Halloween Hatred

Dear Tow Truck Drivers of America,

I hate you. I know that sounds harsh, but it's actually probably an understatement. I really hate you. I don't hate many things, but you are one of the things that I do hate. Thank you for the fifty-eight dollar pita I had for dinner tonight. I wonder how you sleep at night. Your only source of peace must be the fact that your children have food and clothes thanks to your efforts. Or perhaps you are one of those crazy people who gets their jollies from the misery of others. That doesn't diminish my dislike for your kind. The list of harmful things I would like to do to your vehicles is quite long.

Okay, I'm over it. Screw you.

Love,
Dan

Once Was Lost, But Now Is Found

At 8:00 a.m. this morning, right after my combined rehearsal, I got a phonecall from an unknown number asking for Mr. Catcher. After I corrected her on my last name, the caller informed me that she had Jenny! She lives in the same complex from which Jenny ran. She said Jenny just walked right up to her. I immediately left school (luckily I had a thirty minute time where I didn't have THAT much responsibility) and went to get her. I picked her up, thanked her rescuer Katie profusely, and took her home. I gave her another scoop of food (Katie had given her two scoops already) and put her in her crate to rest for the day. I'm sure she's exhausted and just wants to chill. She doesn't seem to be hurt from the car that grazed her. Hopefully she has seen that the grass is indeed not greener on the other side. Rather, the grass is cold, dark, lonely and offers no food.
So Jenny is back. All is right with the world.

Jenny Is Gone

I know that sometimes my words can be dramatic. However, there is no better way to say it. Jenny is gone. Having gone for a short jog, I was on foot when I came to the fence in which she stays every day. I opened it up and let her out, holding on to her collar. I clasped the training collar on her (or so I thought). As soon as she thought I had accomplished this task, she jerked forward. The training collar popped off, and she was free. She ran into the street, got sideswiped by a slowing car, and sped off down a side street. I chased after on foot, as fast as I could given my ankle issue. The next time I saw her she was half a mile down the street. It was the last time I saw her.
Chandler and I drove around in separate cars for about an hour looking for her. But, with her speed and insatiable curiosity, she could be anywhere. We never found her.
I don't know what to think. I don't know if she's hurt. I don't know if she knows her way back home. I don't know if she even cares to come back home. I'm pretty sad. I could never see her again, and I'm already trying to prepare myself for that outcome. As of now, I see my options as: 1) she runs away for good, never to come back 2) she gets hit by a car and dies 3) she finds her way home or 4) someone finds her and calls me. She's a needle in a haystack. I feel hopeless and helpless.

Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind

You know the old saying, "Be careful what you wish for"? I wished for cooler weather, for fall. I got immediate winter. I wore my down jacket this morning! I usually don't get that out until at least Thanksgiving. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful. I love cold weather. I just would have liked a few more weeks (months) of cool, autumn glory. I'm no meteorologist, but I think it's just a "snap", (as in OH SNAP it's cold!).
I turned the heat on in my house for the first time. I'm still waiting on the air that's blowing to become warm and for that familiar stinky-just-turned-on-the-heat-for-the-first-time smell to fill the house.
Heck, if winter's here this early, I'll take a Sam Adams Winter Lager this early. Cheers.

Rock n Rolla

If you know me well, you know I secretly want to be a rock star. I played in a band for several years in middle and high school. In the later iterations of the band, I played electric guitar. I'm not the best electric guitarist, but it's fun to try. I can't play these face-melting solos that hardcore shredders can. Thus, I consider myself a rhythm guitarist. 

I got the opportunity recently to do something I haven't done in over six years. My good friend Eron is the choir director at Auburn High School. His show choir is doing two really rockin' songs that I just got the urge to play on: "Hold the Line" by Toto, and "Breathing" by Yellowcard. I asked him if I could play electric guitar in the show choir band and he answered in the affirmative. At rehearsal tonight, we ran through "Hold the Line" with the choir. It was awesome. It's so much fun playing electric guitar in a band again! The Auburn High show choirs and lab band are having a halloween concert tomorrow night called the "Kookie Concert". The students wear halloween costumes and provide musical entertainment, with cookies to follow. If you're in Auburn and don't have anything to do tomorrow night, come to AHS for the Kookie concert. Bring the kids along. It'll be a great time. What's my costume? I'll be the rockstar with the purple electric guitar. 

He is

These two words have resonated with me all weekend. He is. Through various scenarios this weekend, he is. Here's how:

He is... the hero. Friday night I went to the Auburn High v. Opelika High football game. This is a huge rival game (although it can't touch Hoover v. Vestavia). I heard that out of the last fifteen years, Auburn has defeated Opelika only twice. Auburn was 8-0 and needed to keep the win streak alive. It took quite an effort on their part. Auburn's star quarterback was scrambling all over the place. Eventually, he was brought down hard on his ankle. The crowd collectively gasped. This could mean the end of the game, the streak, the hopes. Not if Calvin Jenkins had anything to say about it. Calvin continued to play, handing the football off to his backs while hobbling on his hurt leg. He marched Auburn down the field to score and go ahead of Opelika with only a couple minutes left. Auburn's defense held strong as time expired, making Auburn 9-0 for the first time ever.

He is... soppin. I went to Syrup Soppin' day at Loachapoka. I took Jenny, sopped some biscuits in cane syrup, perused the homemade crafts, and left. Syrup soppin is always sounds better than it actually is, but it was worth going and I'm glad I did.

He is... chillin. This one refers to me. I spent most of Saturday sitting on the recliner at Lee's watching football and enjoying myself, my friends, and some beverages. When I say "most of Saturday", I mean it. I sat down at around 1:30. I was up several times throughout the day, but for the most part, I sat in that chair for about nine hours. Woah.

He is... back in America. My best friend Daniel and his new wife Mary Catherine are back from their fifty-day, 'round the world honeymoon. Lee and I drove to Birmingham this morning to have lunch with them and our parents before they move to Pasadena next week. Lee and I have recently joked about how, while he was traveling, Daniel slipped out of reality and into legend. We would speak of him as if he was a fairy tale hero that only exists in folklore. Turns out he's real. And he's back. It was so good to see him. Daniel, see you at Christmas: mele kaliki maka.

He is... joy. I had an excellent conversation with Lee on the way back from Bham today. I could try to sum it up for you, but I can't. I wouldn't do it justice. I wish I had just recorded it. I came to some very meaningful conclusions and got more out of that one conversation with my Christian brother Lee than I have from any sermon I've heard in quite a while. Basically, (and I hate even having to boil it down this much) if we (Christians) focus more on having healthy relationships with Christ, we will exude a joy that only Christ can give us. As a result, hopefully, people will notice. As they notice, they will ask. This starts a conversation and hopefully a relationship that could lead to someone accepting Christ for the first time. This only happens through relationships, not through cramming Christ down anyone's throat. I get so frustrated at evangelists who insist on forcing Christ on people. When we have a healthy relationship with Christ, one of the fruits of that relationship is joy. This joy is spreadable, like butter. So, churches, stop with all the other stuff that doesn't really matter. Let's focus on Christ, and spread the butter.

He is... tired. Needless to say, I'm pretty tired from this weekend's events. I will sleep well tonight.

Waxed

When I went to physical therapy Wednesday, Chuck put some super sticky physical therapy tape on the upper part of my ankle. It helped ease the pain of transferring weight from my heel to the ball of my foot. As I was leaving, he told me I could leave the tape on for a few days if I thought it helped the pain. He said it wouldn't be affected by showering. So, I did. I left it on for a couple of days but decided I wanted it off this afternoon. I began peeling the edge of the super sticky physical therapy tape away from my leg when the burning needles began attacking my leg. The tape was placed smack on top of my leg hair. Again, I attempted to remove the tape but had to stop because it hurt so badly. Finally, I called in reinforcements. I got Chandler to rip it off of my ankle in one swift movement. I was so afraid it would only rip halfway off and I would have to endure two rounds of this torture. He counted to three as I gripped the arms of the chair with white knuckles. Then, he pulled. I screamed as hundreds of leg hairs were violently jerked from their fleshly homes. The whole thing came off. It was over. I don't want any more super sticky physical therapy tape.