The Crossing

A strange & eerie fog of which the likes no one had ever seen or encountered before, moved steadily across the shoreline blanketing the entire west end of the island.

As if the situation was not grim enough, now untimely, inclement weather would add its paralyzing insult to injury in the final fleeting hours of this harrowing conflict.

Heavy winds & rain promptly ensued.

It was now only a matter of time, as the opposition carefully surrounded its prey, fully realizing it was not only severely weakened, but pinned, with no means of escape.

Was this the end?

Surely years of unspeakeable torment & sacrifice had not been endured in vain, only to be lost in this most desperate of hours.

Darkness soon fell on the remaining forces as their leadership assembled to ruminate any possible hope of survival.

Though it was a long shot & not without enormous risk, an idea was suggested that just maybe, this strange & unseasonal weather might possibly be used to their advantage.

And so a plan was hatched.

It would be so secretive that even those directly affected were not told of their destination.

With dense fog as their cloak, punishing rain as a convenient sound barrier, & high winds restraining enemy transports, the mother of all evacuations began.

All through the night, small life boats ferried back & forth moving more than 9,000 troops, tents, artillery, & supplies safely across the river.

By late morning, August 30th, the fog had lifted, the rain had ceased, & the winds subsided.

Warships quickly moved in as orders were dispatched to "Finish the job!".

Soon General Howe arrived on the battlefront. It was there he became shocked & enraged to find his prey to be nowhere in sight.

How could this be?

Any attempt of escape in the night would have easily been detected by the finest naval armada in the world!

Nevertheless, a golden opportunity had slipped through the general's fingers to crush this rebellion once & for all.

And so, a rag-tag assembly of mostly farmers, untrained in the art of modern warfare, & led by General George Washington, survived the battle of Long Island in 1776 & kept their costly dreams of an American Revolution alive.

Who says God isn't on our side? :0)

Things That Go Puke In the Night

During the wee small hours of the morning I found myself in the most precarious of circumstances...for me at least. It would appear I have fallen ill. But out of respect for my legions of faithful readers (Val), I will spare you the gruesome details. That being said, I found my only solace in our couch, a brown comforter, a hot cup-o-joe, ( and here's where it gets hoyty-toyty) & a movie for the life of me I still can't believe I sat through. I can't bring myself to tell you the name of it (& no it wasn't HBO after hours reow-reOW!) but I will tell you it was the mother of all chick flicks. That in & of itself doesn't bother me because a.) My first dvd purchase EVER...was "You've Got Mail" (which we all know was a rehash of Sleepless in Seattle) and b.) As I blogged about in an earlier entry, Seagall & Stallone just aren't cuttin' it for me anymore (See: Cup O' Joe, Hold the Show).

So perhaps it was the drama that drew me in. I dunno. Perhaps it was the stomach virus clouding my otherwise impeccable discernment. All I know is this flick goes against every value/lifestyle I believe in. Yet there I was watching away curled up with a fresh cup of Starbuck's House Blend go figure. Weirder than fiction. The movie? I'll never tell.

We're Only Mortal

After revisiting some familiar Scriptural passages this past week, it dawned on me just how depressed the author was. Throughout the book, Qoheleth has a heightened sense of his own mortality such that the reader quickly realizes how it dominates every aspect of his life.

However, In the author's defense, I can more than identify with his realization of the futility of fleeting pleasures such as fine wine, scantily dressed women (aka eye candy) & enormous bank accounts. Particularly when when one realizes death is looming closer & closer with each passing moment. Talk about a Kill Joy & a dissertation on the hopelessness of life!

But I get that. And not only do I get that, I appreciate that. And not only do I appreciate that, I think there's value to be had in this seemingly stern thinking. For I'll take grim reality any day over fake fluff. But that's probably putting it too harshly. A better way to explain my reasoning (in an attempt to soften the blow) comes from a surprising source- Patrick Stewart. Better known as Captain Jean-Luc Picard.

In the movie "Generations" our hero states "Someone once told me that time was a predator that stalked us all our lives, but I rather believe that time is a companion who goes with us on the journey & reminds us to cherish every moment because they'll never come again. What we leave behind is not as important as how we've lived. After all, Number One, we're only mortal."

Somber words Captain. Yet honest & life giving when properly embraced. The same can be applied to the writings of Ecclesiastes. For it's in the acceptance of life's brevity, that we truly start living.

Sam's Club

You can't buy heart. George Steinbrenner has yet to figure this out in his yearly quest to purchase a World Series Championship. But perhaps that statement isn't entirely accurate. Maybe it is possible to purchase a small piece of heart (like say the Right Atrium). I believe the St. Louis Ram's organization did just that yesterday when they selected Oklahoma City's native son, Samuel Jacob Bradford, as their number one overall pick in the 2010 NFL draft.

Though his success at the next level is yet to be determined, Bradford would be hands down my first choice if I were a General Manager about to hand the keys & face of my franchise over to some young buck. Oh I confess my life long darn near rabid obsession with his previous college football program might have inadvertently influenced my judgement. But I know heart/ character when I see it. And those intangibles trump arm strength, height, weight & 4.4 speed in the forty every single time.

I.E. Brees was too short. Jeff George had the arm. Young was too flighty in the pocket. Leaf was clearly the superior make & model over Manning. And what about the cloud that has fallen over Pittsburgh's Ben Roethlisberger in recent days? Indeed, what's inside of us not only matters, but effects all parties involved.

So here's a resounding vote of confidence & support to that surgically repaired shoulder of St. Louis' newest leader. For he'll be shouldering far more than mere pads & a jersey.

Pictured: An unexpected gift from a dear friend that arrived just hours before yesterday's draft. Talk about incredible timing! ;-)

End In Sight

Just completed final tracking & mixing to upcoming album for which this blog was named after at 3:07 a.m. this morning. To put this in perspective this journey began in the late Winter/early Spring of 2005 while living in the Dallas area after my previous band "mainroad" fell apart. Finally, the finish line is in sight. Now comes the mastering portion of the album from an unexpected friend in the Lubbock, Texas area. Lots of areas in my life heating up it would seem. I suppose that's a good thing even though at the moment it doesn't feel like it. Alas, growth is painful. Here's to the future I've quietly & carefully laid the foundation to for many years now...Lock & Load!

Quitters Sometimes Win

Being the best is synonymous with this finely tuned machine we call the American way of life. We work hard, we play even harder, & we're told from the time we're in diapers to do our very best. Never under any circumstances are we persuaded to throw in the towel & give up. Because "quitters never win"! Right?

But in my thirty seven plus years of doing this little thing called life, I have found that ever so stale little blanket statement to be slightly flawed. For example, I watched a video series on this very topic many years ago. The guest professor described a famous painting of a blimp that had broken loose from it's....from it's....well...whatever you call proper docking facilities for blimps back in the day. The painting depicted men struggling to regain control of the giant aircraft with numerous ropes that had broken loose. Sadly, some had held on too long finding themselves entirely too high to simply let go without falling to their death. Yet if they continued to hold on they would also certainly die from a rapidly rising out of control blimp. A no win situation to be certain.

Point being: Know when to let go. I.E., know when to drop that college course that just isn't working out. Start anew with a lighter schedule the following semester & perhaps with a different instructor that can offer fresh insight to the subject. Know when to let go of a doomed relationship that will only bring further heartache (sticky, & easier said than done I realize). Know when to sound the retreat so that lives will be saved & soldiers will live to fight another day. As one professor somberly warned me in his office during my graduate work, "You might squeak it out, but you might end up with a bloody nose. Are you prepared to deal with the worst case scenario?"

I reluctantly ended up dropping the course, recharging the batteries, & had success the following semester. Painful? Less than ideal? Time consuming & hard on the ol' checking account? To quote the first female Governor of the great state of Alaska & the only real hope for our nation in crisis: "You betcha!" But alas, (sigh) such is life.

In the game of Chess, we know that the opponent's king is seldom placed in checkmate in the opening moves of the game. It's all about proper positioning, much patience, careful preparation, & often times painful retreat. Or worse still, loss.

But loss is inevitable. Plan for it. embrace it. Absorb & endure the hit. The Osteen's of the world would have you believe you will be exempt from these painful experiences if you're living right (shyeah right...whatever "living right" means/entails). So consider today's entry your own little personal Fox News Alert. In the fallen realm in which you and I reside, great health is the slowest means by which we STILL die.

Not suggesting you sell the franchise. Just saying that sometimes it's important to know when to flip the sign to "Closed" so on a different day, you return more rested & ready than ever. Now stop reading this & go to bed. ;-)

New Life

Choose any emotion that comes to mind & I probably experienced it today. To say it has been a gruelling 24 hours is a gross understatement. Even so, I am exceedingly grateful for the course of events that have unfolded & left my life once again, forever changed, for the second time in just under a month. Though I wanted to be certain & blog for my own benefit/records before day's end, the night is growing old now & my stamina fails me. Hope you understand.