one can go wrong talking about women?  I didn't think so.
    Well, rules are meant to be broken, and I've been compelled to break all 3 here today.  When some of you get done reading this, you may not ever come back.  When some of you get done reading this, it won't surprise you at all.  When some of you read this, you won't give a crap about what was said...which is usually the case, so I can handle that.
    So why have I decided to break all 3 rules at once?  The answer is simple...They were put in place on a poor pretense.  The reason I wanted to stay away from those 3 subjects is because they may cause people  not to like me or cause them to think less of me.  Additionally, they might detract from readership...God forbid my readership falls from 7 to 4 faithful people out there!
     I couldn't take that then, but I can tonight.  And tomorrow, I may regret it for a second, but I know it's the right thing to do.   None of this is easy because I have fundamental differences from some folks who will read this.  It is what it is.  But, former Burlington Indians manager, Kevin Higgins told me one thing that I'll never forget in his office one night after a long baseball game.  He said, "Don't ever worry about whether or not people like you.  All that matters is that they respect you."  For too long, I have been the other way around.  It's time to get real.
    Religion:  I believe in Jesus Christ with every fiber of my being.  I was led to the cross in middle school when I realized I was worthless and useless without Him.  High school and college were challenging.  My faith would wane, and many times, I would straight up deny my affiliation with Christ.  For friends, for popularity, or for the sake of avoiding conflict or awkwardness, I would deny it.  Occasionally I still fall into that trap, but I continue to be pumped with boldness, and I intend to use it.  How can I explain the Holy Spirit to someone who hasn't yet chosen or had an opportunity to receive it?  I can't.  All I know is that God had enough grace for me to let me experience it; and it is phenomenal.  Generally, I have no doubts.  Science is science and it may appear to fly in the face of scriptures, but I would simply say that I base my faith on Jesus who died...and then rose three days later.  This man was dead.  Hospital "code blue."  He kicked the bucket, bought the farm, went to a skeleton slumber party, took a trip to "Glory", perished, expired, etc. etc.  And then...3 days later, the women went to tomb and they saw that something had happened.  " 'Don't be alarmed,' he said.  'You are looking for Jesus of Nazarene, who was crucified.  He has risen.  He is not here.  See the place where they laid him.' " (Mark 16:6-7).  So this man died, and then rose, and numerous historical documents verify encounters with Jesus both before and after his supposed resurrection.  It was enough to start quite a stir.  People believed then, and I believe now.  So if I think that this dude who died and then came back to life is for real...clearly I think science might not always apply.  Right there, I may have lost some of you reading.  But I will tell you this: to think that trusting natural law and modern science is something that doesn't require faith, is false.  If you trust science, you have faith in that.  The fact is when something arises that isn't currently explainable, the world will tell you that it's only a matter of time and that undoubtedly it can be figured out.  In many cases that has been true, but can everything be explained through science?  We take for granted the simple thing called LIFE.  They won't duplicate that one.  You can clone animals until you pass out, but scientists have not come close to creating life.  And yet, they will tell you that it can be figured it...eventually.  In my opinion, a belief that natural and scientific law are without fault and always true can not come without a faith in it.
     Occasionally, I do have doubts about God's plan.  I struggle with suffering around the world.  I had serious questions last week when a blessed co-worker explained to me that her daughter was taken from her by a brain tumor when the girl was only 14.  I have doubts about God's plan when I remember that the majority of the world lives in severe poverty, depression, and danger.  I had doubts when one of the greatest guys I've ever known got killed on the side of the road while he was with North Carolina's basketball team in the NCAA tournament. How can we/I rationalize these things with an all-knowing, all-loving God?  Paul did it pretty well.  He said, "However, I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me--the task of testifying to the gospel of God's grace" (Acts 20:24).  Look at what he's saying.  We have nothing.  We are nothing.  We don't matter unless we've got Him.  So guess what?  We're all on equal footing.  Jason Ray, who died to soon by the world's standards; the poor and oppressed; the grieving; the fortunate; the rich; the famous; the living...We all have nothing without Him.  A quick aside: Jason Ray was full of God's love, and I've never once felt sorry for him, because if anyone ever got the most out of their life in that short a time period, it was Jason Ray.  He finished the race.
   Moving on to the non-believers favorite critique:  the Christian hypocrites.  We believe these things, and yet we sin.  Some Christians murder, steal, commit adultery, drink heavily, practice sexual immorality, lie, pull for Duke or Auburn, etc.  How ridiculous we are.  That's a great argument.  However, I would point you to scripture again.  2 Samuel, chapter 11. The great and blessed King David spotted a beautiful woman...a married woman.  He sent for her, they got busy, and as if that wasn't enough David had a special treat for the woman's husband, Uriah..."In the morning David wrote a letter to Joab and sent it with Uriah.  In it he wrote, "Put Uriah in the front line where the fighting is fiercest.  Then withdraw from him so he will be struck down and die" (2 Samuel 11: 14-15).  David goofed, and yet he was absolutely considered a man of God.  In fact Paul preached that God said, " 'I have found David son of Jesse a man after my own heart; he will do everything I want him to do'” (Acts 13:22).
    And what about good ol' Paul?  He wasn't always so good.  When he was still named Saul, he persecuted the Christians as relentlessly as anybody. He would even have the family members of Christians stoned.  He would watch.  He probably participated.  And yet he turned out to be perhaps the greatest preacher of the gospel the world has ever seen.  Jesus came into his life.
     Noah drank too much.  Peter denied Jesus 3 daggum times in one day.  King Solomon liked to party...way too much and way too inappropriately. Yet all these folks were some of God's most useful tools. 
    What I'm telling you is that if you're looking for perfect Christians, you will never find them.  If you're looking for a perfect Jesus, he's always been here.
    Girls:  With reasonable certainty, I'm thinking there's going to be at least one person out there reading this thinking, "This ought to be good."
     Where do I start?
     You know that gene that most people have that allows them to have normal relationships with the opposite sex?  It's the same gene that stops most people from saying things that offend the opposite sex on a regular basis.  It's the same gene that allows most people to be comfortable around the opposite sex.  It's the gene that allows most people to get close to the opposite sex via lots of hugging and kissing. Yeah, that gene is a little messed up in me.  Any awful thing you think you've said to your girlfriend or boyfriend, I've said worse to some girl.  Any stupid thing you've said to a girlfriend, boyfriend, or person of interest, I have undoubtedly said worse to some girl.  Any way to avoid, get out of, sabotage, or spoil a good thing, I've done it...twice, probably.  And the hugging and kissing. Believe it or not, I've done my share. But I'm certain it's looked like a train wreck and left most of the ladies slightly disappointed, confused, or offended.  At the same time, I truly thank God for my bumbling, stumbling ways.  It's kept me out of lots of trouble.  When I've been out on the town or at parties where the hormones are flowing just as freely as the booze, my bumbling, stumbling, terrible-comment-making ways have kept me out of beds I shouldn't have been in.
    What am I saying?  I'm saying that I'm a virgin...I always have been.  Some of you are undoubtedly laughing and saying, "no crap."  Some of you are probably saying, that dude lied to me.  Full disclosure, once, some of my body parts were places they shouldn't have been, and those places involved a female.  But, that was it.  I've lied, I've told stories that weren't true, I've avoided conversations without stating the truth.  For what?  To look cool?  To keep friends?  Too avoid embarrassment?  Fact is, I'm already not that cool, and I doubt any of my good friends would ditch me because of this.  Why should I be embarrassed?  The world tells me I should be, but my Lord doesn't.  The only bad part about this is that me and that dreadful Florida QB Timmy Teebow have something in common; makes me wanna puke.
     I decided way back I would wait until marriage to have sex.  I know it's the right call.  Rarely have I been so sure of something God wanted to get across to me.  Whenever I get married, it will have been worth the wait. And to avoid any confusion, I don't condemn anyone AT ALL for any sexual encounters they've had.  We've all made mistakes, we've all got problems.  We all need God's grace and forgiveness for something. 
     Politics:  Here's another shocker. I'm a bit right of center.  BUT, it's not about left and right, it's about right and wrong.  I do believe Liberals and Conservatives both mean well.  Fact is whether you want to admit it or not, both sides want the same thing:  peace and prosperity.  How they go about it is different though.  I do tend to prefer less government involvement because in my opinion the only large project they've ever successfully and efficiently accomplished, in my opinion, was the Dwight D. Eisenhower Interstate system.  The key is efficiency for me.  I prefer keeping the government out, the left prefers keeping government in.  Are we really that different?  No.  We're not.  So stop yelling at your liberal or conservative acquaintances.  Ask them what they want...what they really want, and it will sound eerily similar to what you want.

I'm not quite done, but that's all for now.  Thanks for the patience. If I'm someone you didn't think I was, I'm sorry for that.  But I feel a weight has been lifted, and there was a purpose for my compulsion to write tonight.  Later, taters!