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A One-Girl Reception Committee

Mon, 09 Nov 2009 19:27:40 GMT

I expected to slip into the house quietly, grab a quick bite and then go up to catch a little football before bed.

It was a teaching night and I was getting home later than usual. I quietly opened the door and got a surprise in the form of my 3-year-old girl.

It startled me at first. I looked up and there she was standing there expectantly.

She appeared to be the only one in the house who was awake. Of course, I was concerned thinking about all the trouble an unsupervised girl that age could get into downstairs.

“Hi Daddy!” she said happily.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded. I instantly felt badly as I saw disappointment and hurt swell up in her face.

“I just wanted to see you when you got home Daddy,” she said softly. “I wanna peanut butter sandwich too.”

I swept her up in my arms and gave her a kiss. My teaching days are long, often arduous 14-hour affairs, but I should never be too tired to accept a little girl’s love.

Besides, this girl has always been a night owl. She doesn’t need much of an excuse to stay up late most nights since she doesn’t have school and can sleep in the next day.

We both had a late dinner together. I couldn’t help but ask her why she wasn’t upstairs sleeping with her brother and her mother.

“Daddy, I couldn’t go to sleep without kissing you good night,” she said.

I felt like even more of a heel now. What could I have done to deserve such unconditional love? We finished up and I took her upstairs.

My wife was stirring and she saw us come into the room. She raised herself up and looked at us sleepily.

“Look, I had a one-girl reception committee,” I told my wife.

She called my Baby Girl’s name out. However, she was tired. She had a long day too so I let her go back to sleep.

The next morning, my wife said she was a bit aggravated that she had crawled out of bed and gone downstairs. However, she's always been a night owl and we'll have to be mindful of that in the future.

We cuddled up together on the couch and watched a little Monday Night Football. As she lay in arms finally giving way to sleep, I thought about what a miracle she was and how we were so blessed to have her. I thought once again of my three-day trek to get home from Iraq in time for her birth, and how holding her that first time made it worth all the effort and aggravation.

I had papers to grade and there were dishes to be done downstairs. However, I took a few moments just to relish this time. I know it won’t always be this way, but I’ll always have this memory.

Why They Call It A Tragedy

Mon, 02 Nov 2009 18:07:46 GMT

It’s hard to believe 25 years has passed and harder still that seemingly nobody picked up on the grisly anniversary.

On Oct. 12, 1984, actor Jon-Erik Hexum was killed when he discharged a .44 magnum to his temple during a break from filming his show “Cover Up.” There’s still debate over whether Hexum accidentally pulled the trigger or did it on purpose as some kind of joke. Either way, the force of the discharge caused a quarter-sized fragment of bone into his brain.

The 27-year-old actor died several hours later after he was declared brain dead. The accident ended the career of a stunningly handsome star who many felt was bound for greatness.

I first noticed Hexum when he co-starred in a short-lived series called “Voyagers.” He was paired with an orphan boy and traveled through time setting time straight when it got off kilter.

While “Voyagers” didn’t last long, it garnered Hexum a lot of notice. His stock rose even more when he appeared in a TV movie called “Making of a Male Model” with Joan Collins.

In 1984, he landed the leading male role on “Cover Up.” He played a former Green Beret, “Mac Harper,” who is recruited to pose as a male model while his leading lady, played by “Jennifer O’Neill, takes on various undercover missions throughout the world.

After seven episodes, the show was turning into a modest hit. I had been a big O’Neill fan since “Summer of ’42,” so I was a regular watcher.

I was home on leave waiting to go to Germany when I got the news. Naturally, I was stunned.

Hexum was an amazing individual. After his death, I found out that he also played football for Michigan State. Apparently, he was a sophomore and watched the Spartans play football. He determined he was going to try out for the team the following year.

Making a Big 10 Team as a walk-on player is no easy task. Yet, he made the team and even played as a senior.

His rise in Hollywood was no less meteoric. He had already had a major role in a motion picture and “Cover Up” was going to propel him to stardom.

On the date of his death, it seems there were production lags and Hexum was very tired. He had complained to a friend earlier that he was on the set 16 hours six days a week.

After his death, Hexum was replaced by Australian actor Antony Hamilton. The show was OK, but was just never the same and it died a quick death at season’s end.

(Hamilton had reportedly been chosen to replace Roger Moore as James Bond, but was dropped after producers learned he was a homosexual. Hamilton died in 1994 at 42. His cause of death was complications from AIDS.)

Such a tragic death is so haunting. You wonder what would have become of Hexum. Would he have fulfilled his promise of stardom or would he be selling real estate in Beverly Hills? We will never know.

It’s just a shame he didn’t get the chance to try. I guess that’s why they call it a tragedy.

Actor Jon-Erik Hexum is shown here with co-star Jennifer O'Neill during a publicity shot for the 1984 series "Cover Up."

A Complicated Halloween

Sun, 01 Nov 2009 23:47:56 GMT

Halloween used to be so easy.

Normally, it took one trip to Wal-Mart when my oldest daughter was a little girl, and we had a costume. She donned it and everybody thought she was cute.

We would take her to our church's Halloween alternative, Fall Festival. She would come back with a bucket full of candy and a few prize trinkets and we had one happy girl.

No more.

Now, my 3-year-old and 6-year-old are still easy. As in days of old, I took them to Wal-Mart, turned them lose and they both came back sporting a costume.

My teenager didn't like the offerings in either Wal-Mart or K-Mart. We took her to the Halloween store and had no luck there either.

She is into Japanese imported cartoon about "Sailor Moon," and she wanted to be one of those characters. They were not to be found in our usual outlets.

We then turned to the Internet. After some searching, my daughter found the costume she wanted. With shipping and handling, it cost $70. It was roughly twice what both costumes for my little ones cost.

I relucantly agreed. It was custom-made costume and it was beautiful on her.

Mom didn't think it did a good job covering her ever emerging figure. However, after a couple of modifications, it was finally approved.

In the days leading up to Halloween, I felt badly about the big cost difference. I was at a party store looking for something else and found accessories to both of their costumes and picked them up.

I brought them to the house fully prepared to defend my purchase. Mom shocked me. She said it was good initiative on my part.

I was so glad I did. My son's best friend wore a similar costume and he had an accessory. I'm just relieved the Little Guy didn't have to feel like he was outclassed.

Last night, I helped set up and work one of the booths at church. Once I finished, I wanted to take a break, but was then told my teenager was leaving early to go to a Halloween Party of a classmate.

I sighed. She was always satisfied just to attend the church function before.

We finished up at the Fall Festival and I took the kids to McDonald's. The featured fare of pulled pork sandwiches didn't appeal to them.

As we headed home, my babies got entangled in a fight over French fries. I had to whip the SUV over and settle the fight.

I reviewed my Sunday School lesson for today and dozed off on the couch. It was time to go pick up my teenager.

I got there 10 minutes before the party was slated to break up. However, the kids were still going strong with a bonfire. The hostess offered me a bowl of chili and I enjoyed that while the party started to break up.

We noticed the full moon over the subdivision and thought it was appropriate for Halloween. It had been quite a day with a function at school, a birthday party for the one of the Little Guy's friends and a busy night.

I'm afraid future Halloweens aren't going to get any easier. It's not going to be much of a relaxing holiday in the coming years.

At least I still have Thanksgiving. All we need is a turkey and yams for that one, right?

Mascara Wars

Thu, 29 Oct 2009 21:36:12 GMT

So I’m barely over the trauma from my last Wal-Mart visit when my wife angrily confronts me.

“Why did you buy your daughter makeup while you were at Wal-Mart?”

“Huh?” says I. “She tossed a couple of things in the cart, but I figured they were girl things.”

“Well, you need to start paying attention to what she buys,” my wife thundered angrily.

You see, we are having a struggle in our home. We have a newly minted teenager on one side and a determined Mom on the other.

The issue: makeup. The teenager says she should get to wear it because the other girls do and Mom says she didn’t wear makeup until she went to college. It was good enough for her so it should be good enough for our oldest daughter.

Somehow, I’ve been appointed referee for this skirmish. I’m the man of the family, and the ultimate authority. It’s a convenient line for my wife to throw out at times like these when I would rather go cut the grass.

My position has been and remains that Mom is the fashion police. She makes the ultimate call on what I wear and what the kids wear. I do offer input and guidance, but I always defer to Mom in the end.

Since the kids were babies, I always let Mom take a look at them before I took them out. It takes only a few minutes and it saves me from a lot of grief if she thought I took them out in public looking tacky.

The “Mascara Wars” have been steadily escalating in recent weeks. My daughter has tried to drag me in on it and my wife has looked to me for support. Either way, I figure I’m going to have one of my favorite ladies upset with me.

I’ve told my daughter she’s too young for makeup. She’s beautiful just the way she is and doesn’t need any of that “war paint” as my Pop used to call makeup.

My compliments are of little comfort to her. After all, I’m her Dad and she thinks I’m supposed to say that kind of stuff.

Of course, what I really want to say is, “You’re still a baby to me. Don’t wear that stuff because it’s just another reminder that you’re growing up entirely too fast.”

I just hate being in the middle of such a heated argument between two hard-headed women. Both have valid arguments. However, I am really trying to impress on all my kids that you don’t do things simply because their peers are doing them. That kind of mindset can lead to tragic consequences.

It’s just hard to tell a teenager that there are worst things that being out of step with the rest of the crowd. I know how I felt growing up as a Baptist preacher’s kid in a largely Catholic community where you were looked on as an oddity at best or as a cult member at worst.

My wife has to learn to sympathize with the needs and the wants of a teenage girl. We have to give her wiggle room. We’ve raised a good kid and she’ll make the right decisions, but we have to let her spread her wings a bit no matter how painful for us it might be.

As I was pondering this dilemma, I saw my other special lady, my 3-year-old. She had pulled one of her Mom’s puffy things out of her purse and was applying some form of makeup to her face.

“Honey, what are you doing?” I asked her.

“Daddy, I’m just trying to make myself beautiful,” she said in a plain tone.

I snatched her up and gave her a hug. Whatever happens, we’re going to have a replay a few years down the road.

More Adventures at Wal-Mart

Sat, 24 Oct 2009 22:53:25 GMT

I'm not a big fan of going to Wal-Mart, period.

I always look for alternatives, and the fact that today is Saturday made me wish all the more I could go somewhere else. However, I had to pick up a prescription and we need to do some cooking since it's our day to bring refreshment for Sunday school tomorrow.

At first, nobody wanted to go with me. I was getting ready to leave when I asked my oldest daughter if she needed anything.

"Oh Dad," she said. "I'll just come with you."

As we started out the door, my two younger kids began begging to go. I tried to put them off by saying I would take them next time. My Little Guy then began screaming and crying and my Baby Girl soon joined in.

My wife told me that since our exit was so ungraceful that we were going to have to take them. My newly minted teenager and I waited out in the SUV and the younger ones came trotting out.

I knew it was a mistake even before I made it out of the subdivision. My trio was already fighting amongst themselves.

Our first watch was the battery store. My wife and MIL had several watches that needed new batteries.

My Baby Girl was soon telling she had "to go potty." We had only been gone from home for a few minutes, and I was not pleased. They are supposed to take care of those things before they leave the house.

We got the batteries into all the watches a lot quicker than I figured. The shopkeeper was kind enough to let everybody use the bathroom so we were off to Wal-Mart.

I told the children that I had a shopping list from their mother and that we were not here to buy toys. If they would behave themselves, I might get them a treat at the check-out lane, but that would be it.

I was thankful that I got my prescriptions with ease. It's not a given being that we were going on a Saturday afternoon.

There were a couple of other items on the list from the area surrounding the pharmacy. I called my wife and the cell and turned my back on my Baby Girl. Upon completing the call, I turned my head and she was gone.

I wasn't too upset at first because I figured she was with her brother and sister. Once I spotted both of them, and she was not with them, I got a bit irked.

We spread out and started the search. The most important thing was to remain calm. I felt a combination of anger and fear as I searched for my errant 3-year-old.

My efforts were complicated by the throng of people. Our Wal-Mart is always packed on Saturdays even UT is playing on TV as they were this day.

One of the store workers who was behind a counter saw me searching and suggested that I get them to lock down the store if I didn't find her soon. I searched the toy section and was going to look at the video games until I heard an announcement over the Intercom.

My Baby Girl's full name was being used. Her parents were being summoned to Customer Service.

Admittedly, I was a bit embarassed as I headed that way. However, I was more relieved than anything.

I found her in the company of two older women workers. One of them said she had found her wondering in the book section.

"She's very smart," one of the ladies told me. "She knew her parents' names and said we could call her Mother."

Of course, I snatched her up. I thanked the ladies and apologized for the inconvenience she no doubt caused.

I got my kids together and told them that I was very upset. They'd better tow the line during the rest of this shopping trip or it would months before they would see Wal-Mart again.

At that point, I figured the worst was behind me. I would finish the list and get the heck out of there.

I thought wrong.

After we were reunited, the Little Guy got his eye on a Littlest Pet Shop figure. He began to cry loudly as we trudged toward the grocery section.

My first instinct was to put the thing in the cart to humor them. Of course, that would obligate me to buy everybody something, and it would also show weakness. No, I had to say no this time.

It was a slow trek across Wal-Mart. I carried the Little Guy then I would put him down and his older sister would try to drag him.

I fought the temptation of looking like one of those white trash parents who beats their kid in Wal-Mart. It was Saturday and there was no place where somebody wasn't watching so I could not slip off somewhere and give him a well-earned spanking.

Finally, I plopped him in the seat while he was still screaming. I quietly growled at hime that he'd better stay there or he would be in deep trouble.

The Little Guy finally calmed down. Once he regained a civil tone, he wanted to try the polite approach to get his toy. It was not going to happen.

I did let them get a ring pop as I checked out. He stopped his pouting once he got the candy and we were quickly gone.

By this time, I was admittedly flustered. It took me a couple of minutes to find the SUV and get home.

I knew I had to tell my wife and was not looking forward to her reaction. However, I knew it was better for me to tell her and come clean than to have one of the kids tell her.

I did remind her that it was her idea. It was my only defense.

A Welcomed Death

Mon, 19 Oct 2009 21:29:05 GMT

The mouse is dead.

I was on the road at the end of last week and my wife called to tell me the news. It was such a relief to hear of his demise.

"Thank God!" was all I could say.

That one mouse, along with construction in our kitchen, had disrupted our life for more than a week. It seemed fitting that he was snagged the day before our builders finally completed putting our kitchen back together again.

I only wished I had been there to make the discovery. My wife found the deceased rodent still snared in the trap.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't want to take him out of the trap so I threw it away as well."

I assured her it was OK. I also reminded her that I wanted all of the food stuffs taken out of our van and placed back in the pantry.

The past few days had been difficult. My job sometimes requires me to travel out of town, and most times I regret it. However, I have to tell you that I was so glad to be dispatched to Fort Knox Thursday evening. (You know times are tough when you relish a trek to Radcliff, Ky.)

I found myself a halfway decent motel for the night and was so glad not to have to worry about the mouse darting about the living room or gnawing into something.

While my accommodations weren't the best, they were clean and comfortable. They were also located next door to a fine Mexican restaurant.

I don't get to eat much Mexican so I enjoyed this night out. (My children and my Mother in Law detest Mexican food for some reason.) I had a wonderful meal watching football while eating chicken fajitas with chips, rice, refried beans and salad.

Upon returning home, I checked the other traps. We've not had a sign of any other rodents about, but I am remaining extra vigilant. I've set more traps in possible entry ways to our home.

We were just so desperate towards the end. To illustrate our angst, my wife even allowed me to bring the cat in for a few hours one Sunday while we were at church. I didn't feed him so he would be extra hungry and left him a charge to "kill that darned mouse."

Upon returning from church, I insisted on going in first. I didn't want the kids to walk in on a mangled mouse or some other form of carnage.

I sighed as I walked into the living and saw our mighty hunter reclining on the couch. I pushed him off and, upon seeing no signs of a struggle or a massacre, dispatched kitty out the door.

I will say this for Reno. The next morning after the mouse was caught, I found the head of a decapitated mouse on the back porch.

The body was nowhere to be found. I gave Reno some extra cat food and implored him to kill any other mice who even think about invading our home.

"It's job security," I told him.

A Good Start

Sat, 17 Oct 2009 14:06:12 GMT

You heard it here first.

Perhaps next year when we wake up to a Republican majority in the U.S. House, significant gains in the U.S. Senate and many more Republican governors and state representatives, you can follow the trail back to Tennessee. This week's GOP victory in a special election in State House District 62 has both state and national implications.

Republican Pat Marsh scored an impressive victory in what was once considered a solid Democratic area. He garnered 56 percent of the vote to his Democratic counterpart Ty Cobb who finished with 41 percent of the vote. Cobb was the younger brother of former state Rep. Curt Cobb who resigned his seat to take a county position.

The win gives the GOP a 50-48 advantage in the state house. There is one independent, House Speaker Kent Williams, a former Republican who was kicked out of the party earlier this year when he lied and joined with the 49 Democrats to gain the speakership over the Republican candidate he had promised in writing to support.

Marsh's victory gained the notice of the national party. Republican Chairman Michael Steele issued a statement on election night.

"Pat's election is another example of the continuing popularity of conservative principles, not only in Tennessee, but nationwide," Steele said. "As we approach elections this fall and in 2010, I am confident we will see many more Americans choosing Republicans to represent their best interests."

The GOP looks to expand its majorities in both the state house and senate in 2010. If they can do this, and take the governor's race, they will control the redistricting process for the first time since Reconstruction.

With this power, Republicans can not only draw districts to enhance their legislative majorities on the state level, but can re-draw the congressional districts as well. This should end the careers of two so-called "Blue Dog Democrats" in Congress, Bart Gordon and Lincoln Davis. The voters may beat them to it, though, as both are reeling from their votes for President Obama's stimulus package and their attempts to duck angry townhall meeting crowds.

Obama figured in this race. Talk radio was all over voters of this district to send Obama a message. TV advertising tied one of the organizations raising funds to the infamous, ACORN and Obama himself. The tactic obviously worked.

It was a blow to Tennessee's Democrats. Cobb basically ran as a conservative as the Dems fell to the tactic of trying to pass off one of their candidates as an upright Christian.

They got help from an unexpected source. Tennessee Right to Life surprisingly endorsed the Democrat citing his answers on a questionaire they had given both candidates.

I'm pro-life to the max, but I was furious to see these folks get in bed with our enemies. I wrote their president and he wanted to tout the virtue of having pro-life legislators on both sides of the aisle.

Tennessee has had a pro-life majority in the state house for several years. However, the Democratic leadership was pro-choice and they were able to kill most pro-life legislation in committee. Even with a slim majority this year, more pro-life legislation was passed than we had in recent years.

Of course, the Democrats took it too far. They sent out a mailer accusing Marsh of favoring human cloning. It was ridiculous and showed most voters the extent of the Dems' desperation.

I'm still pissed off TRL. I'm not going to support them during the next election cycle, but will continue my own quest to protect the lives of the unborn even when the people who are supposed to spearhead that effort turn stupid.

Next comes gubernatorial elections in Virginia and New Jersey. Our candidates are both ahead even though the race in New Jersey is tightening up. However, when the Democratic incumbent tries to make an issue of the GOP candidate's weight, you can see the desperation there too.

Maybe our nation is finally moving back in the right direction. I hope so because I just don't see how God's wrath can tarry much longer if we don't.

The Specter of the Mouse

Thu, 15 Oct 2009 01:42:58 GMT

It’s not been a fun time at my house in recent days.

I had really enjoyed the first three days of my four-day Columbus Day holiday weekend. On Columbus Day, I woke up and went downstairs to lounge around. The doorbell rang, and there was a contractor at the door.

Our garage had been leaking throughout the summer and our builder had tried a number of ways to fix it. They finally had to tear into the foundation.

The leaking stopped, but our kitchen floor started buckling. They came through a tore about half of the tile out of the kitchen.

While this was a bit of an inconvenience, we managed. The stove and refrigerator were still in place so we could carry on with our usual food preparation and meals.

It was about that time, we first started noticing our mouse. It was no coincidence I’m sure especially considering the fall weather intruding upon us.

We’ve waited several weeks for the tile to be replaced. Of course, when you live in Clarksville, you have to wait for everything to come from Nashville. New tile was among those items.

All this time, we’ve dealt with the specter of the mouse. Towels are jammed in each of our doorways, food is meticulously covered and my whole home life is seemingly out of whack.

I check the traps first thing every morning and the last thing at night. Each time, I pray that rodent will be snared onto the trap, stuck in the syrupy goop of the strips or poisoned by the little baggies we have scattered throughout the downstairs.

My wife is losing her mind. She stepped into the pantry a couple of nights ago and the mouse was waiting there for her.

She screamed loudly. I ran down the stairs and she was still cringing from the sight of the mouse.

I had gone grocery shopping earlier that day and she wanted to clear out the entire pantry. I did clear off the floor so we could find him and perhaps flush him out.

The mouse was nowhere in sight. He seemingly had no way out so I figured he must have slipped by us.

I had a difficult period teaching that night. It was one of those classes where I didn’t feel like I had gotten through to the students and I was frustrated.

The last thing I wanted to do was indulge in what is proving to be an ongoing nightmare. I wanted to just kick back, watch a little Monday Night Football and dose off.

It was not to be.

We moved most of the contents of the pantry out, checked them and put most of them back in. The items that didn’t go out to the car were placed in high shelves out of the mouse’s reach.

I put some Dr. Peppers on the floor. I had to assure my wife the mouse, despite his seemingly super powers of evasion, would not be able to gnaw through the cans.

After we were done, I dashed up the stairs to enjoy what was left of the night. It was not a good night to be home at all. My kitchen was in shambles, dust coated the entire downstairs and we were all jammed into the bonus room. It was our sanctuary from the construction debris and the mouse.

I went to bed hoping the mouse was killed by the debris or had run off to avoid the dust. I also hoped those contractors got on it and got our kitchen and our lives back in order.

It was almost a relief to find out I would have a business trip to end the week. Heck, I would be glad to live in a tent. It would be a nice break.

Glad To Have Him Back

Mon, 12 Oct 2009 13:07:43 GMT

It’s hard to believe a year has passed.

I made the discovery on Xanga. A link put me through to the Washington Blade article that told a shocking truth.
Ray Boltz is a homosexual.

If you don’t know who Ray Boltz is, let’s just say he was one of the “stars” of gospel music in the 90s. He is best known for songs like “I Pledge Allegiance To The Lamb,” “The Anchors Holds” and the classic, “Thank You.”

During a 15-year career, he sold more than 4.5 million albums and had several successful nationwide tours. He was a much beloved figure who was active in charitable and missions work too.

Boltz, by his own admission, retired quietly from the gospel music industry in late 2004. He then came out to his family, left his home in Indiana to move to Florida where he apparently began indulging in the gay lifestyle.

It was just a year ago that Boltz was scheduled to play in a couple of gay churches. He then chose to drop his bombshell in the Blade article.

I’ll never forget walking down the hall to tell my wife. There were tears in her eyes, and we both felt so badly for Ray’s family.

Our friends in church were equally shocked. It was just hard to believe that somebody who was seemingly so close to God and had been giving such a wonderful gift was throwing it all away.

A few weeks later, Boltz released a single called “Don’t Tell Me Who To Love.” An album of similar-themed “gay Christian” songs was supposed to follow, but it has never seen the light of day.

“It will never be released,” one friend in the “industry” told me. “There’s no market for something like that: Christians won’t buy it because it’s too gay and the gays aren’t going to buy because it’s too Christian.”

We talked about the announcement I heard the day after I heard Boltz’s big news from a small-town Christian radio station manager. He said listeners would no longer hear Boltz’s music on his station and please not to even ask for it. His tone was sharp and caustic, but he did close out asking people pray for the wayward singer.

My friend said he hasn’t heard Boltz’s music on any Christian stations since the bombshell announcement. He said Boltz is “just downright foolish” to take the course he pursued.

“Say what you want about the spiritual consequences,” he said. “This is just a crazy business decision.

“Ray could have stayed in Florida, kept his mouth shut and done whatever he wanted. He is robbing himself and his family of a lifetime of royalties that would have come his way. His songs will never make the hymnbooks now, and he’s lost thousands and thousands of dollars, for what?”

Perhaps even more distressing are the actions of Boltz’s ex-wife Carol. Their 30-year marriage was ended over his new lifestyle. You'd think she would be angry at her former husband for abandoning her.

She now blogs on behalf of gay rights. She also takes aim at any sort of Exodus Movement that seeks to get homosexuals out of the gay lifestyle. (http://myheartgoesout-carol.blogspot.com/)

Her blogs are downright goofy at times. She speaks angrily of the men and women who bought Boltz’s records, went to his concerts and allowed both of them to live a comfortable lifestyle.

I feel sorry for her. I know this has been a difficult thing for her to live through, and you have to wonder why Christians have not done more to reach out to her. Perhaps it’s a self-defense mechanism. I don’t know.

The Christian music industry has been hit by a series of scandals over the years. Who can forget Amy Grant or Sandy Patty’s misdeeds? I’ll never forget hearing about the lead singer of a Christian rock band going to jail for child molesting.

One of the earliest involved Reba Rambo and her producer Dony McGuire divorcing their spouses, marrying each other and having the ex spouses consequently marry each other back in the early 80s.

It sucks because these actions hurt the Christian artists who do live clean lives and are doing their best to serve God. These incidents are used by everybody who believes Christians shouldn’t sing anything less than a century old.

As for me, I still listen to Boltz’s music. It still inspires me.

It makes me mostly want to pray for this man that he will come back to the fold. A lot of people would not welcome him, but a lot of us would be glad to have him back.

A Lot Of Trouble

Sat, 10 Oct 2009 16:35:59 GMT

I always know something is up when my wife meets me at the door.

This particular time, she demanded why I didn’t answer her calls. She said she had tried to reach me several times, but I didn’t answer.

I normally turn off my cell prior to class. However, I’m usually equally good at making a quick call home on my way.

This night, I was too preoccupied. I never gave it a thought.

Seemingly, I had walked in on an emergency. My wife informed me she had spotted a mouse in the living room.

I checked around for the little varmint, but I saw no sign of him. I then moved one of the chairs and off he darted.

My wife, in a single, sweeping motion, grabbed our Baby Girl and leaped to the top of the couch. I had to laugh so I was unable to give chase to the mouse.

I wasn’t laughing for long. My wife demanded that I go out and get some mouse trips now.

All I could do was sigh and remind her that I had just worked a 14-hour day. I was beat and was not going to make the 20-30 minute trip this would entail.

The rest of the evening, there were elaborate preparations made. All of the food was taken off the counters and towels were laid at the bottom of each bedroom door upstairs.

“How the heck is a little mouse going to climb stairs?” I asked.

I went to bed with an angry still pacing our house trying to mouse-proof it. However, I hate going to bed knowing she is not pleased with me.

Thus, I got early and went to get a couple of mousetraps. I laid them, got ready for work and dashed off to make a living.

It was not to be.

When I came home that night, neither of the traps was sprung. My wife clamored for more, but I told her to be patient.

“You won’t always get them the next day,” I told her.

I then suggested we bring the cat inside for a while. If you’ve read my blog for a while, you know Reno, the Cat, was banished to the outdoors after we moved last year. I’m not a big cat fan, but they are pretty good at ridding your home of rodants.

This idea was vetoed. My wife was afraid of causing my mother in law’s allergies of flaring. Plus, Reno is hard on mice and often tears them shreds leaving their corpses strewn across our back porch.

Another day passed. I was then dispatched to get a new kind of mousetrap. It uses a thick, syrupy paste to trap and kill the mice.

I put four of those things in place. My wife was sure the new high-tech, more-humanitarian traps would solve our problems.

No such luck.

I’ve tried redeploying the traps, and that didn’t work either.

People have suggested a sonic mousetrap that drives the mice away with ear-splitting sounds at their level.

One friend gave me a design of an elaborate trap that catches them only. Like I’m going to catch the furry black mouse, drop him off in my backyard and wish him a good life? Hardly.

I’m not cruel, but the penalty for being a mouse in my house is death. That is non-negotiable.

We are still taking most of the ridiculous precautions as the mouse continues to elude us. It seems to be a lot of trouble for one little mouse, but my wife is determined.

I found a similar-looking mouse just a few days ago. I theorized maybe Reno got him while he went outside for a breath of fresh air.

She’s not buying it. It looks I’m going off to Lowe’s for some more traps.