Family Ties...

Show me that smile,
Oh, show me that smile!

Okay...I'll stop singing, now that that song is stuck in your head.

What's this post about?  Well, call it a companion piece to go with the strangers post.  I just wanted to show you people from my life who have made an impact on me:  My family.

Let's start way back when.

This is one of two photos I have of my grandpa (Sam), my biological father's dad:



As far as I know, he's still alive, although I hear he moved into a condo a few years ago, so I have no idea where he lives, and since I don't talk to my dad, I guess I'll never know.

I have no photos of my grandmother on my dad's side (Lorainne).  She died when I was a teenager-ish.  I also have no photos of my grandfather on my mother's side (Andy).  He died when I was very, very young.  My only memory of him is him sitting on a chair in my grandmother's house smiling at me.  It may not even be a real memory, as I think she may have moved into that place after he died. 

Speaking of her, this is the only photo I have of my grandmother (Bess), my mom's mom.  We just called her Gramma Gramma:



We have about a million of these pads lying around the house, but Mom packed them away a few years back to preserve them.  We used to draw moustaches and eyepatches on her.  She died when I was about eleven or twelve, shortly after my sister was born.

This is the only photo I have of my dad, whom I don't talk to anymore (that's a long story for another day that, surprisingly, has nothing to do with me being gay):



Yup.  I don't really have anything to say about him, except that he and my mom divorced when I was six, and we visited him regularly until we were old enough to only visit when we wanted, and then I stopped seeing him at all shortly after I started my senior year of college.

My mom got married to Duane a few years after her divorce.  I think I was eight.



That's them.

My older brother Jake is currently in Iraq.  He's due home for good in September.



I have tons of photos of him doing goofy shit.  We're partners in crime when we go out.  He and his wife live in Washington, but they've lived all over for Army stuff.

And my sister (who is really a half-sister, but we don't think of it like that), just rolled her car on Saturday.  She's fine, but the car isn't.



She was...12 in this picture, I think.  She's almost 17.  She's grown up a lot, has braces and beautiful teeth now, long dark hair.  She's a boy killer.  I call her Chris, but she's been known by many names:  Christy Jo, Crispy Jones, Christy, CJ, Turd, Christine, but NEVER, EVER Chrissy!

And that's my family.

Out

Church...

There's been a lot of dialogue in my life regarding church lately.

I had lunch with an old friend of mine whom I had not seen for almost five years. The last time I saw him he was one of those gung-ho for God, conservative, I'll-pray-for-you, hate-the-sin type of people. Over a hot dog (eaten with no irony) and Italian beef with mozzarella at Portillo's we discussed our past few years, plans for the future, and what had changed.

He wanted to be a youth pastor. Now? He wants to teach college English.

And over the course of our conversation, he mentioned his "apostasy"--his turning from the church. Tomorrow is the one year anniversary of that decision in his life.

I was shocked, in all actuality. Other than that, I was sort of glad to hear it, although at the same time, sad. This was so much a part of his identity when I knew him before. And on his path to get a Biblical Studies degree, he somehow realized that he didn't want to be a part of the church anymore. But he still wants the degree. It sounds familiar. I was there when I went to Judson.

In studying the Bible honestly, without any kind of "mystical distance," as he put it, you sort of realize that it's not really a great book. It's really hard to see it as something written by a loving God--or at least, it's hard to reconcile much of what is in there with the image of a loving God. Granted, he's God, and he's most definitely above human understanding. But the more closely you look at the Bible, the more the rotten parts of the fruit start to appear.

Killing in God's name. And I realize this is an OT kind of thing, but still...
Misogyny.
Gender inequality and gender equality side by side in the two creation stories.
Framing devices written thousands of years after the meat of a book becoming something that the church focuses on when teaching.
It goes on and on.

And I'm not trying to bash on the Bible by any means. I'm just being honest with what I've found to be problematic in my own life. I used to think the apostle Paul was great, but upon studying his words at length, I sort of think he ruined Christianity. And that's where my philosophy of "God's people are not God" is really helpful.

Instead of dismissing the whole church for being based on a book I really have some issues with, I realize that fallible man helped write that book. And they aren't God, no matter how "divinely inspired" people might think they are.

Jesus. There's something I can latch on to. The guy embodied love. He tried to teach a new way of doing things that was revolutionary for its time. He wasn't playing church. He wasn't coming to maintain the status quo. He came to love.

I know a lot of my readers might get a bad taste in their mouths at the mention of church, Jesus, and that elusive love, and I won't begrudge you that. You have every right to believe what you would like to believe without anyone telling you you are wrong. I don't feel threatened by another set of beliefs, and I feel no need to argue about it, to convince anyone of anything. I'm just being honest. And in all honesty, the church gets it wrong on so many levels. Christians are responsible for more hatred than I care to think about.

But instead of closing myself off from that, instead of dismissing it and saying, "Well, I can't be a part of the church," or "I can't be a Christian," I claim my faith. I'd rather be the one among the masses who is different, the one who loves instead of hates, the one who is trying to change the name from something that inspires a bad taste in your mouth to one that conjures up an image of radical change, difference, love.

And maybe I fail pretty much constantly. But I'm trying.

So yeah...that's my little opinion about church...

Out

Poem for a Friend...

Domestic Dispute

I recognize this--
this willful ignorance
deaf to counsel
blind to future
dumb for lack of support.
We don't keep our disapproval secret,
instead telling you with words
with absence
that we think you are marrying the wrong man.
And you reply with that which you think is Truth:
you Love him.
We just resolve to be there when he's gone
swallowing told-you-so's
like the lies you told about bruises past.

-----

Out

Our Song...

So, I'm trying really hard to focus on positives lately. I'm willing my life into the positive. And if you know me, you know that's hilarious. I'm not New Age-y at all. But I've been reading a blog called "Five Rules to Life," and almost anyone who has anything remotely true to say says that if you focus on the positives, you'll be happier.

It's pretty self-explanatory. So, I'm working on it.

Prepare for a happier blog. OR a colossal meltdown. Whichever.

Anywho, that wasn't the original intention of this post.

What I was going to say is that THIS GUY:



And THIS GUY:



Do not have a song. Never have. And or those of you not in the know, that's me in the first photo and the boy in the second. The more you know...

We've talked about this topic several times, and we can never come close to resolving this issue. I think the closest song we have to an "Our Song" is "The Luckiest" by Ben Folds.



But he thinks the closest we have to our song is "Lady in Red" by Chris de Burgh



No. I say no to that one. We both like that song, but it's not our song.

My question to you is as follows: How does one go about getting a song?

Also, do you and your significant other have a song? What is it? And why?

Thanks!

Out

Crazy...

It's funny, a relationship...



So true.

Out

The Power of Ten--or Fifteen...

My friend Melissa (check her out) ran a feature on her blog today that I think it would be fun to emulate.

She did a "10 Things About My Disability" post that I thought was very informative and witty. And while I don't have a disability, per se, I do have a unique perspective. So I thought it might be fun to tell you fifteen things about myself.

So, onward!

1. I am not contagious. I know, this was Mel's first point, but really. You can't catch gay. What you can catch from hanging out with me, though, is well-timed humor and maybe a laugh or a yawn.

2. I am a bibliophile. My room is filled with stacks of books in front of shelves full of books. And on top of those shelves? Books. I adore them, how they look and smell, the sound of turning pages, the magic of words passed through time. It's a vacation in the comfort of my home, and I love it.

3. I always wanted a Chia Pet. Since the first time I saw the commercials during Thundercats and Transformers when I was just a tiny Viewtiful_Justin. I asked my mother to get me one. I wanted them for birthdays and Christmases every year for what felt like ages. And I never got one.

4. I have a thing for firefighters. It's true. Joe Regular? Meh. But when I find out he's a firefighter, his hot points go up five-fold. The hat, the coat, the trucks...all of it. I don't know any reason why this is. I've tried to explain it, and I've plumbed the depth of my childhood. Nothing. But I do.

5. I have an irrational fear of being abandoned in a public place. I don't care if it's a grocery store I go to three times a week and I'm the one with the car keys; if I look up and I can't see you, I get nervous. Anxious. And I have to stop shopping and come find you. I've never been abandoned in a public place. I've never really been abandoned anywhere. But if I can't see you...I'm afraid.

6. I used to have a great memory, but now...not so much. I was a vault. Lock it away and never lose it. Now? It's more like a sieve. Lots of holes...I put something there, and when I go to look for it again in ten minutes...gone! Names, dates, ideas...gone! That is, unless I write it down. If I put pencil to paper and make those marks,

7. I had a great one for number seven, and then I forgot it while writing the last one...hrmmm....oh! I got it! I was going to say that I love to sing. And I do! If there is a song on the radio that I know, I will be singing along. Not well, mind you, but singing along nonetheless. And if I don't know it? I'll be singing along by the second chorus. And, because of that, I judge a lot of music based on its singability. If it's not fun to sing along, I probably don't like it.

8. My feet are cold. Unless I am wearing shoes, I can guarantee you that my feet are cold. I'm sure it's poor circulation, although I've never been diagnosed or even checked out. But I've heard "Your feet are like ice!" enough times to know it's true.

9. I try to figure you out. When I am in public and I see two people together or a group of friends are all around one table at a restaurant, I try to figure out the dynamics of the group. I like to see if they seem like they're on a first date or it it's someone's birthday, if it's a work group or a school study date. I love figuring people out. People watching...to the extreme!!!

10. I find rudeness deplorable. When I say hello to a cahsier, I expect a response. When I talk to someone, I expect their attention. I hate seeing people come through the drive at work while they're on their cell phone. It bothers me even more to see them talking while they're inside and I'm waiting on them. I can't imagine how people could think that it's okay to do this. It's rude, and it's unacceptible. It's important to be polite.

11. I have written three novels. Each year I participate in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), and every year I've participated, I've won, which means I've finished three 50,000 word novels, each in 30 days in the month of November. It's crazy amouonts of fun. But...the funny thing is that I've never edited one of them. Never even gone back and read them.

12. I'm a gamer. Many, many hours of my childhood were spent (not wasted, spent) in front of the television with a Nintendo controller in my hand. Not Sega. Not Playstation. Nintendo. I am and have always been a die-hard Nintendo fan...although right now they're working very hard to lose my affections--what with their lack of games for true gamers and their mountains of shitty shovelware crap. But, I digress. The fact is, I play, and I always have.

13. I like pirate slang. When I greet people, it's "Ahoy-hoy." Sometimes when I finish packing things at work I say, "Thar she blows." And sometimes, for no reason, I let fly with a "Yarrr." But I don't particularly care for pirates or the Disney Pirate movies. It's just...a love for the sound of it all.

14. It's a texture thing. This is the line I use when I don't like a food. I love cheese, and I love yogurt, but cottage cheese? Those little lumps turn me off. Baked beans, kidney beans, navy beans? Grainy texture. Ick. Same with peas. And marshmallows? Don't even get me started on marshmallows! I don't understand how something can be simultaneously puffy, slimy, chalky, and squishy at the same time. Eww. Add Peep's crunchy sugar coating and you've got the most revolting thin on the planet.

15. I love. There is so much hatred in this world, and only love can set it straight. I want to try to do my part to reverse the ravages of hate. So, I love. I love people and animals. I love quirks and mannerisms, accents and hair colors. I love facial tics and fashion, expressions and emotions. I just try to love. And I fail at this regularly, but I'm always trying. And really, that's all that matters.

What are some things that people don't know about you? Post them up and let me know about them!

Out

Warm...

I am warm. Emotionally warm. I haven't been communicating on any fronts that have been rewarding in a long time. And now there are people in my life, albeit on the periphery, that make me glad to get up and go about my daily business.

They urge me to write. They help me to think. Or, more precisely, they give me something for my brain to chew.

And I'm reading. I haven't been reading as much as I'd like to in a long time. But right now, I'm flying through books. And talking about books. And realizing that people I care about hate the same books as I do for the same reasons. There's something nice about that, especially when everyone else thinks said book is amazing. And no, I'm not referring to Twilight. Anyone with an eye for good writing thinks that's garbage.

And despite an awkward, messy moment in the middle, I had a good fifteen minutes with the boy this morning.

All this leaves me sort of glowing right now. Glowing and wishing I wasn't sitting at home alone on a Saturday night.

Out

Three Years...

Today Robb and I are celebrating our three year anniversary.

*double take*

Three years? Really? Gosh. It seems simultaneously like it has been so much longer and so much shorter than that. Crazy.

But really, I couldn't be a luckier man. Despite how annoyed with me he pretends to be.



Oh, and on a possibly unrelated note:

Your Bedroom Grade:

A

You are an expert in bed or should I say sexpert? But you're going to have to reach (around) for that A+. You are a natural in bed, and anyone that has had you brags about it long afterwards!

What's your Bedroom Grade? at QuizUniverse.com

How about that? Apparently he's lucky, too.

Out