I'm a MAN!!!!!

I have decided to contribute to the ongoing cultural debate that has spanned centuries and will probably never cease. The debate is over the answer to this question:
What makes a real man?
A friend of mine helped me make a dining room table and professed to his mother that "he is now a man" because he used the miter saw for the first time. Oh the "man dust" was sprinkled on him and he was instantly made a man!!!! (can't you hear the 100 member chior singing hallelujah!!)I think the answer is more simple than one would imagine, and I am more than thrilled to tell you I have found a definitive answer. But before I reveal this ground-breaking, earth-shattering breakthrough, I want to begin looking for the answer to the question by asking a few of my own.
First, is a man made by his courage?
You know, that whole “This is Sparta” thing. "My name is Maximus" Some would say so. Many, in fact. I for one think courage is overrated. Consider the apostle Peter. If he hadn’t been such a coward he never would have been such a shining example of restoration. And I think Peter was quite a man…fisherman, ear-cutter-offer. I don’t really think any man has courage when it comes down to it. Don’t believe me? Put any husband in a situation where he is being called out by his wife for (fill in the blank…forgetting to take out the trash, glancing at the TV during a Victoria’s Secret ad) and watch him squirm like a sniveling, pathetic six-year-old.
Then, is a man defined by his strength?
But what is strength? Being chisled and yoked? Or is it an inner thing–like doing the right thing in a situation when it is difficult to do so? When I was a kid, I saw this girl at the gym doing one day and I think she had like thirteen huge plates on each side of the weight bar. I looked at her upper legs and realized you could fit three of my entire body in one of them. I used the mirrors in the gym for several minutes to get a view of this person from every angle and I did indeed confirm that she was female. I then feared for my life, because I think she caught me doing this “research.” I exited to the “men’s locker room” ironically enough. Run away run away!
No, muscles do not make the man. Inner strength, then? It does take inner strength to be an adult male. Like when I am at a stoplight and the person behind me honks and instead of hitting the gas I stay on the brakes until the light turns yellow, then watch the guy’s expression as he has to wait for the next green at the light behind me as I zoom through the intersection. It also takes great strength to find your way to your destination when you are lost without asking a single solitary human soul just to show your spouse that no, you are not lost, but taking a “short cut.”

What about honor?
To me, this is synonimous with intergrity. It means being the same person in public as in private. I look at Peter Parker and Clark Kent as my shining examples of this concept. If these guys didn’t have skeletons they wouldn’t be super heroes. Not that I am saying leading a double life is good. It isn’t. But every guy has secrets. That’s why we need a cave. Not all secrets are bad by the way. But whose business is it really that my #1 favorite cavetime activity is playing World of Warcraft. I am now going to go ahead and equip my “Epic Axe. “ And a little “Four Wheels of Fury.” (this was just sarcasm.....I enjoy the quiet moments that remind you again of how great God is!)

What about intelligence?
Have you ever seen Sixteen Candles? Of course you have. You know John Cusack’s character. He would not be considered "the man" in most social circles but I for one would because I loved this John Hughes character! I can just see him now with braces and starring at the girls underwear being held high by Anthony Michael Hall. But he would hardly be considered a man because of his smarts!

Is a man defined by the size of his truck tires?
Um…no. He is not. Chances are the guy with the big truck also was also the guy in elementary school that promised you a knuckle sandwich if you did not hand over your Snack Pack. But then again I am probably being judgmental. You may have a big truck and be a swell guy. But maybe, just maybe, you are overcompensating for something. Or maybe you just like making others plummet nine feet to the ground as they exit your vehicle, thus causing severe injury. I for one drive a old small SUV and can still beat you up very badly, big truck guy.

So what about conquests?
Surely a man is a man when he boasts of successful heists while carrying on his back the carcass of dead creatures slew by his own hand while dragging his maiden behind him home to roast his hunting prize.


My dad will have my hide for saying this because he raised me to be a hunter. For some reason when I was twelve years old (sitting in the woods in subzero temperatures staring down the barrel of my rifle at that fuzzy, defenseless rabbit that I could have very easily taken home as a pet) hunting was not my idea of a good time. Killing cute, cuddly things, whether in actuality or metaphorically in reference to locker room talk, does not strike me in any way to be representative of any of the aforementioned qualities of maledom. Yes, I still shot the rabbit. And retired from the sport shortly after I carried the steaming carcass out of the woods and bragged to all my friends about it.


OK, so, none of the above makes a real man, in my opinion.
So what does?
I am now going to tell you, and you are going to be shocked at how much this makes sense.
IF YOU CRY FOR GREAT MOMENTS IN SPORTS YOU ARE A REAL MAN!
That’s it.
That is, if you cry ONLY for great moments in sports. You have to possess the emotional vulnerability of petrified forest to be a true representative of the male species. You cannot even feel the tiniest tug on your heart for anything else. This especially includes tender moments with females, your children, Hallmark movoe or episodes of Extreme Home Makeover. You cannot show the faintest glint of breaking character even when songs like “Wild Horses” (by the Sundays not the Stones) are played around you. There is no reason to shed a tear in any–and I mean any–of life’s circumstances. Except one:
Here is the litmus test. I want you to watch the following three things. If you cry after these you are male. If you do not, you are female:
1. Go to youtube and type in “Autistic Basketball Player.”
2. Watch any Michael Jordan DVD
3. Find a replay of the 1987 college football game between Boston College and Miami when Doug Flutie threw a touchdown pass to Gerard Phelan with no time on the clock to win the game. I saw this live on TV when I was just a kid and I swear it changed my life. It made my eyeballs sweat!











**Author’s note: I do not actually play world of warcraft. But I think that commercial for the Toyota trucks is hilarious. In fact, I don’t think being a man has anything to do with football or sports. And also, I find that when guys are completely out of touch with their emotions it is actually a huge problem (which is why I was making fun of it in this post). Being a man, in truth, has everything to do with having, honor, courage, faith, emotional honesty, and trust in God. Just wanted to clarify. The blog is for your entertainment and the sarcasm is absolutely free!

How do you live your dash?

A gentleman stood up to speak,At the funeral of a friend.

He referred to the dates in his obit,From the beginning till the end.

He stated, first, the date of birth,Spoke the ending date with tears.

But, he said what mattered most of all,Was the “dash” between those years.

For the “dash” represents the span of time,Our friend spent, alive, on earth.

And only those who knew him,Know what that little “dash” is worth.

For it matters not how much we own.The cars… the house… the cash.

What matter most of all in life,Is how we live our “dash”.

Think about this long and hard,As you live and love and laugh.

Is the something you would like to change,About your epitaph?

Can we be less quick to anger?Show appreciation more?

And love the people in our lives,Like we’ve never loved before?

So, greet everyone with a friendly nod,And present them with a smile.

For your “dash” may only last you,For a precious little while.

And when your eulogy is read,And your life’s work is re-hashed;

You’ll be proud of all the things they say. About how YOU lived your “dash”.

Just a thought!

A POSITIVE THOUGHT ?
If God had a refigerator, your
picture would be on it .
If He had a wallet your photo
would be in it .
He sends you flowers every
spring, and a sunrise every morning.
When you want to talk, He’ll listen .
He could live anywhere in the universe and He chose your Heart.
What about the Christmas gift He sent you in Bethlehem ?
Not to mention that Friday at Calvary .
FACE IT, He’s CRAZY ABOUT YOU !

How do I remain calm?

Some of you have seen me recently. Some of you only know me through this page. My emotions recently are quite high! I am EXCITED! I am trying to stay calm but it is very difficult. We will be adopting a newborn next month. There is a lot that could happen that would hurt our plans of bringing home this child. Currently...we have a commitment from a mother to have the child be raised by us. We have a baby room with crib, baby changing table, dresser, rocker and decorations. So our status is excited but scared or scared but excited! Our emotions are going crazy. We want to remain calm in case there is an incident (like she changes her mind about us, she runs away, medical issues or even death) that hurts our chances of bringing home the newborn.

We have much support (with or with out a child). But part of the excitement are the people that support us. They are anxious as well! They have been through this adoption journey of ups and downs with us! I am anxiuos to be a Father! I am actually looking forward to changing diapers. Cleaning my shirt from drool. Keeping a wandering eye on a climbing infant. Going to the store late at night for more diapers and formula. Basically......I am anxious to share my life with he or she!

“Killing them with Carols” and other thoughts on the Christmas season!

I had a job at a major clothing retail chain where they specifically hired me to work the most unholy day of the year, a.k.a. “Black Friday.” I’ve always found the concept of Black Friday kind of strange. To most, it represents the first shopping day of the Christmas season, but I’ve never been one to celebrate Christmas so early. It’s seems so crazy that we give ourselves one day to reflect on what we’re thankful for, while the very next day we jump start into Christmas by maxing out credit cards and fulfilling someone else’s lust for high def T.V.’s or designer unnecessary needs. However, I wasn’t planning on shopping that day, so I was always available to work.

Working retail on Black Friday isn’t so bad. For one thing, employers always over compensate for the rush, so it’s not like the store is understaffed, and despite the news reports of people being trampled by fellow Black Friday hellions, most shoppers are courteous, friendly people just trying to get some shopping done. The thing that bothered me the most was the amount of Christmas Carols that were pumped into the store throughout the day. I know it makes me sound like Scrooge, but you know there’s at least one Christmas song that you rather never hear again (there’s a good chance it’s The Little Drummer Boy, but there’s an even better chance that it’s Jingle Bells).
My problem with the overplayed Christmas songs played at work isn’t with the songs themselves, (accept for “Santa Baby,” which I think should be renamed “The Anthem of Marilyn Monroe”). I just don’t see the point in trying to play Christmas songs all day when there’s only been 20 of them ever written. Sure you can play a few different versions of the same song, but it’s still the same song we’ve been singing since the virgin birth. How is it that it’s been over 2,000 years since the birth of Christ, but there have only been a handful of Christmas songs written since then? Needless to say, while at work I’ve heard “Winter wonderland” sung by Judy Garland, Dean Martin and Annie Lennox all within the same hour, and frankly, I’m tired of that song.
The overplay of Christmas songs at the mall isn’t the only reason I’ve developed a somewhat negative attitude towards them. It also has to do with the number of holiday themed slapstick comedies coming out every year that use these wholesome songs as background music for elaborate and unrealistic blunders throughout the movie. Think about all your favorite scenes from Jingle All the Way, The Santa Clause, or Home Alone. If I remember correctly, While Joe Pesci and Daniel Stern were being tortured by a resourceful little 8 year old, there was a heavenly chorus of angels (or Bing Crosby) joyously accentuating their plight with a beautiful Christmas song.
Now, I know playing “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” while Arnold Schwarzenegger Sumo wrestles Sinbad in the middle of a toy store is supposed to make that scene seem lighthearted and slightly ironic, but now every time I hear that song I’m convinced something really bad is about to happen, and most likely Christmas décor and a comedic actor will be involved. Those movies have brought on a whole new frightful feeling when I hear Christmas songs. When I was working over the weekend, “Jingle Bell Rock” came on, and I was positive that any minute now, Danny Devito was going to crash through the storefront in a red convertible while wearing a Santa suit. At the very least, someone was going to get trampled by a herd of reindeer.

There is one thing I love about Christmas that no retail store or big box office hit can ruin for me: The Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack. No matter how many times I hear the opening song, “Christmas Time is Here,” I instantly feel at peace with the holiday season. It’s jazzy. It’s youthful. It’s perfect, and somehow, it embodies everything I love about Christmas. I must have heard that song 20 times this weekend and never got sick of it. I probably never will.

You know, Charlie Brown is just awesome in general. Sure, he gets stressed during the holidays, but who doesn’t? Plus I like the fact that he’s probably the most self absorbed cartoon character ever made, yet he’s still a cultural icon. if he would’ve written a book chronicalling his social anxiety during “the Christmas tree fiasco,” I definitly would’ve read it.

Before you comment.....I already know that I look a lot like Charlie Brown.....That is a curse that I am willing to live with!