The Streets of Lufkin or The Night I Almost Landed in Jail.

[Note to my readers: the following is an incident that occurred back in the winter of 1984. I neither condone the actions, attitudes or events herein. This is merely what happened, as a part of my life, especially the part which Christ redeemed me from…]

My face was covered with fire ants, a cop had a foot on my wrists which were behind my back and was I glad to be alive, except for the part in which I was  “about to be arrested,” and “those damn fire ants.”

Officer! There are fire ants on my face.” I was trying to get his attention as he conversed with his fellow officers, who were busy arresting my three buddies, Richard, James, and Byron. Apparently, out of the 22 officers who moments before had had their guns drawn, safeties off, and pointed in our direction, they just couldn’t find four pair of handcuffs between the 22 of them. This is why one officer had his foot of my wrists and seemed perfectly content to let the fire ants camp out on my face and neck.

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The Living Video Game

I felt my vest vibrate and saw the white flash that accompanies being hit. Someone across the vast range had hit me from a distance. I could see them hiding behind one of the multiple shields placed around the room. I ducked behind a shield as well and noticed that  Joey was at my side. He had been there the entire time, just like I told him to do. We were in battle and we needed to stick together.

I took the boys over to College Station on Tuesday in order to bowl for Andy’s birthday. Once the boys found out that there was a laser tag arena, that is all they wanted to play. I was somewhat skeptical, never having played before. I wanted to bowl. Just given my size alone guarantees at least 2 strikes per game. I also love to bowl. Between golf and bowling, I always score about the same, which isn’t good, but at least I’m consistent.

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A Treasure Hunt Christmas

It was just a simple map of the ranch, although the names of every thing on the ranch were a bit odd. There was the Blue Creek Fortress instead of Pop’s house, the cottage was called the guard shack, the road out front didn’t head to Brenham or Navasota, but to Rivendale or the Shire. The barn was Baby Sister’s Keep, the ponds were Lake Pleasant for the front one, and Poison Lake for the back one. Mount Doom rested on the back part of the property just about the same location as my father’s burn pile. And every grouping of trees had some mystical, elven sounding name. There was Myrkwood Forrest, Elven Woods, Samwise Garden and one area of trees with the warning: Trolls Hideout.

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The Bloody Hand

That is what I noticed first as I drove by a man who was standing next to his SUV. I was heading for the high school and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the man raise his hand trying to flag me down. When I looked, I realized that his truck was on the other side of the fence, laying on its side, and he was struggling to stand next to it.

I made a quick U-turn and parked in the grass. I looked at him as I got out of the car and realized he couldn’t be older than 16, and… there was blood running down his face and out of his mouth. I grabbed the towel off my golf clubs in the back of my car, knowing it was the only thing I had that could help stop the blood.

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Top 10 Reasons Not to Attend Christmas Parties

Yes, you could say that I’ve been burned by the spirit of the Christmas party spirit. Please note the non-capitalization of the word “spirit.” That is intentional because as I review my recent Christmas party adventures, and ones even farther back than this, I’ve come to the conclusion that Christmas parties, and more broadly the celebration of Christmas itself, is not good for my spiritual well being and rarely involves the Holy Spirit.

I’m not saying it is bad for your spiritual well being. Just that I don’t think it’s good for mine. So given that stipulation and the fact that this is my blog, I’m completely and totally right on this subject… for the moment. I could change my mind with new evidence, but given the case before us, this is my position right now. (Nothing like taking a strong stand in the shifting sands of such a deep and important subject).

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Who Am I? The Christian Science Years

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Who Am I?

I was raised in a Christian Science home and became one when I turned 21. However I confess that I never could reconcile life to the claims that those in CS were making. There were always these miracles taking place, but never real honest miracles. Lots of miraculous cures for the common cold and such. Most of the testimonies given by those in CS were of the nature that the giver was on “death’s door” and then they prayed, and were healed. Given that death’s door can be so subjective, I take it that most of these women giving these testimonies were getting over their menstrual cramps.

When I was 9, my family had a major car accident that left my mother paralyzed for life. I remember praying over her body as she laid on the side of the road, just as we were taught to pray as Christian Scientist, but she didn’t get up. She never would walk again even though she refused medical treatment as was the common practice, and would go to a special hospital for Christian Scientist where the nurses prayed for healings. My take from it: if the god of Christian Science wouldn’t answer the prayers of a 9-year-old boy, then he was no god at all. Read The Accident here.

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Feeding Birthday Girl

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Andy brushing Birthday Girl last time he was at the ranch.

I just came back from feeding the horse, Birthday Girl. Since moving back to my Dad’s ranchette, Blue Creek Ranch, it’s become sort of a ritual with us. We both go out, get on the golf cart, hunt down Birthday girl, bring her back, and feed her. It’s a simple and easy routine that keeps us going across the place almost every night.

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