My Robbie?

What is it in our self indulgent ego-centric human minds that makes us lose touch with family that we hold so dear? What gets us to that point where people we could never envision living without become next to strangers for all intents and purposes? My cousin Shelly put it very succinctly when she said, "I didn't know how much I missed you." That's the point exactly. I get so wrapped up in what I'm doing and whatever's important to me that I lose touch with people who have greatly influenced my life, and whom I love very deeply. Should the blame be thrown at the feet of American rugged individualism, or our busy ever so micro-managed schedules? No, I don't think so. Understand I am not asking, "How is it that friends and family lose touch?" Rather, I am asking how is it possible that someone who is an integral part of your life could in a few short years be all but a stranger.

My cousin Robbie was an amazing man, but what's more he was an amazing best friend to me. When the older brothers ran off and left us, it was no big thing, we had something better to do because Robbie was always more creative than them. We found RC Cola cans that had baseball players on them by the hundreds back in the woods, we snuck around the house like ninja's stalking their prey. He told me about girls, drugs, and alcohol. We picked up cigarette butts and acted like we were smoking. We'd go to Grandma's basement and spit on the pot belly stove and watch the spit bubble, or grab the staple gun and shoot staples at each other, then call our beds for sleeping that night. We ran upstairs from Grandma's basement because the Dukes of Hazard was coming on. When it was over we went down to the Sheep Shed in Luttesville, Mo to put on old worn out skates and play shuffle board in an abandoned Main Street store front that was used as a youth rec center. Sometimes there were girls and he would show me how easy it was to talk to them, or other times he would just be the coolest guy in the room because he didn't care what anyone thought of how we played pool, in skates, with a shuffle board pole.

He was ten months older than me and I shadowed him every chance I got. The most amazing thing was we never had a cross word between us. It wasn't set up that way for him and me. There was no rivalry, not because I knew I would lose, but because we were the best of friends and we loved to be in eachothers company. We valued every second we had together. I soaked up all the worldly advice his 10 months of seniority had brought him. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would ever grow apart from someone so influential in my life.

Robin called me on Thursday and I could tell in her voice something was wrong. She said Robbie committed suicide, I went numb at the wheel and said, "What, Who" she said, "Robbie committed suicide." All my feelings from childhood came rushing back in an instant, and I thought My Robbie, my mentor in all things adolescent? It was and is true. He is gone, and my heart breaks for his children, his parents and his siblings. I know his children in name only. How is that possible, what is wrong with me?

It was a very difficult thing to stand over that casket and look at my Robbie's face. I could not contain the grief in those moments and I lost control as looked at this shell who was the boy I loved so deeply. I grasped his hand and wept saying I was sorry for letting us grow so far apart. Sorry for not calling or emailing. I just wanted to talk to him and make him laugh, and have him say something funny then laugh at his own joke. We shared so many formative moments together that it is unconscionable to me that we ever grew apart. But, we had, and his hands were cold and had no life. I was left with the weeping of his family and the haunting wales of his beautiful 12 year old daughter. Those cries were too much. They were the true lament of deep and utter despair. I won't let this happen again. I will not let myself become so far detached from the people I love. God Forgive me!

Remember When

Remember you were fourteen and I was fifteen,

We had no concept of what was beginning,

But He had a plan, and we were in love,

And that was all we cared about.

Remember how I loved to make you laugh?

To this day, that laugh makes everything better,

And I still love to hear it.

Remember how cute your smile was with braces,

Your smile still gives me butterflies.

Remember the day we were married?

Everyone told me I should be a nervous wreck,

I wasn’t nervous at all,

Why would I be when this was all I had wanted for such a long time?

Remember bed rest, and our first baby?

You were amazing in labor and delivery,

And with that baby boy’s first cry a new chapter had begun for us.

I almost lost you that day.

The nurse pretended not to panic while calling a Dr;

Your mom had to walk out,

And I wept as I pleaded with the Father not to take you from me.

Remember the hard times,

When we were awful to each other.

We hurt each other so deeply,

But our Father is gracious

And He knit our hearts together tighter than we knew possible.

Remember finding out we were having a girl

And our first glimpse of that red tinted peach fuzz on her baby bald head.

Then came our second boy.

Our little ball of energy and “frankness”.

Now here we are, twenty some years later,

And I am more in love with you today than I have ever been.

You are the strongest, most loving person I know.

You are the truest friend I have ever known,

I wouldn’t change one step of the journey we’ve traveled together.

You have made my life wonderful, and I thank God for every second He’s given us.

Thank you for your love and for supporting me no matter what.

I love you

My Brush With NBA Royalty

It was 1988, and my dad and I were headin’ to downtown St Louis on our annual trip to the Checkerdome to see a real NBA team play an exhibition game. We had seen several different teams play over the years, but had never seen our favorite team THE LOS ANGELES LAKERS. This year the match up was the defending champion Detroit Pistons vs. the LOS ANGELES Clippers. Yeah, that’s how we felt to. Anyway, this wouldn’t be a total bust because I had a bunch of Fleer basketball cards that I was planning to get autographs on. Plus, the Stankers i.e. Clippers had picked Danny Manning as their first round draft pick and word was he’d be at the game and might even suit up. See the Checkerdome was an old venue so if you knew the ropes you could get right up to the railing by the tunnels where the players came out and you could get pretty close. You were high up with soccer players(St Louis Steamers), but with NBA players you were face level, and could ask for autographs.

My dad and I were about halfway up on the side of the court opposite the team benches. We got their early so I could get some cards signed. So dad stayed at our seats and I went down to the tunnel entrance and waited for the players to come out. I got some okay signatures that night. I got Winston Garland, old James Edwards, Loy Vaught from Iowa, and a promise from a pre-tattoo pre-piercing Dennis Rodman to sign after the game. While I was standing there a young man came up and asked me who I was waiting for, and I said, “Isaiah Thomas or Joe Dumars”. He said, “Do you know them?” I’m thinking, “What a stupid question, of course I know Isaiah, I’ve watched him since Indiana, you dunce.” So I say, “No, I just wanna get them to sign their card.” He says, “I’m an old friend of Danny Manning’s.” “Really,” I say. “Yep,” he says.” We were roommates. . .” or some other blah, blah story, the point is he was blathering on, and on about his good buddy Danny Manning. I was impressed, I admit it. I was a huge Kansas fan that year and I really liked Manning. So as the Manning guy keeps going with all his witty anecdotes that proved he and Danny were best buddies I notice a really tall, well dressed black man with a Geri curl. This man was sharp, I mean dressed to the nines, and jewelry, oh man the jewelry. A huge ring on one hand that looked as big as any Championship ring but I couldn’t tell. He was on the other side of the tunnel and I kept looking right at him. I knew that guy. I mean the face meant something to me, I just couldn’t place it. Then as Captain MeKnowDanny was finishing a story about something funny his friend Danny Manning had said I asked him, “Is that tall guy with the jewelry Elgin Baylor.” One of the greatest players in NBA history I might add. The Kansas punk looks at me like I’m an idiot and says, “No, Why would Elgin Baylor be HERE?” Then the guy I thought was Baylor walks over and stands almost face to face with me. He turns around and I am staring at the back of his Geri curl, and smelling his wonderful cologne. He was there for at least 5 minutes during which time I turn around and look up to where my dad is sitting and he’s waving his arms like a mad man and yelling something. So I wave back and try to give him a sign that lets him know I am waiting to get Danny Manning’s autograph because schmucko here next to me knows him. Dad didn’t understand my sign, and just kept waving and pointing like the bridge was out. I figured he’s just old, I was thinking “Poor guy, he doesn’t get out much.” Next thing I know Danny Manning walks over shakes hands with the Geri curl guy, and starts talking to this guy next to me who claimed to know him. The guy was telling the truth. He did know Danny and he got me an autograph and a hand shake. I walk away happy.

As I get back to my seat my dad says, “Did you see’em?” I said, “Yeah, I got his autograph.” Dad says. “I was waving and yelling like crazy hoping you’d ask him to sign. Let me see.” So I show him the Manning autograph, and he looks up at me horrified, and says “No, did you get Elgin Baylor’s autograph? He was standing right next to you!” I said, “That wasn’t Elgin Baylor dad, besides why would Elgin Baylor be at a preseason Clippers, Pistons game anyway?” My Dad says. “He’s the Clippers GM and you were standing right next to him!” At which time the PA announcer came on to introduce one of the NBA’s all time great players, you guessed it, the Geri curl guy otherwise known as “Hall of Famer Elllllllllgiiiiiiiiiin Baaaaaylorrrrrrrrr.”

To this day I hate Kansas basketball, and KU fans, even if Danny Manning is on the coaching staff.

Help for the Satirically Illiterate

Does anyone know what satire is, or have has everyone forgotten. Merriam Webster defines Satire as trenchant wit, irony, or sarcasm used to expose and discredit vice or folly. You know, showing people how absurd their actions or statements are by being equally absurd in my response or statement. I know it’s difficult to do in less than 140 characters in a text, but I enjoy employing this tool. The problem is people don’t get it. I thought it was me for awhile, but having had this conversation with a good friend, I realize it’s not all me, and I like that. He helped me realize that it may be me, but more than likely it’s people who take themselves, their opinions, and their pontifications on those opinions way, way, way, way, way, way, way to seriously.

So I say to you all, stop reading the worst possible tones into every written communication on the Internet, and lighten up. YOU DO NOT, I REPEAT DO NOT HAVE ALL THE ANSWERS.

We can end Satire Illiteracy in our lifetimes, one overly intense Internet discussion at a time.

Man that felt good, tim

Will the Real Fundamentalist Please Stand Up?

I just took a “quiz” on facebook called "Which Past Preacher are You Most Like," and the whole thing kinda bugged me. Once you went to the quiz, it said, "Which of these fundamentalist preachers are you most like?" I mean I’m not angry about it, just a little irritated like when a gnat keeps buzzing around your nose or ear. It seems like the older I get the more things like this get under my skin even though they’re just for fun. But I digress. . .

First, I love Spurgeon, I mean I am a huge fan of his, but When, Where, Why, and How did the great C. H. Spurgeon become a fundamentalist. Spurgeon wouldn’t be allowed to speak at Fundy churches or colleges in our time. Places like Pensacola Christian, Hyles Anderson, and Crown would find any number of reasons to keep Spurgeon far, far away from their campuses. He didn’t have the right “Standards, or convictions.” I would bet that students in those schools aren’t even allowed to read Spurgeon at will. I hate to be the one to break it to my Fundy friends, but the governor was a Filthy Calvinist. I’m in the club so I can use the F. C. slur. Oh yeah, Let me make this one clear for all my independent fundamental Baptist brothers, and sisters. A deep concern for the lost doesn’t automatically make someone a fundamentalist.

Second, what’s wrong with Christians? Why would any human being want to be a “preacher” like Jack Hyles. Yeah, I admit he could pack them into the building, but has anyone ever listened to any of those horrendous maniacal rants he called sermons? The man was certifiable, and that’s being kind. I asked on facebook why no one but my 15 year old brother had the stones to stand up to that jerk, but I forgot that one of my former pastors had the moxie to call Jack Hyles out on the silliness he called pastoring . Dr. Bruce Foster called Hyles out in the Sword of the Lord newspaper. He took some heat from Hyles sycophants, but kudos to Dr. Foster for being one of the few fundamentalist leaders that I know of that had integrity enough to point out that Hyles claims didn’t add up.

Wow, I feel so much better.