The problem with caring for people is that you will continually be let down. And I don't mean that they do something to you that hinders your life in any way or do something directly to you. I mean it in the sense that we perpetually want more for someone than what they actually seem to want or do for themselves. This can be done by never reaching full potential, or ever even getting close to it, by them never realizing what they could do or who they could be if they wanted to, or continually making bad decisions. This goes for everybody. While someone is doing something in our life that disappoints us, we are no doubt doing something in our own lives that disappoints someone else, or maybe even disappoints the person we are frustrated with. If we were to trace these disappointments i think we would find something that resembles a very intricate spider web, much more intricate than any of Charlotte's.
This reminds me of my Never Ending Story post from back in the spring, but with various subtle/large differences. Like having the perfect information of the character in a story, we can have a lot of information about those in our lives. Although we don't have perfect information, we can usually know enough to know where there is unfound potential, potential that is lost, or just really dumb decisions that are repeated habitually (disclaimer: yes, we can be wrong, but even if we are, at least we care enough to be wrong). That's the frustration, not being able to make the right choices for them. Maybe you've been down the path they are starting and know where it ends, or what possibilities for getting lost are along the way. Maybe you seem to remember the times they have been hurt along that same path even though they seem not to remember or care. Maybe you just know there is a better path for them to take, if only they would cut through the brush they've lost themselves in to get to it. You can give them advice, tell them how the story will most likely end, or tell them how the story could possibly end if they would just change their minds. But in the end, you can't decide for them.
So now what? What can you do? Surely there is more to do than just pray and wait it out? I'm not sure there is. All you can do is be there. You don't have to support it, encourage it, or even belittle it. You can say your peace, but after that, just be there. Be ready to congradulate, consol, or listen.
I imagine this is how God feels. He knows what's best (disclaimer: No, he cannot be wrong). This disappointment we feel comes from our love for that person. But that love, no matter how strong, pales in comparison to his. He hurts for us that much more when we fail to reach our potential, recieve our blessings, or make bad choices.
Monday, November 21, 2005
Sunday, October 23, 2005
Sounds and Music
They say the sense of smell is tied the most to memory. This may be so in many instances, but when we speak of things like that we rule out, without meaning to, the power of the other senses. Sound. I think I probably give more weight to sound. In my head I don’t smell familiar things, but I can hear them. I can’t smell MeMa’s fried chicken, but I can hear her voice as she greets me coming up the walk.
I remember it from a movie. I’m not sure which movie, but I remember loving the idea. A man is describing the power of a song, of a melody, of a single note. Music. It has such great power. In the movie, Alexander the Great is mentioned. It is said that a simple melody could instantly prepare him for battle while only a matter of moments later another song could calm him to the point of weeping. When we are trying to find a song or a CD to listen to, we choose according to our emotions or moods at the time. Sometimes we choose in order to change our mood. We want something upbeat to cover up the aches of a bad conversation. On the flip side, we may choose something that helps to drive us deeper and closer to feel the aches that have begun, because sometimes that is the fastest cure.
Music and Memory. Every time I hear Eye of the Tiger I go back to Auburn, AL, to the field of Jordan-Hare Stadium. I stand there at the tunnel waving my shaker as the Tigers run past to take the field. Or I’m taken back to hours earlier strolling through a labyrinth of tents and grills on campus where the song blazes through the air from various tailgates. Song of the South by Alabama reminds me of high school. It’s blaring from the back of Luke’s K5-Blazer. I acquired the CD shortly after and can remember driving around Brentwood with Morgan singing it at the tops of our lungs because there was nothing better to do. Dave Matthews will always remind me of Ed, that night in his room freshman year and New Orleans. Toby Keith’s song about America will remind me of Michael and I singing the chorus over and over because we don’t know any other words. The sound of a Ukulele will remind me of living next to Dan the Dog that last semester and our crawfish boil extravaganza. Beverly Hills by Weezer will forever mark the So This Is America road trip with Tom. Damien Rice, Coldplay, Oasis and all depressed British guys with a musical instrument will remind me of Dan. Their songs alone are enough to bring tears of happy memories and sadness for a loss. Listening to Damien Rice actually inspired these thoughts. Dan dragged me to a small theatre in Nashville to hear him, this guy that no one had heard of and it was amazing. Forever songs or bands or just a genre will remind me of a specific someone or a group of friends I had. Not everyone will have a song linked to them, but those who do, they will most assuredly enter my mind within the first few measures, and that moment, that song has become so much sweeter to my ears…….and a small grin comes across my face.
I remember it from a movie. I’m not sure which movie, but I remember loving the idea. A man is describing the power of a song, of a melody, of a single note. Music. It has such great power. In the movie, Alexander the Great is mentioned. It is said that a simple melody could instantly prepare him for battle while only a matter of moments later another song could calm him to the point of weeping. When we are trying to find a song or a CD to listen to, we choose according to our emotions or moods at the time. Sometimes we choose in order to change our mood. We want something upbeat to cover up the aches of a bad conversation. On the flip side, we may choose something that helps to drive us deeper and closer to feel the aches that have begun, because sometimes that is the fastest cure.
Music and Memory. Every time I hear Eye of the Tiger I go back to Auburn, AL, to the field of Jordan-Hare Stadium. I stand there at the tunnel waving my shaker as the Tigers run past to take the field. Or I’m taken back to hours earlier strolling through a labyrinth of tents and grills on campus where the song blazes through the air from various tailgates. Song of the South by Alabama reminds me of high school. It’s blaring from the back of Luke’s K5-Blazer. I acquired the CD shortly after and can remember driving around Brentwood with Morgan singing it at the tops of our lungs because there was nothing better to do. Dave Matthews will always remind me of Ed, that night in his room freshman year and New Orleans. Toby Keith’s song about America will remind me of Michael and I singing the chorus over and over because we don’t know any other words. The sound of a Ukulele will remind me of living next to Dan the Dog that last semester and our crawfish boil extravaganza. Beverly Hills by Weezer will forever mark the So This Is America road trip with Tom. Damien Rice, Coldplay, Oasis and all depressed British guys with a musical instrument will remind me of Dan. Their songs alone are enough to bring tears of happy memories and sadness for a loss. Listening to Damien Rice actually inspired these thoughts. Dan dragged me to a small theatre in Nashville to hear him, this guy that no one had heard of and it was amazing. Forever songs or bands or just a genre will remind me of a specific someone or a group of friends I had. Not everyone will have a song linked to them, but those who do, they will most assuredly enter my mind within the first few measures, and that moment, that song has become so much sweeter to my ears…….and a small grin comes across my face.
Friday, October 14, 2005
Classroom AIM
Man, this really irks me. I am going to miss the newest wave/craze of classroom laziness in college. As wireless becomes more and more popular and more students continueing to turn toward laptops and universities providing free access, students will soon realize they can look like they are typing notes while really flirting with that special someone down on the front row with the screen name AUFrattyGuy. Yes, even most of the front row will be involved. There will be those few motivated individuals who really take good notes, but they can just e-mail them to the slacker next to them at the end of class before they leave. That student will then forward them to start the chain that will reach 80% of the class. Man, i can't believe i am going to miss out on that.
Saturday, October 01, 2005
Sally Sells Sea Shells
Conch shells, turtle shells, oyster shells, mussel shells, hermit crab shells, etc. The list goes on and on. Being on an island, I see shells everywhere I go. They are used in decoration on nearly everything. You will see tourists loading their suitcases with them as cheap souvenirs for those they love back at home. There are necklaces and bracelets and anklets. Apart from those mentioned above, you might even see one or two when you go to the beach on any given day. We recognize shells. For the most part a person can look at a conch shell and know its a conch shell. The same applies to turtles, oysters, clams, etc. We have been trained to recognize these shapes and outward appearances. The recognition tells us what we are looking at. But it is not this recognition that makes them what they are. A conch shell is not a conch shell because it looks like one. A conch shell is a conch shell because a conch lived in it. We define a shell by what lives inside of it.
I was brought to this thought recently by thinking of a friend. Sometimes bodies get in the way. A body helps us to recognize who it is we are looking, but that body does not define the person. It's what's inside that defines who we are. It's what's inside that we love about people. It's their personality, their thoughts, their dreams, their character, the way they react in a moment that we will remember and cherish. A person's body can be broken while what we love about them remains intact.
I was brought to this thought recently by thinking of a friend. Sometimes bodies get in the way. A body helps us to recognize who it is we are looking, but that body does not define the person. It's what's inside that defines who we are. It's what's inside that we love about people. It's their personality, their thoughts, their dreams, their character, the way they react in a moment that we will remember and cherish. A person's body can be broken while what we love about them remains intact.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
A metaphoric story......
I'm not sure who wrote this.
My father and I are standing in a field rich and lush with Montana
prairie
> grass. It is the lightest golden color of straw and it shimmers with the
> reflection of the hot August sun. My father, always a giant to me, is
small
> against this forever field that matches the vastness of the blue Montana
> sky. We stand silently, side by side, our relationship, as always, marked
> by few words. I hold a bucket of water in my hand as we watch for the
first
> of the flames that are surely going to ignite this dry, dry grass. We
> search, our hands shading our eyes, watching, waiting for what seems like
> days. Our legs and arms are hot and heavy with exhaustion from the
constant
> vigil. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, a spark begins a small fire
very
> close to our feet. It could have started anywhere, but it began so close.
> Surely we would be able to extinguish it before it turned wild. I hand
the
> bucket to my father; it is the heaviest bucket I have ever held. He takes
> it easily from me,
> > always strong, always sure of the task ahead and the manner in which it
> should be handled. My father dumps the water on the flames, but as he
> pours, we can both see that it is already too late. The water kills very
> little of the fire that has already started to spread through our Montana
> prairie. It is not enough. We were ready. We were waiting. And yet, we
> were powerless in the face of natures wrath. It is one of the very few
> times in which my father and I stood together as a team, and we have lost.
> There was nothing we could do. The forces against us were just too big.
> And we turn and run, just hoping to escape the roar and the heat that is
> rapidly closing in behind us.
Where is the fine line between giving up and facing the reality of life.
My father and I are standing in a field rich and lush with Montana
prairie
> grass. It is the lightest golden color of straw and it shimmers with the
> reflection of the hot August sun. My father, always a giant to me, is
small
> against this forever field that matches the vastness of the blue Montana
> sky. We stand silently, side by side, our relationship, as always, marked
> by few words. I hold a bucket of water in my hand as we watch for the
first
> of the flames that are surely going to ignite this dry, dry grass. We
> search, our hands shading our eyes, watching, waiting for what seems like
> days. Our legs and arms are hot and heavy with exhaustion from the
constant
> vigil. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, a spark begins a small fire
very
> close to our feet. It could have started anywhere, but it began so close.
> Surely we would be able to extinguish it before it turned wild. I hand
the
> bucket to my father; it is the heaviest bucket I have ever held. He takes
> it easily from me,
> > always strong, always sure of the task ahead and the manner in which it
> should be handled. My father dumps the water on the flames, but as he
> pours, we can both see that it is already too late. The water kills very
> little of the fire that has already started to spread through our Montana
> prairie. It is not enough. We were ready. We were waiting. And yet, we
> were powerless in the face of natures wrath. It is one of the very few
> times in which my father and I stood together as a team, and we have lost.
> There was nothing we could do. The forces against us were just too big.
> And we turn and run, just hoping to escape the roar and the heat that is
> rapidly closing in behind us.
Where is the fine line between giving up and facing the reality of life.
Monday, September 12, 2005
Lindy Lindy.......
....come the chants of the children as they walk to the playground and
see the old island local walking, or as in today's case lounging
about. Lindy is a tall man, tall enough for me to turn my neck up to
look at him, and i am 6'3. He would make a great basketball player at
this height. Maybe not in the pro's, but on these islands courts he
could turn an eye. Just skin and bones, he has long lanky legs and
arms. Its hard for him to find clothes on this island to fit his long
slender body. Rumor has it Lindy is an unbelievable piano player.
Someone who when they play, people just sit and watch in amazement.
This is of course past tense. No one knows how long ago this musical
genius lost his ability, but his tired eyes say it has been a while.
The chants of Lindy Lindy are not a chorus of endearment, but a
childish mocking of fright. Lindy is a local crazy eyed whino. Today
he was feeding that stereotype as he sat on the bleachers nursing his
cheap bottle of wine. They say he has family around who support him
by giving making sure he eats, and probably the occasional bottle for
dessert. You wouldn't know this, however, by his frame, which is all
that holds him up. He walks the streets of St. John trading clothes.
Not in a barter system manner, but by finding something on the ground,
putting it on, and placing in the spot the clothing he was wearing.
Sadly enough, he does not trade up every time, many times it is a
worse artical of clothing than before.
He sat there sipping on his bottle. The children use him as a way to
pass the time. They run to see if he is still sitting there, and then
run off again. He slumps over to his bottle and he shows some sort of
emotion. At first you think he is weeping, but it is hard to tell
because sometimes he appears to be laughing, just chuckling to
himself. It makes no difference. It's a sad story either way you
tell it. He was good enough at something for people to still talk
about it. I don't know what kind of music he played. It could have
been blues, or jazz, or classical for all i know. What i do know is
that this one time prodigy will be a legend. Not for his talents, but
for the sadness his life has now become. The children will scare
their kids one day with stories of old Lindy. They will say his ghost
still haunts the courts at night, looking for half empty bottles of
booze.
This story is familiar enough, but it's not the way its intended to
be. People will say, "How can God let things like this happen." We
say the same thing when someone steals something from us, or there is
a murder, or a drunk driving accident. Lindy is a tragedy as much as
the things i just listed. But God gave us free will. But in giving us free will, he still has a will for our life. It is then up to us whether or not to make his will our own.
see the old island local walking, or as in today's case lounging
about. Lindy is a tall man, tall enough for me to turn my neck up to
look at him, and i am 6'3. He would make a great basketball player at
this height. Maybe not in the pro's, but on these islands courts he
could turn an eye. Just skin and bones, he has long lanky legs and
arms. Its hard for him to find clothes on this island to fit his long
slender body. Rumor has it Lindy is an unbelievable piano player.
Someone who when they play, people just sit and watch in amazement.
This is of course past tense. No one knows how long ago this musical
genius lost his ability, but his tired eyes say it has been a while.
The chants of Lindy Lindy are not a chorus of endearment, but a
childish mocking of fright. Lindy is a local crazy eyed whino. Today
he was feeding that stereotype as he sat on the bleachers nursing his
cheap bottle of wine. They say he has family around who support him
by giving making sure he eats, and probably the occasional bottle for
dessert. You wouldn't know this, however, by his frame, which is all
that holds him up. He walks the streets of St. John trading clothes.
Not in a barter system manner, but by finding something on the ground,
putting it on, and placing in the spot the clothing he was wearing.
Sadly enough, he does not trade up every time, many times it is a
worse artical of clothing than before.
He sat there sipping on his bottle. The children use him as a way to
pass the time. They run to see if he is still sitting there, and then
run off again. He slumps over to his bottle and he shows some sort of
emotion. At first you think he is weeping, but it is hard to tell
because sometimes he appears to be laughing, just chuckling to
himself. It makes no difference. It's a sad story either way you
tell it. He was good enough at something for people to still talk
about it. I don't know what kind of music he played. It could have
been blues, or jazz, or classical for all i know. What i do know is
that this one time prodigy will be a legend. Not for his talents, but
for the sadness his life has now become. The children will scare
their kids one day with stories of old Lindy. They will say his ghost
still haunts the courts at night, looking for half empty bottles of
booze.
This story is familiar enough, but it's not the way its intended to
be. People will say, "How can God let things like this happen." We
say the same thing when someone steals something from us, or there is
a murder, or a drunk driving accident. Lindy is a tragedy as much as
the things i just listed. But God gave us free will. But in giving us free will, he still has a will for our life. It is then up to us whether or not to make his will our own.
Monday, August 08, 2005
I'm back
Not in the States, just back to my blog. last week there were 16 people down here from brentwood working with kids and stuff. You can read our journals at www.brentwoodcollege.com
The link to my journal page is over there ---------->
It will be fully updated within the next couple of days.
good talk
The link to my journal page is over there ---------->
It will be fully updated within the next couple of days.
good talk
I'm back
Not in the States, just back to my blog. last week there were 16 people down here from brentwood working with kids and stuff. You can read our journals at www.brentwoodcollege.com
The link to my journal page is over there ---------->
It will be fully updated within the next couple of days.
good talk
The link to my journal page is over there ---------->
It will be fully updated within the next couple of days.
good talk
Thursday, July 14, 2005
hows the weather?
I have gotten plenty of questions about the weather. There are plenty of paranoid people on this island to look at the weather for me. There are also plenty of rational people who decifer what is imortant and what is not. So word travels around. Since none of us have TV anymore, we don't get to talk about the latest court cases in america such as michael jackson and scott peterson. So instead people converse about the weather. blah blah blah beautiful island blah blah. I love my life.
Monday, June 27, 2005
My real world is better than yours
so i live on an island. it is surrounded by water. everywhere i look, i see water, and euro speedos. I got pooped on the other day by a bird. I think i might be here for a while......
Saturday, June 18, 2005
"Closing time.......
......every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end"
Well, my new beginning is in St. John. I'm here, and its awsome. Internet time is valuable, so for now i am just going to post what i wrote in an e-mail.
Alright, so dan and i have been hired into the 4 hour work program at
Maho Bay, an eco-tourism campgrounds thing. It's pretty much like
being at summer camp. We live in little cottages and walk up and down
stairs all day long. If you have seen Star Wars where they are in the
ewok village, that is where i live. You can see where i am if you go
to www.maho.org. (it might be mahobay.org). The resident manager,
Wayne, looked at us and told me i would be in maintenance and that Dan
would be in Housekeeping. This guy could learn a thing or two about
abusing stereotypes. For those who don't know Dan, he refers to
himself as a "late bloomer", and we are an odd looking couple when we
stand next to eachother. Dan does however have more facial hair than
i do. I am using a dial-up internet connection so i probably won't be
able to post pictures for a while. I haven't taken any yet either.
But, i'm going to be here for a long time so i'll get around to it
eventually.
Remarkably, my cell phone works here. I don't take it to work, butj i
only work from 8-2 everyday. so if you must, call between 2 and 10
eastern time. Or text me something. I know there are people who
should be on this list that aren't, so send me back an e-mail with
their e-mail address and i will add them.
I'll do better next time.
Well, my new beginning is in St. John. I'm here, and its awsome. Internet time is valuable, so for now i am just going to post what i wrote in an e-mail.
Alright, so dan and i have been hired into the 4 hour work program at
Maho Bay, an eco-tourism campgrounds thing. It's pretty much like
being at summer camp. We live in little cottages and walk up and down
stairs all day long. If you have seen Star Wars where they are in the
ewok village, that is where i live. You can see where i am if you go
to www.maho.org. (it might be mahobay.org). The resident manager,
Wayne, looked at us and told me i would be in maintenance and that Dan
would be in Housekeeping. This guy could learn a thing or two about
abusing stereotypes. For those who don't know Dan, he refers to
himself as a "late bloomer", and we are an odd looking couple when we
stand next to eachother. Dan does however have more facial hair than
i do. I am using a dial-up internet connection so i probably won't be
able to post pictures for a while. I haven't taken any yet either.
But, i'm going to be here for a long time so i'll get around to it
eventually.
Remarkably, my cell phone works here. I don't take it to work, butj i
only work from 8-2 everyday. so if you must, call between 2 and 10
eastern time. Or text me something. I know there are people who
should be on this list that aren't, so send me back an e-mail with
their e-mail address and i will add them.
I'll do better next time.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
So This is America.......
So, this is Day 2 of my cross country road trip. I will only be able to post every now and then so bear with me. Yesterday (Day 1) I flew into San Francisco. All i saw was the airport. We drove to Stanford and had breakfast at a local cafe, it was decent. AFter that it was onto the open road. We then stopped in Santa Cruz. We paid $10 to park and go see the boardwalk. Don't do that.......ever. I will say this is the first time i have been a minority in a very long time. Lets keep in mind i'm from TN and went to school in AL. Anyway, the water was cold and the beach wasn't pretty. We then drove about 500 yds down the road and pulled off into a free parking lot. We walked across the street and stood over the cliffs watching the srufers below. This part was fun to watch. There were some seals hanging out as well. I yelled "Rose on the Grave", but all i got back was the sound of a dog trying to bark while being choked. From there we went to the fishermans warf in Monterey, following the advice of some girls from SF i met on my spring break cruise. We ate oysters at an oyster bar and asked the bar tender where we should go from there. He said to go about 20 miles down Highway 1 (road that borders the coast, you've seen it in a dozen movies) and stop at the River Inn. He said to get a drink and walk down to the river and sit in a chair. We did this. The thing is, the chairs are in the middle of the river. So we took off our shoes and waided out into the river to sit in the wooden chairs. It was really cool. We asked the bar tender at the hotel where we should go from there. He pointed us to Nepyphethe's (spelling??). This was a restaraunte on the coast. You could sit on the deck and see 40 miles down the coast. It was a great view and a great place just to hang out that we wouldn't have found otherwise. We ask the hostess where to go after that. She said drive 70 miles until you hit the first stop light you'll see. There is a Bar-b-que place there that is good. So we ate there and it was decent. From there we drove to San Louis Opi.....no idea. This is wear Cal Poly is. They ahve a Beta chapter there so we stopped in and hung out for about an hour. The guys were cool and real laid back. They were very normal. I had expected either power dorks or worthless stoners, they were neither. AFter realizing the house wasn't a real fraternity house, and that staying there would be difficult, we drove about 30 miles to Santa Maria and stayed at a Motel 6.
Day 2 started around 10 when we left the hotel. We went to Sana Barbra, but there isn't much there. Supposedly the beaches are nice, but i will never know. From there we drove down the 101. We missed the exit to 1 (the Pacific Coast Highway, or PCH), which goes along the coast. So after getting to Thousand Oaks (fancy suburb of LA) we hop onto 23 south, which runs down to the PCH. This was a wonderful mistake to have made. Driving along 23 was great. It went from the low valley ppint in Thousand Oaks up to the top of the surrounding hills. We drove for a while down the winding highway through the hills. It was beautiful. We finally made it to the PCH around Santa Monica. We drove south and into Malibu. Its pretty cool there. I'm tired of typing and want to sleep. Will finish day 2 later. Look at Tom's site for pictures.
Day 2 started around 10 when we left the hotel. We went to Sana Barbra, but there isn't much there. Supposedly the beaches are nice, but i will never know. From there we drove down the 101. We missed the exit to 1 (the Pacific Coast Highway, or PCH), which goes along the coast. So after getting to Thousand Oaks (fancy suburb of LA) we hop onto 23 south, which runs down to the PCH. This was a wonderful mistake to have made. Driving along 23 was great. It went from the low valley ppint in Thousand Oaks up to the top of the surrounding hills. We drove for a while down the winding highway through the hills. It was beautiful. We finally made it to the PCH around Santa Monica. We drove south and into Malibu. Its pretty cool there. I'm tired of typing and want to sleep. Will finish day 2 later. Look at Tom's site for pictures.
Monday, May 09, 2005
Things to do.......
Well, i've been told i will graduate. This is good. I spent 1.5 hours pissing and moaning about the possibility that i might not. I needed a 57, and everyone i talked to did the main part of the test differently than i did. I'll see your 57 and raise you 60 (meaning i got a 117%). My list of things to do before i leave the country has several things checked off. I have seen Dave Matthews Band. We went down to Jazz Fest in New Orleans to see him. good show dave. I brought back 111 lbs of crawfish for a crawfish boil. Did that. Bought a plane ticket to San Francisco where Tom (already on the way by himself) will pick me up at 10:15 am on May 22nd. We will finish the trek across the country together. The itinerary is on his blog: Tom's Page Good times to be had with my bud before we part ways for a long time. Roadtrip, check. I have had an offer to go to Ru San's for sushi, check. I have decided to add something. I want to make out on Samford Lawn before i leave college.
Friday, May 06, 2005
This weeks moment in disbelief......
There are too many ways i could go with this one. You may have to click "skip advertisement" at the top to see it.
Child Abuse
Child Abuse
Thursday, May 05, 2005
Ode To Marketing
I wrote this letter to the Marketing Department at Auburn as part of a survey i had to complete in order to graduate.
The Markething department at Auburn University has become a joke. People may ask what one is doing on a given night, if they are studying, or whatever, and many times they will reply, "I'm a Marketing Major" and immediately the person questioning will laugh and agree that they have nothing to do. Of the marketing teachers i've had (Abernethey, Lett, Guffey, Harris, Sersland, and Laumer), only two have measuered up as someone who should be teaching higher education. Abernethy and Guffey should be the only teachers you keep. I had Laumer for principles, which didn't really give him an opportunity to show us what he was made of, but from hearing other people and just wathing him teach the class, I am sure he is worth keeping as well. I realize that Guffey gets many horrible reviews and people dread taking his class. There is a very good reason for this. He is a good teacher by academic terms, not by "Rate your professor" terms. If you can get over the fact that you may actually have to work in the class, and start to pay attention to him, you will realize he is actually a very good teacher. He forces us to think. We get mad at him because he is the only one who has challeneged us thuse far. We get mad because taking one of his tests requires more than a scantron and the test from last semester. He teaches the final marketing class which is supposed to sum up our experience, all it does is make one realize that to this point, we haven't actually learned much of anything. That is, of course, unless you have been one of the fortunate few who have managed to get into one of Dr. Abernethy's classes. Dr. Abernethy is probably the most redeeming factor the Marketing Dept. has as a representative. He knows what he's teaching, he is the most prepared, and he prepares his students the best. He tests you on your ability to apply what you've learned, whereas 90% of my other tests were multiple choice with definitions. It has become apparent to me that the employement field for marketing majors is not going to provide us with the most opportunities. Going into this setting, i wish i had more to stand on than this. I wish there were fewer students in the marketing program. I wish the marketing program was something that only motivated students majored in because they were goign to have to learn. Trim the fat. That means the worthless teachers, i am sure you know who they are. That also means the worthless students who are marketing because it is easy. Make the marketing department something to be proud of, not an onrunning joke. Also, James Elston in the english department is a prime example of how a teacher should care for his students. If you'll excuse me, i must now make a decision on what to do with my life. I can go home and work in a restaraunt and live with my family, or i can go to gradschool somewhere and get an education worth bragging about and eventually get a real job.
The Markething department at Auburn University has become a joke. People may ask what one is doing on a given night, if they are studying, or whatever, and many times they will reply, "I'm a Marketing Major" and immediately the person questioning will laugh and agree that they have nothing to do. Of the marketing teachers i've had (Abernethey, Lett, Guffey, Harris, Sersland, and Laumer), only two have measuered up as someone who should be teaching higher education. Abernethy and Guffey should be the only teachers you keep. I had Laumer for principles, which didn't really give him an opportunity to show us what he was made of, but from hearing other people and just wathing him teach the class, I am sure he is worth keeping as well. I realize that Guffey gets many horrible reviews and people dread taking his class. There is a very good reason for this. He is a good teacher by academic terms, not by "Rate your professor" terms. If you can get over the fact that you may actually have to work in the class, and start to pay attention to him, you will realize he is actually a very good teacher. He forces us to think. We get mad at him because he is the only one who has challeneged us thuse far. We get mad because taking one of his tests requires more than a scantron and the test from last semester. He teaches the final marketing class which is supposed to sum up our experience, all it does is make one realize that to this point, we haven't actually learned much of anything. That is, of course, unless you have been one of the fortunate few who have managed to get into one of Dr. Abernethy's classes. Dr. Abernethy is probably the most redeeming factor the Marketing Dept. has as a representative. He knows what he's teaching, he is the most prepared, and he prepares his students the best. He tests you on your ability to apply what you've learned, whereas 90% of my other tests were multiple choice with definitions. It has become apparent to me that the employement field for marketing majors is not going to provide us with the most opportunities. Going into this setting, i wish i had more to stand on than this. I wish there were fewer students in the marketing program. I wish the marketing program was something that only motivated students majored in because they were goign to have to learn. Trim the fat. That means the worthless teachers, i am sure you know who they are. That also means the worthless students who are marketing because it is easy. Make the marketing department something to be proud of, not an onrunning joke. Also, James Elston in the english department is a prime example of how a teacher should care for his students. If you'll excuse me, i must now make a decision on what to do with my life. I can go home and work in a restaraunt and live with my family, or i can go to gradschool somewhere and get an education worth bragging about and eventually get a real job.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Yes.......No
Why can't i cry?
All i want to do is laugh.
I want to apologize.
Someone should apologize to me.
I want to be at a concert.
I'm tired of all the noise.
I want to leave.
I'm going to miss here.
I want to be left well enough alone.
I need comfort from others.
I want to learn.
I'm tired of school.
I want to lead.
I'm lost, i need someone to lead me.
I want things to be simple.
Simplicity is boring. I hate boring.
Tell me what i want to hear.
Leave me alone.
I've got it all figured out.
I'm confused.
I've got it made.
I'm poor.
What do you think?
Don't preach at me.
What should i do?
I don't need your help.
All i want to do is laugh.
I want to apologize.
Someone should apologize to me.
I want to be at a concert.
I'm tired of all the noise.
I want to leave.
I'm going to miss here.
I want to be left well enough alone.
I need comfort from others.
I want to learn.
I'm tired of school.
I want to lead.
I'm lost, i need someone to lead me.
I want things to be simple.
Simplicity is boring. I hate boring.
Tell me what i want to hear.
Leave me alone.
I've got it all figured out.
I'm confused.
I've got it made.
I'm poor.
What do you think?
Don't preach at me.
What should i do?
I don't need your help.
Friday, April 22, 2005
Stormy Day
It's storming like crazy outside right now. Earlier today it was beautiful outside. Some pretty white clouds floatin around up there and blue skies in between. Now there is darkness and rain. I've got the door open and I'm really enjoying the sounds of the storm. Solomon talks a lot about "chasing the wind" in Ecclesiastes, "life is just chasing the wind". He's talking about how most of the things we pursue are worldly. Worldly things fade away, in the grand scheme of things, they mean absolutely nothing. Whether it be money, possessions, the next high, or the next girl. And he did chase money, possessions, drugs, and women. He found none of them satisfying. None of them added anything to his life. When he dies, none of it will matter or remain. Chasing the wind.
I feel that sometimes we may have realizations, and misinterpret things that happen or things we hear. We work hard to focus on things that matter, things that count in life, and to not worry about perishable things. We have a false expectation that when we stop "chasing the wind" and start living this way, that the wind goes away. That could not be farther from the truth. When we stop chasing the wind, its almost as if another wind starts chasing us. A storm develops. When this storm develops, we run from it. So at this point we've stopped chasing the wind so that we can in turn run from another wind. Maybe the storm catches up with us. What do we do then? We become unhappy. Where do we turn for happiness and satisfaction? Most of the time we begin chasing that first wind again, even though we've already established it will be in vain. This cycle will infinitely repeat. Unless.....
We turn around and face the storm. What does a storm bring with it? Rain. What does rain do? It provides us with water to drink. It provides the ground with water to grow grass and trees and flowers. Things that we see as beautiful and fully embrace as wonderful things in life rely on that storm. Seems as though there might be more to a storm than just grey days and sad Friday afternoons.......
I feel that sometimes we may have realizations, and misinterpret things that happen or things we hear. We work hard to focus on things that matter, things that count in life, and to not worry about perishable things. We have a false expectation that when we stop "chasing the wind" and start living this way, that the wind goes away. That could not be farther from the truth. When we stop chasing the wind, its almost as if another wind starts chasing us. A storm develops. When this storm develops, we run from it. So at this point we've stopped chasing the wind so that we can in turn run from another wind. Maybe the storm catches up with us. What do we do then? We become unhappy. Where do we turn for happiness and satisfaction? Most of the time we begin chasing that first wind again, even though we've already established it will be in vain. This cycle will infinitely repeat. Unless.....
We turn around and face the storm. What does a storm bring with it? Rain. What does rain do? It provides us with water to drink. It provides the ground with water to grow grass and trees and flowers. Things that we see as beautiful and fully embrace as wonderful things in life rely on that storm. Seems as though there might be more to a storm than just grey days and sad Friday afternoons.......
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Pope gonna go through this again soon XIV
I must preface today's thoughts with disclaimer type stuff. I am generalizing this, so nobody should take offence. I'm not catholic and don't completely understand everything that entails, so maybe I'm way off the mark. This is something that happens a lot in society, not just with the Pope, but he happens to be the current figure. The Pope is a great guy. He provides a unified voice for a large concentration of people. He is moral and good. He is a godly man. But recently, it seems as though he has been treated more as a god than just a godly man. Some people have only been paying attention because they are bored with the Michael Jackson trial. But if you watch the news, there are thousands and thousands turning out in what seems almost worshipful manner. Many times we take great men and we elevate them to god-like status without even realizing. Millions will poor tears when a great figure dies, which is fine. Mourning is normal, we are supposed to. But what bothers me is this someone died, that's it. They didn't die for anything in particular, they just died. People will get together on their birthday or annual day of their death and cry. They will hold vigils and travel hundreds or thousands of miles to do these things, just because someone wrote great songs, or was a great artist, or was a great church leader. The reason we have a Pope is because 2000 yrs ago someone else died. And its not because he was a great carpenter that we should remember him. Its not even because he came from a virgin or because he fed many people with half a fish, or healed the masses. These things are all part of it, but none of which is important on their own, or cumulatively, unless the final deed was done. Its because he sacrificed himself for us. He had a choice to make, whether or not to do it. Now, he made the choice before he even came here, but we get a true glimpse of his humanity when he cries in the garden for another way. But yes he died for us. This in itself is amazing. But he rose again....That's the truly amazing thing about it. Christmas....The birthday. We venture to the church to pay homage and say a prayer or two, take the lords supper, then rush home to see what someone got for us. We usher away the first gift we were given to make room for that brand new sweater. Easter....Same effect.
No attacks on the Pope here, he just spurred the thought.....and listening to a beatle's song and thinking about Lennon fans.
No attacks on the Pope here, he just spurred the thought.....and listening to a beatle's song and thinking about Lennon fans.
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
To Do List
It seems as though my life is becoming cluttered. The day I become responsible for my self is accelerating toward me at an unbelievable pace. I graduate in May. May 13th to be exact. I have things I want to do before I leave college. I also have things I want to do before I leave the country.
Before I leave college, I want to randomly fly to New York and see the Lion King on Broadway. You may be thinking something negative at this point, but shut up. I have started planning when this may be possible. It appears a weekend trip is not going to be possible. This year, I have two exams. The last one is May 9th at 11 am. This gives me the 10th and 11th to travel to New York and back........what else am I going to do with my time? But will I be able to find someone who would go? I feel a senior who is also getting ready to graduate is my best bet. Someone who is fearing the realworld and dreads graduation because their 4 year vacation is over. Possibilities........
Before I leave college, I want to have a crawfish boil at my house in Auburn. This is extremely doable. However, it will take away a possible New York weekend. But, we may have that worked out already.
Before I leave the country I want to go on a road trip. Not one to a place for a weekend, but a road trip to a distant place I've never been requiring many stops and many new people along the way. Couple of options for this one. 1) Ed has to drive a car to California where he will work at JH ranch. I can hitch a ride and fly back from the Pacific. However he may be leaving before I am able to. 2) I have applied for a reality TV show called Reality Trip (www.realitytrip.org). This will send me in an RV through seven states with 5 other people. This accomplishes the road trip and makes a great story. It will take place during the month of June. This however pushes my St. John plans back until the beginning of July as opposed to the middle of June. 3) Someone reading this decides, yeah, I wanna go on a road trip too. They call me and tell me lets go.
Before I leave the country I want to eat sushi at Ru Sans in downtown Nashville.
Before I leave the country I want to go camping.
Before I leave the country I want to see Dave Matthews Band play a show.
Before I leave college, I don't want to go to this class I have to go to instead of writing more. What a dork, its almost as if I go to a good school.
Before I leave college, I want to randomly fly to New York and see the Lion King on Broadway. You may be thinking something negative at this point, but shut up. I have started planning when this may be possible. It appears a weekend trip is not going to be possible. This year, I have two exams. The last one is May 9th at 11 am. This gives me the 10th and 11th to travel to New York and back........what else am I going to do with my time? But will I be able to find someone who would go? I feel a senior who is also getting ready to graduate is my best bet. Someone who is fearing the realworld and dreads graduation because their 4 year vacation is over. Possibilities........
Before I leave college, I want to have a crawfish boil at my house in Auburn. This is extremely doable. However, it will take away a possible New York weekend. But, we may have that worked out already.
Before I leave the country I want to go on a road trip. Not one to a place for a weekend, but a road trip to a distant place I've never been requiring many stops and many new people along the way. Couple of options for this one. 1) Ed has to drive a car to California where he will work at JH ranch. I can hitch a ride and fly back from the Pacific. However he may be leaving before I am able to. 2) I have applied for a reality TV show called Reality Trip (www.realitytrip.org). This will send me in an RV through seven states with 5 other people. This accomplishes the road trip and makes a great story. It will take place during the month of June. This however pushes my St. John plans back until the beginning of July as opposed to the middle of June. 3) Someone reading this decides, yeah, I wanna go on a road trip too. They call me and tell me lets go.
Before I leave the country I want to eat sushi at Ru Sans in downtown Nashville.
Before I leave the country I want to go camping.
Before I leave the country I want to see Dave Matthews Band play a show.
Before I leave college, I don't want to go to this class I have to go to instead of writing more. What a dork, its almost as if I go to a good school.
Monday, April 18, 2005
Sunday, April 10, 2005
The NeverEnding Story
I watch this classic from our childhood on saturday. I'm sure i'm the only person of those who would be reading this that has seen it from start to finish anytime this last half decade. I never caught the premis until now. Yeah Fantasia is being destroyed because people are losing their dreams, we get it. But, in the end of the movie, the Child Emporess is explaining how Bastion doesn't realize that he is part of the NeverEnding Story. Just as he is enjoying their adventure, some child (or in this case a 22 yr old college student) is enjoying his. Much like the movie Last Action Hero staring Arnold the Governor except on a more mythical and entertaining level.
What if someone were watching us? What if we were part of some greater tale? Would my story be entertaining? Would people laugh or cry more? Would they even be entertained? It's a fun thought to roll around and chew on for a while.
Now, if you believe as i believe, that there is a God and that he is watching us, then maybe there is something to this notion. This leads me to realize several things:
1. When reading a good book or watching a deep movie, if written well, the reader becomes emotionally involved with the characters. We cry when they cry and we laugh when they laugh. We feel extreme highs and extreme lows as we interact with the characters. In this way, except on a much larger scale, God is watching our story. He laughs when we laugh, he is sad when we are sad.
2. When we are reading a story, many times we have more information than does the character, because we can see more of what's going on through our knowledge of other characters and their doings. We know what path will lead the character to danger, and which one will lead him away from the danger. We know this because we can have almost perfect information about the events and surroundings. In this way God knows our story from start to finish, he knows which path we should take. It's important to realize that sometimes the easist path isn't the best for us. Sometimes (many times), its the harder path that is best for us, which prepares us for a future unavoidable path that we would not be able to survive had it not been for our experience on the previous path.
3. We have no way of getting this character the information needed, and he has no way of asking us for help. This is where the difference comes in. Luckily, the reader, and in fact writer of our story, is there for us to ask. Much like we want the best for the character we are relating to, He wants the best for us. Sometimes its hard to understand in the present that something is best for us. It may be days, weeks, months, or even years before we understand. In fact, sometimes we may never understand: Enter faith. I think everyone has faith. You either have faith that there is something more, or you have faith that there is nothing more, that we are just a result of perfect conditions allowing for life to develope and evolving to where we are now. Niether of the two can be proven. I prefer the faith that gives my life meaning, that i have a purpose, that i'm not just a result of a chain of events started by nothing.
What if someone were watching us? What if we were part of some greater tale? Would my story be entertaining? Would people laugh or cry more? Would they even be entertained? It's a fun thought to roll around and chew on for a while.
Now, if you believe as i believe, that there is a God and that he is watching us, then maybe there is something to this notion. This leads me to realize several things:
1. When reading a good book or watching a deep movie, if written well, the reader becomes emotionally involved with the characters. We cry when they cry and we laugh when they laugh. We feel extreme highs and extreme lows as we interact with the characters. In this way, except on a much larger scale, God is watching our story. He laughs when we laugh, he is sad when we are sad.
2. When we are reading a story, many times we have more information than does the character, because we can see more of what's going on through our knowledge of other characters and their doings. We know what path will lead the character to danger, and which one will lead him away from the danger. We know this because we can have almost perfect information about the events and surroundings. In this way God knows our story from start to finish, he knows which path we should take. It's important to realize that sometimes the easist path isn't the best for us. Sometimes (many times), its the harder path that is best for us, which prepares us for a future unavoidable path that we would not be able to survive had it not been for our experience on the previous path.
3. We have no way of getting this character the information needed, and he has no way of asking us for help. This is where the difference comes in. Luckily, the reader, and in fact writer of our story, is there for us to ask. Much like we want the best for the character we are relating to, He wants the best for us. Sometimes its hard to understand in the present that something is best for us. It may be days, weeks, months, or even years before we understand. In fact, sometimes we may never understand: Enter faith. I think everyone has faith. You either have faith that there is something more, or you have faith that there is nothing more, that we are just a result of perfect conditions allowing for life to develope and evolving to where we are now. Niether of the two can be proven. I prefer the faith that gives my life meaning, that i have a purpose, that i'm not just a result of a chain of events started by nothing.
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Easter Candy
I have noticed that easter candy is much better than normal candy. I am mainly speaking of chocolate. Why is this I wonder? I have a theory: Scott's Theory on the Origin of Easter Chocolate. Normaly candy producers just pump candy out and put it on a shelf. Its generally all the same. The wrapper is the same no matter when it is made, so you don't know how old it is. There is a good chance that generally anytime we buy candy from say, Kroger, that it has been in the manufacturer's warehouse for a while. Then it is sent to Kroger's warehouses. Then it is sent to individual stores where it waits until it is needed in the checkout aisle. If it happens to be close to a holiday, then there is an even longer shelf time for this piece of candy seeing as how people are buying the special stuff instead of the normal stuff. I am probably pointing out the obvious, but i am a marketing major at auburn and i have nothing better to do. Pressing on, so the candy makers have no where near the incentive to forecast normal candy sales as they would Easter candy sales. It can be left on the shelf and no one will know the difference. This said, the need to accurately forecast Easter sales is important. After Easter, who wants easter candy? You know how old it is because you know how long ago easter was. So the candy you eat at easter is much fresher than the candy from the check-out aisle.
This is what i do with my day.........this and trying to figure out my stupid Ipod.
This is what i do with my day.........this and trying to figure out my stupid Ipod.
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
Ipod Shmypod
This is not user friendly. Could i have spent the extra money and gotten a new one? Sure. Could i have asked someone for help before i went along trying to "ipod" on my own? why not. But i didn't, and now i'm raging. You gotta have a different cable for everything on this stupid contraption, and apparently, my computer isn't advanced enough to have the normal USB connection. The "dude, your getting a dell" guy is full of crap.
Ipod: Small, White, Ineffective
Ipod: Small, White, Ineffective
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Bliggidy Blog
yeah, i'm blogging from my cell. eat your heart out alexander graham bell. i just broke spring.
--- sdrennan@sprintpcs.com wrote:
can i blog from my cell phone?
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Saturday, March 26, 2005
The Prosecution got lucky on Peterson's case
Spring break has started. There are three people left in Auburn. Me, the guy who brought me my food, and the person at Foy (auburn's trivia and general question line) that i called for the number to order food. I am leaving for a cruise on Sunday. I only know a couple of people who are going on this trip. I can't help but wonder what type of people will mostly comprise this voyage. Will it be families and corporate get-togethers, or will it be a spring break party cruise? I will either come home with pictures of tourists that i make fun of, or pictures that i cannot show the family. I just read my friend Tom's website, www.tomcampion.com. I realized that after reading it, there are a couple of ways i can respond emotionally. First, i can realize that if i had in fact chosen to go to a college that would provide me with an "education", i would understand at least 65% more of his writing than i do. Or, I can react by realizing that while he has been working hard at school and achieving, i have been on a four year vacation. Are vacations always a blast with no downs? No, sometimes there are glitches and something may go wrong. These glitches have occured when someone forced me to take a test that was not multiple choice, but luckily that has only happened a hand full of times in my stint here at Auburn.
Tom's friend Simone and my friend Brianne have both been working on their Thesis's. Apparently we have different ideas of what that word means. I wrote one for my public speaking class for a speech on how i can relate my life to an object. I picked up a rock out of my driveway on my way to class to give the speech. I came up with a pretty good thesis while others were giving their speeches. I also had a pretty good one for my speech on the movie E.T.. I got A's on both of the speeches. I hope they get A's on their thesis's. I will write later on how much of my dad's hard earned money i have spent at college just to end up moving to a tropical island.
Tom's friend Simone and my friend Brianne have both been working on their Thesis's. Apparently we have different ideas of what that word means. I wrote one for my public speaking class for a speech on how i can relate my life to an object. I picked up a rock out of my driveway on my way to class to give the speech. I came up with a pretty good thesis while others were giving their speeches. I also had a pretty good one for my speech on the movie E.T.. I got A's on both of the speeches. I hope they get A's on their thesis's. I will write later on how much of my dad's hard earned money i have spent at college just to end up moving to a tropical island.
Saturday, March 19, 2005
Virgin Blog
It appears to me that i have been behind the times. Much like the middle age men who still wear all white shoes, bugle boy denim shorts, and braided belts (or no belts at all with a t-shirt tucked in). I don't know what potential this page has, if any. It could be that i post twice and never go back, or i could be a slut of a blogger. These things i do not know. I find it interesting when nouns, especially proper nouns (such as Facebook) become verbs.
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