Like it or not, social media venues have become a very powerful force in our society...
As a blogger, I'm not going to 'preach to the choir' with my post today. If you're reading this, then to you, I've already stated the obvious. What may not be so palpable, however, is exactly the extent to which social media tools have saturated our daily lives.
Who doesn't have an email address these days? Telling someone you don't have an email address is comparable to someone 30 years ago saying they didn't have a telephone number. Immediately you're labeled a troglodyte who's unattached to the very world where you live. Fair? Hey...I don't make the rules of acceptable social behavior. I have a hard enough time following them myself!
It's not just basic internet-based communications like email either. Facebook alone now has over 750 million active members. That's more people than live on five of the world's seven continents. So is Facebook a cyber-continent? Sorry Europe...that would move you to fourth now by population. Hope Facebook doesn't go your route and try to create their own collective currency, since...you know...that's working so well for you guys.
So as a Christian, where am I suppose to be in all of social media craze? Thou shall not Twitter didn't make the Big Ten back in the Book of Exodus...so that doesn't really help calibrate my moral compass on the issue. Jesus clearing up all those thou shalts and thou shalt nots by breaking it down to two basic directives(love God, love neighbor) doesn't really fit here either. Still, the Bible is the Living Word and can be applied to any and all aspects of my life. So...exactly where does social media fit in matters of faith?
Truth is...I think we over think way too much.
Did Peter break open his KJV Bible and start preaching to the folks in Rome in the early church? Of course not. Peter spread the Goods News based on what he had personally been taught and seen in the ministry of Jesus by the spoken word. Letters were rare..and books were even more so in Peter's day. Unfortunately for Peter, hearsay was admissible in the court of Nero...
Did Martin Luther deliver The Ninety-Five Theses to the Castle Church in Wittenberg, Germany by certified mail? I don't think so. Something that important should pretty much be delivered in person... with a hammer and nail for accentuating purposes. Drives the point home plus you can beat back angry clerics as you make a quick exit.
So why are Christians so polarized about the issue of social media use? Isn't it just the latest advance in means of communicating with each other?
I live in the South, and the phrase keep it old timey is as cliche here as my peeps up North might hear freeze your ____ off ....well...you know... they do use a lot more colorful language than us. But what does keep it old timey mean? Aside from timey not even being an actual word, I think people get hung up on the traditional means of their day and become fixated on the old way being tried and true, therefore, it must be the right way...the only way.
I'm sure if the Apostles of the early church could have looked forward to the year 1454 and seen the Gutenberg press churning out numerous copies of the very words of Jesus, there would have been a great deal of anxiety on their parts. What if something were misquoted? Misrepresented? What if the Great Deceiver himself corrupted the printings?! But look at how the printing press has brought millions to know and accept the Good News.
The phenom known as social media is no different. Sure, there are many dangerous agents that look to spread evil verses good, but God knew this from the very beginning. Also, Jesus spoke specifically to the perils of tradition with the Pharisees in Mark chapter 7- Stop living in the past dudes...well that's a paraphrase...of course.
Now I don't believe neither time nor any innovation can replace the importance of sharing the Good News with someone face-to-face. Living an exemplary life, loving others and showing compassion will never go out of style, but let's not be too hasty as Christians to write off social media tools as an instrument of evil only. As a matter of fact, I personally know a husband and wife who just six years ago lived in Iran as Muslims but were searching for truth. Through social media sources like blogs and chat rooms they connected with Christians. Today, they are both born-again Believers who escaped the repression and now worship and learn freely among other Christians due in part to those very social media sources.
Did I mention they are also bloggers and my Facebook friends?
Muses from a Christian dad of three daughters on a number of topics from a not-so-stuffy point of view...
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Monday, September 12, 2011
Life can get pretty busy...but not too busy to share a chuckle
Hard to believe a year and another addition has happened in my family since this post! September is always the very busiest month for me professionally, so please be a little understanding as I mix in the old with the new this month. Today, one of my personal favorites about my beloved Crazy Tomato.
Thanks for reading!
Kids really do say the darnedest things...
(Originally posted 9/14/2010)

I'm on my second rodeo when it comes to 2-year olds...
Carlee is the second of my two...soon to be three...daughters. While both girls share several common traits (i.e stubbornness, impatience, fiercely competitive, etc.), there are also some core differences. Carlee's older sister (Tony C version 2A) was for the most part a very soft spoken toddler. She spoke quite often but mild-mannered. True to stereotypical profiling, she is now a loud, annoying teenager...but I still truly love her (Happy 15th Birthday yesterday).
Tony C version 2B is far more in-your-face than version 2A as indicated by this recent exchange:
Version 2B: (slight paused, then popping into view with hands out) You don't worry about me! Tony, you just don't worry about Carlee and worry about Tony!
Tony C: (off-balance by the rebuttal) Excuse me?
Version 2B: You just don't worry about me. You worry about Tony, and Carlee will worry about Carlee.
Tony C: (regaining composure) Come here! Come right here, right now!
Version 2B: But I don't want a spanking! Just don't worry about me!
Tony C: Now!
Version 2B: (chin tucked into chest, lower lip puffed out and mumbling) I don't want a spanking.
Tony C: (lifting tot up onto the table and looking right into her eyes) I worry about Carlee because it's my job to worry about Carlee. I'm your dad! Don't tell me not to worry about you. Understand?
Version 2B: (under breath) Yes sir.
One recent morning while preparing to depart for school and work, I let the teenager deal with getting the toddler ready (mom departs at 6:30 am for work). After 15 minutes of bickering and crying (by both I might add), I headed downstairs to let the teenager finish what she had started:
Teenager: (with toddler screaming in the background) Dad...she won't let me put her clothes on her!
Toddler: Stop! Don't touch me! Stop!
Tony C: Carlee! If you don't let your sister help you get dressed...
Toddler: No! I want you to do it!
Tony C: If I have to come back up these stairs, you will definitely get a spanking for not listening! Let your sister dress you...we have to go now!
Thanks for reading!
Kids really do say the darnedest things...
(Originally posted 9/14/2010)

I'm on my second rodeo when it comes to 2-year olds...
That's my little fire gem to the right. Another blessing from Heaven and living proof to me just how much God truly loves me. Of course, tough love is love none the less.
Carlee is the second of my two...soon to be three...daughters. While both girls share several common traits (i.e stubbornness, impatience, fiercely competitive, etc.), there are also some core differences. Carlee's older sister (Tony C version 2A) was for the most part a very soft spoken toddler. She spoke quite often but mild-mannered. True to stereotypical profiling, she is now a loud, annoying teenager...but I still truly love her (Happy 15th Birthday yesterday).
Tony C version 2B is far more in-your-face than version 2A as indicated by this recent exchange:
Tony C: (looking over counter in direction of dishwasher) Carlee? Are you messing with the dishwasher buttons again? You know that's off limits. Carlee?
Version 2B: (slight paused, then popping into view with hands out) You don't worry about me! Tony, you just don't worry about Carlee and worry about Tony!
Tony C: (off-balance by the rebuttal) Excuse me?
Version 2B: You just don't worry about me. You worry about Tony, and Carlee will worry about Carlee.
Tony C: (regaining composure) Come here! Come right here, right now!
Version 2B: But I don't want a spanking! Just don't worry about me!
Tony C: Now!
Version 2B: (chin tucked into chest, lower lip puffed out and mumbling) I don't want a spanking.
Tony C: (lifting tot up onto the table and looking right into her eyes) I worry about Carlee because it's my job to worry about Carlee. I'm your dad! Don't tell me not to worry about you. Understand?
Version 2B: (under breath) Yes sir.
She does actually call me Tony part of the time, and while this is a point of contention with some of my extended family, I'm cool with it. Her sister went through the same phase and grew out of it (and I'm sure on to calling me much worse behind closed doors).
While there is rarely a day goes by that Mrs. Tony C and I aren't entertained by our rambunctious toddler who seems to be obsessed with bodily functions involving digestion or shedding her clothing whenever and wherever opportunity presents, her matter-of-fact dialog and take on life keeps us in stitches...as well as...on edge.
One recent morning while preparing to depart for school and work, I let the teenager deal with getting the toddler ready (mom departs at 6:30 am for work). After 15 minutes of bickering and crying (by both I might add), I headed downstairs to let the teenager finish what she had started:

Tony C: (yelling back upstairs) Girls! It is time to go...no...past time to go! Get a move on it!
Teenager: (with toddler screaming in the background) Dad...she won't let me put her clothes on her!
Toddler: Stop! Don't touch me! Stop!
Tony C: Carlee! If you don't let your sister help you get dressed...
Toddler: No! I want you to do it!
Tony C: If I have to come back up these stairs, you will definitely get a spanking for not listening! Let your sister dress you...we have to go now!
Toddler: Come spank me! I want a spanking! Then you can put my clothes on!
While I've never heard those words come out of the toddler's mouth again, I should have punished the teenager too for not finishing the task and letting a 2-year old get the best of her...but then I'm sure she has plenty more lessons still yet to come before she's off to college.
Funny how birth control can come in many different forms.
Friday, September 2, 2011
Three years and I'm still trying to figure this thing out...
Three years!! Today, I start my fourth year of blogging on Blogger while seriously contemplating a move to WordPress. Ironic. My very first post (Is it just me? I kinda doubt it...) was the beginning of a love affair that has been a number of things- fun, stressful, irritating, rewarding and satisfying just to name a few.
Just to do a bit of celebrating, I thought I would reissue the post that has received the most hits of my 258 muses. To be honest, I'm somewhat surprised by this post receiving 1286 hits since February of this year and claiming the spot. It's not even controversial! So without further adieu, I give you a day in the life of Joe Pony.
Thanks for continuing to read Tony C Today.
The Adventure of Joe Pony...(what we'll do for our kids).
Originally posted February 4, 2011
Having all girls, there's not very many toys for little boys in our house. I know better than to include the numerous sports toys and balls laying around the house because I understand the spirit of the Title IX of the Education Amendments of 1972. But I digress...
So me and the Crazy Tomato were playing with her My Little Pony toys the night before in our living room. She had one called...Rainbow or something, and wanted to know the name of the one I was playing with at the time.
Okay...I had a little fun with it too.

Joe Pony prepares for the mad dash that starts each workday for me. Between us, I don't think Joe combed its hair this morning.
The teenager just doesn't get the spirit of the situation and chalks it up...as usual...as dumb!
She seems to have forgotten the numerous tea parties yours truly attended between 1998 and 2001 as the international guest of tea drinking events known as Mr. Cumberbucket...
Joe Pony isn't required to wear a seat belt in my state because...well it's plastic. A legal loophole liberals haven't figured out to date.
Traffic was light this morning in the overcast commute.
We got to work a little ahead of schedule today. I hope Joe Pony doesn't get the wrong idea that's a normal occurrence for me.
That unkempt hair is killing me. How embarrassing!
Joe Pony had a difficult time comprehending the company's complex telecommunications system. Then again...so does everyone else at work.
A true student of Dale Carnegie principles, Joe Pony decided to give the Billing Department a hand since they were down a person today due to illness.
During a pretty lengthy post-lunch meeting, Joe Pony nodded off, so we decided to play the old 'everyone quietly leave the room' joke. It was a real hoot!
Joe Pony's making new friends fast by being good natured.
While visiting the Shipping and Receiving Department, Joe Pony met a long lost relative. It was a very nice surprise to the day, and we all gathered around and sang For He's a Jolly Good Fellow just to add to the festive moment.
I was completely shocked to find Joe Pony had wandered into the President's office and was trying to pull up a 'racey' website on his computer. He claims someone else put him up to it.
Luckily, the company firewall prevented me from having to access the computer later and do some selective web browser history cleaning.
All in all, it was a great experience bringing Joe Pony to work with me today. I just need to remember not to play with the rather large Molly Dolly with her before bed during the week. She's not very nice and might damage my reputation at work...
Just to do a bit of celebrating, I thought I would reissue the post that has received the most hits of my 258 muses. To be honest, I'm somewhat surprised by this post receiving 1286 hits since February of this year and claiming the spot. It's not even controversial! So without further adieu, I give you a day in the life of Joe Pony.
Thanks for continuing to read Tony C Today.
The Adventure of Joe Pony...(what we'll do for our kids).
Originally posted February 4, 2011
To say I love my daughters would be a gross understatement. I adore my girls! So needless to say, I was crushed when the 3-year old (aka the Crazy Tomato) was heartbroken and confused when I didn't take Joe Pony to work with me yesterday.
Who's Joe Pony you ask?
Having all girls, there's not very many toys for little boys in our house. I know better than to include the numerous sports toys and balls laying around the house because I understand the spirit of the Title IX of the Education Amendments of 1972. But I digress...
So me and the Crazy Tomato were playing with her My Little Pony toys the night before in our living room. She had one called...Rainbow or something, and wanted to know the name of the one I was playing with at the time.
Tony C: Joe.
I'm not very good at naming inanimate objects. Nicknames for real people I can whip out in a flash. Dolls...not so brilliant. So my baby blue pony was Joe Pony...despite the fact it was wearing a skirt. Hey! I don't judge peopl....pon...toy things. Okay?
When Mrs. Tony C told me the Crazy Tomato came into the living room the next morning and saw Joe Pony in the floor, it broke my heart to think she was disappointed or maybe thought I didn't have fun playing with her. So...for the benefit of my own personal Jan Brady (she's the middle child, keep up), I took Joe Pony to work with me today and documented the whole adventure for her to enjoy.
Okay...I had a little fun with it too.

Joe Pony prepares for the mad dash that starts each workday for me. Between us, I don't think Joe combed its hair this morning.
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The teenager just doesn't get the spirit of the situation and chalks it up...as usual...as dumb!
She seems to have forgotten the numerous tea parties yours truly attended between 1998 and 2001 as the international guest of tea drinking events known as Mr. Cumberbucket...
Joe Pony isn't required to wear a seat belt in my state because...well it's plastic. A legal loophole liberals haven't figured out to date.
Traffic was light this morning in the overcast commute.
We got to work a little ahead of schedule today. I hope Joe Pony doesn't get the wrong idea that's a normal occurrence for me.
That unkempt hair is killing me. How embarrassing!
Joe Pony had a difficult time comprehending the company's complex telecommunications system. Then again...so does everyone else at work.
A true student of Dale Carnegie principles, Joe Pony decided to give the Billing Department a hand since they were down a person today due to illness.
During a pretty lengthy post-lunch meeting, Joe Pony nodded off, so we decided to play the old 'everyone quietly leave the room' joke. It was a real hoot!
Joe Pony's making new friends fast by being good natured.
While visiting the Shipping and Receiving Department, Joe Pony met a long lost relative. It was a very nice surprise to the day, and we all gathered around and sang For He's a Jolly Good Fellow just to add to the festive moment.
I was completely shocked to find Joe Pony had wandered into the President's office and was trying to pull up a 'racey' website on his computer. He claims someone else put him up to it.
Luckily, the company firewall prevented me from having to access the computer later and do some selective web browser history cleaning.
All in all, it was a great experience bringing Joe Pony to work with me today. I just need to remember not to play with the rather large Molly Dolly with her before bed during the week. She's not very nice and might damage my reputation at work...
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Do what you do when you do what you do...
Why do you blog?
Just a few weeks ago, I was asked this very question by a lady who's a regular reader of Tony C Today. The follow-up question was a logical progressive inquisition.
How in the world do you come up with all those things you write?
As I recall, my response started with a light chuckle and mental echo of Mrs. Tony C answering for me with an expletive on the waste by-product of the bovine digestive tract. Not that she would ever actually say that...
I have to admit, the moment of recognition for me was...uncomfortable. Now, I'm by no means a shy person (those who personally know me can stop laughing). Never been accused of being a shy person. Quite probably at one time in my life, I might actually have been labeled as outspoken...and I dare to even say maybe overbearing. For a number of reasons, I feel safe in saying both characterizations are thankfully behind me. Still, that left the question dangling...why do I blog?
Pondering the questions for several days, I started deeply reflecting on my real motives for spending time each week pounding out anecdotes on my keyboard. I went back and read the first few months of post that started three years ago this coming Friday and discovered a much different tone than readers see today...more political, conservatively vernacular, postulational and maybe even cerebral.
Mentally projected Mrs. Tony C: BOOOOORRRRRING!
Yes. Maybe that too.
So why the change? Even more fundamentally, why do I do this? I realize today the answer to both questions is, in part, one in the same. Through blogging, I've discovered a venue to channel my love of writing. Sure. A personal journal might satisfy the same desire, but sharing my muses in an attempt to entertain others more closely fits my personally.
Entertain?
Now we're closing in on something. From a very early age, cowering away from the proverbial spotlight has never been in my makeup. That has an element of both good and bad, if the truth be told. In high school, I was the guy who twice hosted the annual Talent Show in the style of Chuck Barris a la' The Gong Show. No problem. In college, well...I'd rather not go there if you don't mind. As a Marine Officer, impromptu speaking was an actual rated skill on fitness reports and taught in basic training. No problem. In my job today, communicating effectively with people from different backgrounds and cultures is crucial to successful outcomes. No problem again.
Those are the good. The bad element is a bit less overt. When I've opined a statement concerning the decrepit state of our government, a certain amount of audaciousness goes with that view. Who am I to stake such a claim? Why should my thoughts be taken any more serious that any other political pundit...and we should ALL be pundits when it comes to civic issues like the political process. <-------- See! There...right there! A perfect example of the dilemma. What's it to me if Joe Blow could care less about the country's political quagmire? Why should everyone else see things the way I do (wouldn't that be nice...and boring)?
Stating an opinion and throwing it out on the internet for the world to see can be a...well...humbling experience at times. THAT is not necessarily a bad element. A maybe, just maybe, where my uneasiness came from in the opening stated exchange. Here's where the fog starts to clear for me.
Initially, my approach to blogging was to emphatically state my opinion on any given topic making sure to assert my Christian perspective. Political evangelicalism...if you will. Not necessarily a bad thing, but also not really who I am either. But a funny thing happened. As accurate (or not) as hit counters can be, I noticed a trend concerning the different topics I posted. Personal, more reflective post far exceeded hits over a more polarizing political issue post. GASP. Do all Christians not share the same political views? Shut the door!
Gradually, my blog has taken on a personality more closely resembling my own. Yes. I still on occasion dabble in the political sphere, but I think my true reason for writing Tony C Today is to share with others that an ordinary shlub like me making his way through life's journey can once in a while stop, poke a little fun at himself (maybe a few others) and still be genuinely thankful to a loving God that I know this life just isn't as good as it gets. Being a Christian has a number of aspects that go with the title,...but immune to a little fun in life isn't one of them.
I appreciate all of you for coming along on the ride.
...and thank you (and you know who you are) for asking the questions too. By the way...I guess I do it for Him because He lets me.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Go Tony C. Go!
I had the weirdest dream last night.
Not one of those NyQuil-induced, running from zombies kind of dreams either. I dreamt I was actually in the book Go, Dog. Go! Okay...so maybe is was like one of those NyQuil-induced, running from zombies kind of dreams...but I was cold medicine clean on my word.
Anyway, the 1961 classic by P.D. Eastman has always been one of my favorites. I believe Eastman understood the repetitive nature for parents of reading books to young children and managed to layer the book to appeal to adults as well as kids.
Then again, maybe I am just really that jejune.
So, here I am in the middle one of my all-time favorite books going through the story. Now, I know I've read this book a thousand times to both the teenager (when she was younger, of course) and now the Crazy Tomato. Baby C is on deck for what's sure to be more recital than readings for her turn at the classic tale of dogs gone wild. To say I'm familiar with the story, plot and characters is attuned to saying Ronald McDonald is familiar with Happy Meals...hey wait...okay, go ahead. I set that one up for you way too easy.
I was driving to work this morning seriously wondering if this is how it all starts. First, you begin dreaming you're part of childhood stories. Then, you begin exiting the mall looking for your parked car wandering aimless before finally realize you didn't even drive. Next, you start repeating the same stories over and over completely oblivious to prior tellings. Somewhere around here in the analysis I realized...that all of the above already apply to me! GASP
I changed my destination to Walmart before work to pick up some adult diapers. I mean...that's obviously next in my rapid decline into dementia, and I wear Khaki pants every single day. Not going to chance 'it' happening and me not even realizing 'it' while walking around the office. SIGH
About this point, I looked around to survey the progression of my daily commute. Line of cars bumper-to-bumper, full speed ahead. Typical. Wait a second...this looks very familiar. Yes...it...does. Hey! My daily commute looks a lot like...
...come to think of it, I know Mrs. Tony C and I have had exchanges like this (maybe not about hats) too many times to count...

...this, looks a lot like...
Earlier Saturday mornings at the Tony C estate...
Finally I realized...that's it! I didn't just dream I was in Go Dogs. Go!...I actually live there nearly every day! The hectic pace of modern day life in a dog-eat-dog world...there's an obvious connection! Maybe I'm not ready for the Haldol just yet after all. SHEW
It's also reassuring to know that even in my kooky dream last night, there was Mrs. Tony C cheering me on...
...but I won't be sharing that part of the dream with you folks. Sorry.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Just hang on…I’m about to get jiggy with it.
The week prior, the bride discovered that the band she had booked for the reception was bailing on her. In the realm of Murphy’s Law, weddings and receptions are always ground zero. But alas, for every problem, there is always a solution! So a quick text to yours truly and the reception music void is filled by DJ Tony C…
Okay. When you stop laughing, I will finish the story.
Saturday wasn’t my first music-spinning rodeo. I’ve been booked on a number of special occasions, including a wedding, to man the mike and the mix. My…ahem…skills come with two special features- 1. I can be counted on to be there, and 2. I’m cheap…as in free.
Of course, Mrs. Tony C immediately meets hearing the request with skepticism. She quickly makes two of her own counterpoints- 1. You don’t have DJ sound equipment, and 2. Nobody wants to listen to that old crap on your iPod.
Ouch. That really stings. My music is considered classic…not old…thank you very much.
As I pointed out prior, this wasn't my first gig, and I had a secret weapon to address one of her two issues. DJ Tony C happens to come with the best sound man in the business (aka Sound Daddy Grand) who happens to be equipped to the teeth. Not only that, in all of my prior performances, said Sound Daddy Grand sets everything up, sound checks and has the rig ready to roll when show time comes. Yes. He’s really spoiled me.
DJ equipment- check.
Without hesitation, I jumped into the request with both feet. The concept of an old dude cranking out tunes at a young people wedding never phased me. Why? Quite simply…you just have to let the bride decide the music! Brilliant.
iTunes to iPod + Sound Daddy Grand’s set up=good time had by all.
So, a quick text to the bride and this party is ready to get started. I’m going to apologize in advance because I might get a little teary eyed at this next part. The response I received was…gold. The bride wanted her first dance to be to When I Say I Do and the daddy/daughter dance to Cinderella.
Check and check.
When I inquired what kind of music she liked, I believe God Himself smiled upon me. She replied she loved…80’s music!
Big check and a plus sign to boot!
DJ Tony C: She likes 80’s music. Hear that…80’s music. Journey is her favorite (tear)!
Mrs. Tony C: No way! She really wants 80’s music? How are we dancing to that?
DJ Tony C: Like MC Hammer baby! (breaking into side shuffle)
Mrs. Tony C: Please don’t do that at the reception. I beg you just please don’t. Are you crying?
Just to get Mrs. Tony C off my back, I download something called Cha Cha Shuffle and Cupid Slide or Cupid Shuffle and Cha Cha Slide. Apparently, there’s an overwhelming need at a large gathering of celebratory white people for line dancing. I’m just saying…it’s indeed a sad spectacle.
Things only got better for me when the wedding planner gave me the emcee agenda and directed that soft, mellow music be played while people were eating so they could comfortably converse.
Soft, mellow music like Five for Fighting, James Ingram, Aaron Neville and James Taylor? Check, check, check and check.
I must admit final validation came when a younger, 20-something female approached my station:
Young female: What is this song playing?
DJ Tony C: Donny Osmond. Sacred Emotion from 1989.
Young female: Donny Osmond? Wow. I really like that.
DJ Tony C: It is a nice song for a wedding reception (Yes!).
Granted, Mrs. Tony C was looking way hot at the wedding and reception…but it was DJ Tony C burning down the house with the best sound outside of any known elevator. Now I’ve just got to get that shuffle/slide crap off my iPod in case I’m ever in a car accident.
DJ Tony C with the lovely newlyweds
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Pasteur?! Like we wouldn't have eventually figured that one out on our own...
I had to chuckle today when I came across a short article about the origin of the idiom pardon my French. No. There weren't really any major revelations or even an interesting Paul Harvey-esc Now you know the rest of the story moment. Truth be told...no one seems to really know from where the expression hails.It's no secret, after all, that most Americans closely associate the French with profanity anyway. And why shouldn't we? The European country seems to have quickly forgotten that German would now be their nation language if not for a few of the homeboys travelling over to help out a couple of generations ago. Thus, the prevailing condescending attitude of their red, white and blue directed at our stars and stripes is enough to make a red-blooded American want to...well...curse.
Calm down mom...I said want to. Put your soap bar back up.
To make matters even worse, Spike TV opened the third season of Deadliest Warriors with a head-to-head battle between General George Washington and Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte and declared Washington a narrow victor.
Shut the front door!
That little...weasel... wouldn't stand a chance against our nation's first president. If Napoleon couldn't get the better of a Duke named after a fancy-smancy beef dish, how in the world could he beat a man who turned down being a king?! Turned...it...down!! Washington was a man among men...and great men at that.
If you're a conspiracy theorist, the French are straight in your cross hairs as a major reason for child obesity in this country. What innocent 4-year old doesn't love french fries or french toast? Maybe the master plan is leading our nation into eating its way to third-world status with the French, Chinese, Mexicans and Italians behind it all?
Sweet fancy Moses!
Back to the French and profanity link.
So, exactly why do we use the common apologetic expression after a slip of the tongue? Why not pardon my German or pardon my Swahili? How about a nation-neutral pardon my rudeness or pardon my lack of verbal sophistication?
Personally, I would like to hear pardon my ignorant, unsophisticated use of the beautiful English language and for subjugating you to this verbose and awkward disclaimer. I'm neither an attorney nor an attorney spokesperson. I'm just a neanderthal-like knucklehead who often forgets four-letter words never, ever actually make people take me more serious.
Brilliant!
Looking back over that statement, I suddenly have a clearer understanding of why I don't drink champagne, eat Dannon yogurt, read Women's Day magazine, drive on B.F Goodrich tires, use Bic razors, wear Mephisto shoes, watch Jerry Springer (look it up) or cook in T-Fal cookware.
And by the way...I think Dijon mustard taste like...poupon! Pardon the French.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Well there you have it…the delicate genius says there’s no God.
One of my favorite times of the day is just after Baby C wakes up. She will contently lie in her crib playing with her feet or favorite stuffed animal and babble or hum in the most adorable way. Mrs. Tony C and I will often take it all in via the baby monitor from our bedroom consumed by the pride and satisfaction of the wonderful creation we have managed. Aren’t we so special…
Well, actually we’re not…according to Stephen Hawking.
Call it inquisition, self-induced aggravation or just plan geekdome, but I’m drawn to shows on the Discovery Channel and the Science Channel. I guess it’s that whole scorpion and the frog anecdote…it’s just my nature...I’m sorry.
So, I spent part of my Sunday night watching a new series on the Science Channel called Curiosity. Ironic. The first episode promised to answer the question- Did God create the universe? which to me was obviously a rhetorical question.
Apparently Hawking didn’t get that memo.
Accounting for skipped commercials (yes, it was recorded), I watched and listened for the better part of 40 minutes while the mostly narrated words of the famous physicist explained how the entire universe from the very creation could be explained using the existing laws of nature. His conclusion, however, was the most compelling (Spoiler alert! In case you’re watching later).
According to Hawking since time didn’t exist until the Big Bang that created our universe, there was in fact no time for God to exist within…therefore, there is no God.
(cricket noises)
(Hand raised) Excuse me…I have just a few questions Dr. Hawking.
I found it very convenient how you quickly summed up the problem in your theory of something being created from nothing as a complex issue of quantum physics. Since matter is merely energy at, shall we say a slower pace, all that was needed was energy and space to create all the matter we see today. But where did the energy and space originate? In all of recorded science, there is not a single know source of infinite energy…discounting the human soul of course.
On the issue of the bang in the aforementioned Big Bang, if only energy and space existed before the singularity that created all we see today and time came into existence at that moment, doesn’t that negate your hero Einstein's theory of relativity since the speed of light squared is a matter of time and distance? Did I miss that explanation?
Last one. Since Newton’s Laws of Motion are also a fundamental building block of your conclusion, where did the external force or push to get the cosmic ball rolling originate? Granted my knowledge concerning Newton’s brilliant theory is approaching the very limit of my formal education in physics, but according to you, these laws can’t be broken…ever…so I’m having a hard time reconciling how F=ma when there is neither mass nor acceleration (element of time) in your pre-Big Bang theory, and even most grade school kids understand the swing just won’t go without the F (force).
Maybe it’s me…but this all looks and sounds a lot like another very misleading theory being sold by a snake about an apple a long time ago…without the fancy graphics and reenactments of history.
I guess it all boils down to faith no matter how you try to explain how the universe began. Sorry Steve…your theories and equations require far too much for me. I’ll just stick with what I know.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
The Truth isn't found half way between right and wrong...
Friends...I've got to admit I'm in a complete state of both shock and disgust.
I tried to catch a little of the national evening news before church last night. Rarely do I look at the local newspaper or watch the local television news because it's just so laden with what I call 'blodder news.' More on that in a moment.
One of the lead stories last night was about the international federal roundup of a group of cyber-child porn freaks. The largest in our country's history. I couldn't help but think to myself watching the story...you can run, but you can't hide scumbags. Since I was pressed for time, I made sure the rest of the news was spinning to the DVR to watch later and headed to church.
A very close friend of mine after the service inquired if I'd seen the news about someone we both knew. I had heard he was in the custody of federal officials, but what he showed me next was...well...very distressing. The man in question was actually one of the 52 people arrested in connection with the national story I had watched just hours prior. It was a local news story. All I could think was...how can that be?
This man (I use that term strictly in the biological sense) was a local police office. Smart. Mannerly. Not a guy you would ever associate with such a heinous crime. Yet, he was one of 72 people worldwide federal investigators were accusing of perpetrating a child pornography distribution ring on the internet. Unbelievable.
When I got home and pulled up the local story to read, it directed to the national story that was also on all the news stations. Folks. I'm not naive. I know we live in a dark, sinful world. But the things I read on the national media story truly made me sick to my stomach. I stopped reading and closed my eyes in prayer. I desperately needed the warm love of my Father to counter the ice running through my veins.
I've written about yet another guy I know in prison today for similar atrocities.Many of us who know him are still in complete disbelief about his revelation over 2 years ago. My point isn't to counter what I said in that post...because to God...sin is sin. We all are guilty and deserve death, but by grace we can overcome that death. In return, we are expected to love one another...sins and all. Even with that knowledge deeply rooted in my core belief system, I still find myself consumed with anger by the facts presented in yesterday's story. My mind struggles but fails to fully comprehend the details I read. Finally, a mental image of Satan laughing at it all causes me to pray once more. This is the fallen world we live in due to sin...
The Casey Anthony story didn't catch my attention like it did the rest of the nation. Yes. The story is very tragic on a number of levels. Even so, it grossly fails in comparison to a group of people dedicated to facilitating themselves and others who participate in the intentional harming of children, from babies to teenagers, in sexual ways impossible for any normal, rational human being to understand. All to gratify and promote their own demented urges. Freaks who take pleasure in watching actual living, breathing kids being tortured for their entertainment.
And I personally know one of them...
I came very close to not writing this post today. I'm both saddened and embarrassed to know both people I've mentioned. Dread hovers over me like a dark cloud wondering if there will be another surprise in the future along these lines. A small part of my faith waivers as I grapple with thoughts of vengeance...which leads to even more feelings of shame. Again...I must stop to pray.
Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: "It is mine to avenge; I will repay," says the Lord. Romans 12:19
Honestly...I'm struggling today in the WWJD way my friends...and just needed an ear.
I tried to catch a little of the national evening news before church last night. Rarely do I look at the local newspaper or watch the local television news because it's just so laden with what I call 'blodder news.' More on that in a moment.
One of the lead stories last night was about the international federal roundup of a group of cyber-child porn freaks. The largest in our country's history. I couldn't help but think to myself watching the story...you can run, but you can't hide scumbags. Since I was pressed for time, I made sure the rest of the news was spinning to the DVR to watch later and headed to church.
A very close friend of mine after the service inquired if I'd seen the news about someone we both knew. I had heard he was in the custody of federal officials, but what he showed me next was...well...very distressing. The man in question was actually one of the 52 people arrested in connection with the national story I had watched just hours prior. It was a local news story. All I could think was...how can that be?
This man (I use that term strictly in the biological sense) was a local police office. Smart. Mannerly. Not a guy you would ever associate with such a heinous crime. Yet, he was one of 72 people worldwide federal investigators were accusing of perpetrating a child pornography distribution ring on the internet. Unbelievable.
When I got home and pulled up the local story to read, it directed to the national story that was also on all the news stations. Folks. I'm not naive. I know we live in a dark, sinful world. But the things I read on the national media story truly made me sick to my stomach. I stopped reading and closed my eyes in prayer. I desperately needed the warm love of my Father to counter the ice running through my veins.
I've written about yet another guy I know in prison today for similar atrocities.Many of us who know him are still in complete disbelief about his revelation over 2 years ago. My point isn't to counter what I said in that post...because to God...sin is sin. We all are guilty and deserve death, but by grace we can overcome that death. In return, we are expected to love one another...sins and all. Even with that knowledge deeply rooted in my core belief system, I still find myself consumed with anger by the facts presented in yesterday's story. My mind struggles but fails to fully comprehend the details I read. Finally, a mental image of Satan laughing at it all causes me to pray once more. This is the fallen world we live in due to sin...
The Casey Anthony story didn't catch my attention like it did the rest of the nation. Yes. The story is very tragic on a number of levels. Even so, it grossly fails in comparison to a group of people dedicated to facilitating themselves and others who participate in the intentional harming of children, from babies to teenagers, in sexual ways impossible for any normal, rational human being to understand. All to gratify and promote their own demented urges. Freaks who take pleasure in watching actual living, breathing kids being tortured for their entertainment.
And I personally know one of them...
I came very close to not writing this post today. I'm both saddened and embarrassed to know both people I've mentioned. Dread hovers over me like a dark cloud wondering if there will be another surprise in the future along these lines. A small part of my faith waivers as I grapple with thoughts of vengeance...which leads to even more feelings of shame. Again...I must stop to pray.
Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: "It is mine to avenge; I will repay," says the Lord. Romans 12:19
Honestly...I'm struggling today in the WWJD way my friends...and just needed an ear.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Help! I've fallen and can't reach my iPod!
Middle-aged stinks!
When I see this commercial for Urloic, a medication for people who suffer from gout, I have to admit I see an old guy. My apologies to the actor who brilliantly nails the part...of an old guy who suffers from gout.
So if gout is an affliction on the elderly, then why in the blue blazes did it attack me this past week?!
Okay. Just stop! I know you've already read this year about bad backs, sebaceous cyst and the battle of the middle-aged spread. Maybe you should add denial to the list as well. While I don't necessarily think of myself as old, apparently medical demographics has a different point-of-view. I guess that it's time for me to face the facts of the mileage starting to pile up on the old odometer...and hard miles at that.
There are few things more humbling in life than trying to out crawl your 8-month old to get to the bathroom door (I know I would have won too if I'd been even with her at the start. Little cheater!). But that's the lowly place I found myself this weekend when the uric acid mechanism in my left ankle went haywire. So just what is this gout thing? How did I get it? I mean after all, I don't eat real sausage anymore. Just the fake turkey stuff. Sausage is what always triggered an attack in Uncle Bob.
The scientific answer is this:
All I know is this:
Now before you go making fun of my white ankle socks and Crocs, please take note to the swelling in my left ankle first. And that's much improved! Mrs. Tony C tells me the white socks with open shoes is an old man thing. Apparently either she isn't getting the memos or completely in denial about my decrepit state too.
But I'm all about the fix. So from the comfort of my own bed with leg properly elevated on pillows, a quick internet search produced a plethora of information...and information is power...even for old people. While the forces of DNA can't be disallowed for my latest affliction, diet seems to play a large part too. No problem there. Been working rather diligently on that one already. The key to preventing a flare up seems to be avoiding foods rich in the compound purine. Okay. So what are those foods?
From the Web-MD website:
When I see this commercial for Urloic, a medication for people who suffer from gout, I have to admit I see an old guy. My apologies to the actor who brilliantly nails the part...of an old guy who suffers from gout.
So if gout is an affliction on the elderly, then why in the blue blazes did it attack me this past week?!
Okay. Just stop! I know you've already read this year about bad backs, sebaceous cyst and the battle of the middle-aged spread. Maybe you should add denial to the list as well. While I don't necessarily think of myself as old, apparently medical demographics has a different point-of-view. I guess that it's time for me to face the facts of the mileage starting to pile up on the old odometer...and hard miles at that.
There are few things more humbling in life than trying to out crawl your 8-month old to get to the bathroom door (I know I would have won too if I'd been even with her at the start. Little cheater!). But that's the lowly place I found myself this weekend when the uric acid mechanism in my left ankle went haywire. So just what is this gout thing? How did I get it? I mean after all, I don't eat real sausage anymore. Just the fake turkey stuff. Sausage is what always triggered an attack in Uncle Bob.
The scientific answer is this:
All I know is this:
Now before you go making fun of my white ankle socks and Crocs, please take note to the swelling in my left ankle first. And that's much improved! Mrs. Tony C tells me the white socks with open shoes is an old man thing. Apparently either she isn't getting the memos or completely in denial about my decrepit state too.
But I'm all about the fix. So from the comfort of my own bed with leg properly elevated on pillows, a quick internet search produced a plethora of information...and information is power...even for old people. While the forces of DNA can't be disallowed for my latest affliction, diet seems to play a large part too. No problem there. Been working rather diligently on that one already. The key to preventing a flare up seems to be avoiding foods rich in the compound purine. Okay. So what are those foods?
From the Web-MD website:
Examples of high-purine choices to avoid:
•Beef
•Pork
•Lamb
•Certain seafood (canned tuna, dark meat fish)
•Certain shellfish (shrimp, lobster, scallops)
•Non-diet soft drinks
•Beer
•Liquor
What?! I'm just thankful Honey Bunches of Oats and turkey sausage isn't on the list or I wouldn't have anything left to eat!
Wow middle-aged stinks.
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