Not too shabby.

Spent the last two three four hours sitting in front of my computer browsing old digital photos that we have stored. Picture after picture brought back so many great memories. I'm sitting here laughing aloud... and then sighing deeply as I watch my children grow up with the spin of the mousewheel.

Today Samuel got slammed in the head with a soccer ball at practice. Sent him in to the air with both feet flying ... the audience gasped, waiting for the anticipated wailing of a little boy. Ah... but they waited in vain. This is no ordinary boy people! Come on! He is a man in training. And as such, he sucked it up, shrugged it off, and got up for another run at it! --
"Adda' boy son. Adda' boy."



I've also just added a flickr badge to my blog... for those so inclined, you can now scroll to the very bottom of my blog to see some select photos from the life of yours truly. Hitting REFRESH will bring up some new random pics for you to look at.

A good reminder of some of the best things in life: Laughter & Loved Ones.

Warning

The Master Kat tells me that it is better to sail on the wrong boat, under the wrong flag, than no ship at all.
He tells me that going through the wrong gateway, even with the pain and death that may accompany such a choice, is preferable to the slow and agonizing death that a life of paralysis promises.
Something, even the wrong thing ... is better than nothing.

He warns me: if nothing changes, I will die like this, or worse.

It is a scary proposition.

Back in the day

Phone calls today that bring butterflies to my stomach.

"More weird stuff from the past?" Kinda. Read more...A dedicated Morman uncle of mine called me out of the blue last night and left me a voicemail ... just calling to say hello and see how life is treating me. He is a wonderful man by everything that I can see: a hard-working sort of fella' with a warm way about him. The last time we saw one another was at a family reunion. I remember talking with him and his wife for over an hour about the nature of God and Life. We wrestled back and forth, discussing and arguing various differences in our faith. It was a good conversation, nothing super heated or mean spirited. Just your every day Mormon vs. Evangelical attempts to convert one another sort of a thing. I think we ended the talk with a unified prayer and hugs. He mailed me a copy of The Book of Mormon, which still sits in my bottom right desk drawer here at the office, barely opened. I told him I'd read it but I haven't. That was over two years ago. Now, he calls... and I'm glad to hear his voice. The butterflies come from one area alone: I'm embarassed at the state of my faith.

A second voicemail was waiting for me this morning. It was from a very cool kat I've known since my RadioShack days back when I was working my way through college. Back then, this friend of mine was a hooligan in every sense of the word. I remember him punching a co-worker of ours in the nose, nearly breaking it, right in the middle of a shift with customers in the store and everything. The guy had it coming, was mouthing of like crazy to this buddy of mine, who was not the sort of guy one should be mouthing off to. Anyhow, this friend of mine was living the run and gun, drink it up, love 'em and leave 'em sort of lifestyle but dispite our differing lifestyles, for one reason or another, we enjoyed one another's company. From time to time we'd grab a bite to eat together at lunch or after work. I remember one night we played hoops out near his apartment complex. I had challenged him to a game of 21. Lets just say, he beat me... BAD. And I remember another night after a long night's work at RadioShack. That night, as we stacked boxes and counted transistors, he opened up to me about his life and some drama that he was going through. I prayed with him and afterwards looked him in the eyes, both of us tearing up, "Bro, God is after you... I can feel it. Do you know anything about Jesus?" He had grown up going to church, but abandoned his relationship with God in his late teens. "Yeah... I know Him. But that sh** ain't for me man." ... Three years later, he was worshiping God with a beautiful bride and two children. He had become a Christian rap artist and invited me to see his show one day. With the family and some friends in tow, we showed up to see him perform. He had some great chops. In the middle of it, he stopped the show and shared his testimony. Yours truly was pointed out in the audience, asked to stand, and was lavished thanks and praise for my instrumental roll in bringing him 'back around to the Lord'. It was an honor, and a humbling experience to feel so used to encourage this awesomely talented guy. ... And so, I hear his voice on my cell phone today, and mixed with my joy in hearing from him is this feeling of shame for where my confused self is at today.

All my life, I've been a banner carrier and trumpeter for Christ. I've marched when given the order. And I've done my best to encourage others to listen for their own calling and respond ... And here I am now, running in to friends and family whom I haven't spoken to in so long and I'm saddened. Its as though I spent time recruiting them to an army for which I no longer fight for anymore. What do I say to them about it all? My whole identity has been so tied to Christ my whole life that if I were to say nothing, I'd feel utterly fraudulent. It would be as though they were talking to the regular ol' Christ-serving Miroslav, when in reality they'd be talking to the I-Don't-Know-Which-Way-Is-Up Miroslav. Do I owe it to them to tell them where I'm at when the inevitable "So how's it goin' man?" comes up?

I've called 'em both back. Left two voicemails this morning.

Walking through these last several years has been the most frustrating, confusing, humbling, sad experience ever. I swear.

Strong words

I wish I could have heard the complete, unedited version with the other side's response.

Still... this is worth listening to.

More clips can be found at http://www.memritv.org

A bachelor's high life examined

So she is gone. Took the kids and got on a plane and left. The house is so quiet. I'm lonely and miss all three of them.

Read more...Now before you get too freaked out, I suppose I should clarify and say that she is coming back on Thursday. She didn't leave leave. Just headed down south to visit a girlfriend for a couple of days.

I had pictured these three days like they'd be just blissful me time. Nonstop fun, videogame heaven, junk food, scary movies (which she NEVER watches and so I never do either), and good times with guy friends. You know, time to let my hair down and do all the things that marriage and child raising suffocates out of me.

After dropping the family off at the airport, I did what any other husband recently liberated from his wife and kids would do: I zoomed home and cleaned the house. I am the clean freak of the family, so having a chance to clean the house MY WAY and keep it that way for several days sounded so ... ahhhhh. Having a nice extra-clean house with no toys in sight sounded so wonderful to me. After about an hour, the place was spick and span(sp?). Then I spent a couple of hours with my precious (thankfully my subscription expires tomorrow, effectively cutting off my virtual-crack supply), ran some errands and then headed in to the office for a long day's work.

When I came home, the most peculiar feeling hit me. I had nothing to do. Or better said, I had everything to do ... but no desire to do any of it. I felt empty.

I got just a glimpse of what life must feel like for the succesful, but lonely business person. Money in the bank. Nice clean sports car (I had it washed and waxed recently). A beautiful home, all clean inside. A well stocked fridge. Entertainment options everywhere: plasma TV, top-end gaming computer, Xbox 360, poker house ten minutes away or online.... just everything a guy could ask for. And yet, as I walked in to my quite home with just the faint sound of the A/C blowing and saw the big red ZERO on my answering machine, all the nice things around me all seemed meaningless to me. It was not too unlike my recent trip to Hawaii when all hell broke loose with some friends, leaving all of us with broken hearts while living in the midst of paradise. There was something almost cruel about it. As if the beauty of our surroundings mocked our pain. ... Yes, and so this empty house full of guy tech toys mocked me.

To ease the pain, I headed to Blockbuster to find a war movie to enjoy. I figure watching some people shoot each other might make me feel better. You know... turn the volume up twice as loud as I'm ever allowed to when the wife is home and just veg. It took about fourty five minutes to do it, but I finally found a couple of movies I thought I'd enjoy, went to the counter to discover that the coupons I was trying to use to rent the movies for free had already been used earlier in the week, and that in fact we had a $9 balance. Apparently we hadn't returned The Pink Panther in time, so now we owned it. Bah. "Just forget it.", I said to the clerk. I left with my money in my wallet, but with no movies to watch. Talk about insult to injury.

Came home, jumped on the Xbox 360 with some friends and family and played video games for a while. Then I ate some cereal ... and hit the sack.

What a boring, lame life without my family here.

But thats not really the main point to this post. The point, or question rather is this: why do all these activities seem so fun when my loved ones are here? Thats just some jacked up sh**. When my wife and kids are here, and they want to spend time with me, just about all I want to do is withdraw from them in one form or another. What the heck is that all about?

This time away from my family has brought this problem clearly in to focus for me. Its almost as if when they are around, I think of them as an obligation ... or a task to be completed ... so that I can get on to what I really enjoy. The weird thing is, I know there is no fulfillment in the mindlessness of games and gambling (or whatever other 'fun' activity is on my calendar), but I'm drawn to them anyhow. Its as if on some really low level, I believe doing these things means I've 'made it'. Of course, I'm overstating the condition of things (as usual). Its not as though I never enjoy my wife or kids... I'm just focusing on this inner problem of mine that I know exists to some degree.

And as I scrutinize this down to an even deeper level, I don't think its at all about video games or gambling per se... or even about avoiding time with my family (althought that is part of it). Its hard to put in to words...

I seemed to have formed this idea in my mind that the Really-Enjoyable-Life means not having to work hard yet having lots of money, having a clean house without ever lifing a finger to clean it, and freedom to play (in whatever form that takes) without any boundaries other than what I set. Yes... I want a clean yard without having to fire up the lawn mower, I want children to enjoy without having to do much diaper changing, I want a growing business without having to invest my energy or talents in to it. I've always called this efficiency and boasted of my ability to accomplish lots without doing much (if any) of the actualy work myself.

I don't think its laziness. Thats too simple a term for this particular sickness. And its not for lack of work ethic, I know how to work hard. Its something else. Gluttony comes to mind. Oh wait. I just Wiki'd 'work ethic' and that lead me to 'slacker'. Perhaps I am in fact a uncontented, successful slacker.

Yup. Thats it. I've ventured down the path suggested by Plato and found that I am left wanting with all this free time. I am finding that the hard work of life, in and of itself, is important and valuable. My current outlook on life has me avoiding hard work at all cost, only seeking financial success, free time, and relaxation as the goals to be sought after. What I'm finding is that this supposed high life ain't all its cracked up to be.

Part of me feels driven 'back to work'... back to the known and already experienced feeling of a hard day's work. But then again, perhaps Plato knew of something greater... a use of this free time that I have that will allow me to experience and enjoy life even MORE than a simple hard day's work.

All of this to say that once again, I'm being brought back to the old adage, "Life is about the journey, not the destination."

So, I ask you blog-readers, how do I change this deeply seated mindset of mine that leaves me empty? And where do I go from here?

A day late and a dollar short.

She walked up to the counter at the coffee shop and handed the card to the plainly dressed cashier who examined the name on the card.

"Miroslav? I went to highschool with a guy named Miroslav."

"Oh yeah? That's my husband! What a small world..."

*Awkward pause*

"What did you say your name was?", my wife asked the cashier.

"Susan. ... But I doubt he will remember me. He tormented me back in highschool; pretty much made my life miserable."

The story continues...
Yeah. Wow. ... I couldn't believe it when my wife called me this morning and told me she had ran in to an old acquaintance of mine. Since I spent most of my life in the same town, its not too uncommon to run in to people from the past. But I'd never experienced anything like this before. I was floored.

"Are you serious?", my wife asked. Then, trying to use a little humor to bridge the awkward distance that had developed so quickly in the conversation, "That's it. I'm filing for divorce as soon as I see him!"

"Oh, its no big deal. We all do things in life that hurt other people. We've all done things in our life that we regret..."

Two girls I knew back in highschool jumped in to my memory. They both had a reputation for being promiscous and we shared a History class together. They were both hurting, socially on the fringe sort of people. I remember countless afternoons, sitting around during class poking fun at them with at least two other guys in the class. At the time, I thought of it as harmless. But a couple of years in to college I remember watching an episode of Oprah where they reunited people with their childhood bullies. When I saw these grown adults on TV shedding real tears over events that happened in elementary and highschool, I realized that my 'teasing' had on several occasions gone far over the line and had likely caused some serious emotional damage to these two young women. In fact, there were some evil and cruel things said to them. Pretty much all of the extremely cruel things that were said were voiced by a group of older guys that I now realize I was trying to look cool in front of. But I did my fair share. I laughed loudly, pointed my fingers at the girls, and even chipped in a sharp witted dagger from time to time. God... I remember at least one occasion when one gal ran off crying and didn't return to class for a couple of days. Ugh.

But what do you do now? Twelve years later I don't even remember their names. I have vague images of their faces, but I'm sure I wouldn't recognize either of them if I saw them on the street. I don't own a yearbook. And I don't really keep in touch with anybody from my highschool days.

So, I was actually a little bit excited when my wife discovered this old highschool alumni of mine at the coffee shop. Perhaps some of my past mistakes could be made right. Nervously, I picked up the phone. I was determined to get together with her to apologize face to face. And what better opportunity than NOW to call her. Yes... and perhaps I could track down her girlfriend from back in the day and apologize to her as well.

"Hey there Susan, its Miroslav."

Nervous laughter on the other end of the line, "Uh... hey..."

"My wife was in your coffee shop today and she told me that she ran in to you. I wanted to call you to see if we could get together sometime in person. I owe you an apology."

"Oh... that's not necessary. Its not a big deal. I was just giving your wife a hard time really."

"Susan, I just feel really badly. I've actually thought about this for years. {interject Oprah story here} ... Until now I've had no way to get in touch with you. Wasn't there another girl that we picked on also?"

"Hmmm. I can't remember another girl. But there was this guy. We were all in Economics together. But you know what, its not that big of a deal."

"I really appreciate your gracefulness Susan. I don't deserve it. Although you are being very kind to me in saying that its not a big deal, I want you to know its important to me. And I want to apologize for what I did back then. It was wrong of me. Will you forgive me?"

"Totally... We all do stupid things sometimes in life. ... Thank you for calling."

"Thank YOU again, for your forgiveness and gracefulness. Goodbye."

*click*

And then, I'm left to wrestle with the fact that she was not one of the two gals from history class. In fact she represents a completely different set of people that I hurt whom I hurt... seriously enough for her to remember my name and to bring it up to a complete stranger, my wife at that.

I feel like a complete pile right now. And that is with nothing said of the fact that at that time I was one of the most vocal Christian voices on the campus. Yuck.

Part of me want to call Susan back and get that other guy's phone number and call him and apologize. I have a vague memory of him being the heavyset gay Hispanic guy on campus. I can only imagine what I must have said to him. The other part of me thinks it would be pretty disingenuous to call this guy I don't even remember interacting with to apologize for things I don't remember saying. What a jerk I am.

And that's really the most upsetting part of it all. None of what I did or said back then to Susan even put a blip on my heart's radar. I don't remember any of it. I now realize I barely even remember her.

I wonder if Hitler felt like this.

Good TV

Hands down, the best new TV show around: Who Wants To Be A Superhero?

And yes, I am serious. Watch it. I promise you will like it.

Almost war...

We mourn the lives of the thousands of dead in the Middle East, and well we should. But contrast that to the tens of millions of lives lost in WWII. Now THAT was war.

Every day, with every news broadcast, I'm more and more convinced that we are heading towards a large scale, multi-national World War that will end with millions dead. And in the end, perhaps that is the only way.

Today it is reported that the Hezbollah are using advanced Russian made weaponry in their fight against Israel. Odd... I thought the Russian arms sales were only to Iran, that peaceloving defensive minded nation. You mean, *GASP*, the Iranian government is supplying Hezbollah with weaponry? NO!

In the Blue corner : The US and Israel
And in the Red corner : Iran, Syria, Hezbollah, Hamas ... (and the list of moderate Arab countries aggresively overtaken by the radical extremists threatens to expand)

The audience waits with baited breath as the nicks and bruises mount, giving just a hint of the the blood that may very well pour...

You are invited!

If you are in the Sacramento area ... you are invited to mi casa for a special viewing of Obsession. The official time and date to be announced depending on the response, but I'm thinking of ...

UPDATED: Saturday, August 26th around 7:30pmish

I'd like to watch the DVD and then have a roundtable discussion type of thang afterwards for a bit. Righties, Lefties, Strongly-Convinced, and the Thouroughly-Confused ... anybody who is looking for some good discussion are welcome. Hardliners who want to come to lay the smack down hardcore, not so much.

Leave a note here if you'd like to join us and which date would work for you, k?