I am currently working out in the Weatherford, TX branch of EECU, my job I held for about 8 months prior to the Little Women tour. One of the tellers just brought me in the local paper which is warm from the sun, and is already showing the wear of the weather. A front page article has to do with a man caught in a theft attempt by an off-duty officer. The man, 27-year-old Ray Earl Penkert, was observed stealing, and then apprehended. Rightfully, this article is on the front page! Do you know what he was stealing? Paper Lunch Bags.
I love it - Keep it classy, Weatherford!
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Friday, May 16, 2008
i like most of this. even though we know how i feel about cliche.
THE INVITATION..
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for,
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love, for your dream,
for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow,
if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed
from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own,
without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own,
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic,
to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself;
if you can hear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul;
if you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty,
even when it's not pretty, every day,
and if you can source your own life
from it's presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine,
and still stand on the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
"YES!"
It doesn't interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up,
after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone,
and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the center of the fire with me
and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or
what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you, from the inside,
when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for,
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love, for your dream,
for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow,
if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed
from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own,
without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own,
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic,
to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself;
if you can hear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul;
if you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty,
even when it's not pretty, every day,
and if you can source your own life
from it's presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine,
and still stand on the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
"YES!"
It doesn't interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up,
after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone,
and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the center of the fire with me
and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or
what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you, from the inside,
when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.
Friday, May 2, 2008
the 90's
So I think that I am going to play bass in a 90's cover band this summer. It's gonna be rad. See?? I'm already catching on to the lingo. We went over to Jason and Erica's house last night and hung out, and had pizza and listened to the tunes that'll be on the set list. I haven't seen erica in Forever - and now she's 7 1/2 months pregnant! She's a really cute pregnant lady :-)
We had this pizza from a place called pizza patron - which is a skich name, but nevertheless, the pizza was great. Jason stopped by and ordered it after work, and told the guy he wanted pepperoni on one, and then every vegetable they had on the other. The guys response was,"Even pineapple?" Which I don't usually consider a veggie, but what the heck. Jason said yes. And that pizza in all of it's jalapeno-bellpepper-onion-mushroom-pineapple-olive glory, was one of the best pieces of pizza I've had in a long time!
Back to the 90's band - old skool maroon 5, Goo Goo Dolls, Matchbox 20, Third Eye Blind, Vertical Horizon, All the stuff that people my age listened to in High School - early college. When he was playing through the list, nostalgia ran rampant. Brandon Edwards and I used to drive around in my gargantuan beast of an SUV listening to this stuff and harmonizing on the fly. It was a trick to see who could ACTUALLY get all the words to "One Week" or "Semi-Charmed Kind of Life." If the songs were too high - he'd just scream, if it was too low, I would sound like a dying cow as I exhaled hoping to hit the notes. These were the songs that would play as we drove out to play soccer on tues/thurs/sunday nights during the summers. It was an amazing time. James Wylie would drive out and visit me when I lived slightly out of town, and we would sit in his car and chat and listen to the radio, or come in and do the same thing in my room. Life was simple then. Ahh...Nostalgia you double-edged blade.
We had this pizza from a place called pizza patron - which is a skich name, but nevertheless, the pizza was great. Jason stopped by and ordered it after work, and told the guy he wanted pepperoni on one, and then every vegetable they had on the other. The guys response was,"Even pineapple?" Which I don't usually consider a veggie, but what the heck. Jason said yes. And that pizza in all of it's jalapeno-bellpepper-onion-mushroom-pineapple-olive glory, was one of the best pieces of pizza I've had in a long time!
Back to the 90's band - old skool maroon 5, Goo Goo Dolls, Matchbox 20, Third Eye Blind, Vertical Horizon, All the stuff that people my age listened to in High School - early college. When he was playing through the list, nostalgia ran rampant. Brandon Edwards and I used to drive around in my gargantuan beast of an SUV listening to this stuff and harmonizing on the fly. It was a trick to see who could ACTUALLY get all the words to "One Week" or "Semi-Charmed Kind of Life." If the songs were too high - he'd just scream, if it was too low, I would sound like a dying cow as I exhaled hoping to hit the notes. These were the songs that would play as we drove out to play soccer on tues/thurs/sunday nights during the summers. It was an amazing time. James Wylie would drive out and visit me when I lived slightly out of town, and we would sit in his car and chat and listen to the radio, or come in and do the same thing in my room. Life was simple then. Ahh...Nostalgia you double-edged blade.
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