I'm not much for sports.  I like playing them and enjoy watching them is someone I know is playing, but I'm not much for watching professional teams.  I don't dislike watching them, I just prefer to spend my limited time doing other things.  Yet when I head the news that Jackson might be building a stadium for a minor league time, my interest was piqued.

There is something that I like about baseball.  The deliberateness, the pacing, the way every pitch can have so many variable outcomes despite the relatively small strike zone, the fans, the sounds, even the food all give me a feeling unique to this type of event.  Unfortunately, the major leagues have become an exorbitant luxury.  Even with free tickets, the costs of the food alone make the game less enjoyable.  Add this the fact that the only seats that I can afford are so high above the action that I would be better off watching the game on television, if I cared enough about the teams to watch it ... which I don't. 

But a home team ... that's a different story.  My family once got tickets to the box seats for a minor league game and immensely enjoyed the experience (I was not able to attend).  With a team in Jackson (which I hope would be called the Jailbirds), I would be sorely tempted to get season tickets.  To give me an excuse to get out, let life slow down, and enjoy time watching a game with my family.

Who knows if or when this idea might come to fruition, but I like the idea.  And if I, a person who is "not much for sports," am excited about the idea, I can only guess how many other people would be interested.

I have always like the smell of coffee, but until last year, I hadn't been able to stand the taste.  My first experience, that I remember, was my mother bringing my sister and I to a friend's house and having a "coffee party."  Then, as until recently, the coffee tasted like little more than warm water (which is not something that I like to drink).  Adding cream just made it taste like watered down water.  Adding sugar didn't give it the substance I wanted.

At Alex's graduation, Janelle decided to use a concoction called coffee bunch which is made out of a coffee syrup, whole milk, and even amounts of chocolate and vanilla ice cream.  Normally, I don't even like coffee ice cream, but I really liked this drink and have since made an effort to make it at least once a year.  I also have come to like some cakes and desserts that use coffee.

It was taking Alex up to college last summer that got me hooked.  Despite knowing that I had a ten-hour drive in front of me, I had stayed up entirely too late the night before.  Long drives can be difficult for me alone, but they are worse when the person riding shotgun is lightly snoring.  Unfortunately, that was the condition we were in on the drive up: I was feeling exhausted while Janelle and Alex were dozing.

When we stopped at a McDonald's, I decided to try a mocha.  Now, I know that doesn't count as coffee for you purists, but it got me hooked about the same as the chocolate punch.  My carpool ride last year was often started with a stop to pick up a couple of mochas to wake us up.  I had thought that caffeine didn't have much of an effect on me as I can fall asleep even less than half an hour after having a caffeinated soda, but I discovered that just a sip of the mocha kept my eyes from drooping while taking those long morning drives.

The sad news is that both I and my carpool compatriot are on austerity measures right now.  Stops to McDonald's (even just once a week) are now a luxury that we literally cannot afford.  Still, I'm usually able to convince my loving wife to set up the coffee maker (a machine that I have not taken the time to understand) on Fridays, and I've stirred up some lost cost mochas for us at least once each week.  It's funny how something I didn't care for just over a year ago is now something that I don't want to live without.

We went to the Renaissance Festival in Holly, Michigan, as is our annual tradition (aside from my years in Alaska, I have gone every year since 1990).  We went with Janelle's brother (who is only in town until next week) and sister (and her family).  Despite a dire weather forecast, no storms (let alone major ones) marred our visit.  Here's the quick run-down:

A Zucchini Brother is back.  While still one of my favorite shows, his final act just seems desperate.

Ded Bob is still funny.  It's been a few years since I've watched the show, but although his voice seems slightly different and his "dummy" is considerably smaller than before, the old act still holds a massive audience.

One Step Further, the show that proceeded Ded Bob, was pretty entertaining, especially the "wall of jorgoling."  Some of their pop references went over my head; I feel old.

Prices are getting even higher: $2 pickles, $7 turkey legs, $6 bag of kettle corn (which I did not purchase) and $3 for a 1/4 pound of fudge (which I also didn't get).

Trevor bought a wooden sword to replace the one we bought him last year that he then broke by trying to smash ice with it.  I bought the other two boys wooden swords.  This was Rowen's first, and the one Connor wanted just looked cool to me.

We brought canteen backpacks that only hold about two water bottles worth of water but were well worth bringing due to their convenience.

My want list from the festival: a cool (in more than one way) hat, a leather (brown?) pirate overcoat, sturdy pirate-ish boots, comfortable pirate pants (are you sensing a theme?), and a new shirt (although the one Jenni made still works pretty well).  I like my current garb, and I really cant justify getting another outfit that I only wear one day out of the year, but I have been wearing it for about 15 years.  Still, see the note about higher prices ...

I follow a pendulum swing when it comes to my health.  Thankfully, I have been overall blessed with good health.  Most of my health issues come down to elements that are within my control, especially in the realms of diet and exercise.  Unfortunately, that often makes me complacent about my overall well-being.  It takes some sort of outside intervention to push me into trying adopt a healthy lifestyle, and even then my motivation is often short-lived.

Case in point: I was not allowed to give blood yesterday.  This has been the second time in a row that I have been at a blood drive and turned away due to my blood pressure being too high.  When I looked up the numbers online after having been turned away, I discovered that the bottom number was extremely close to an "emergency" situation ... which is probably why the nurse looked so uncomfortable.

I felt terrible.  I was sitting there with the sticker saying "I made a difference" on my shirt knowing that I had to walk out despite all of the information about how much they currently need blood donations, especially O- (my blood type).  Granted, it was the end of the first week of school and I did eat sausages for lunch.  Also, I was worried (as I will be the next time) that I would be turned away again, thus creating a self-fulfilling prophecy.  

I also had to walk by Mr. Ferry, my ninth grade biology teacher and one of the leaders of my junior year hiking group.  I made a bit of a joke to him as I left, but my spirits were definitely at a low point.  I like my life-style.  Sure, I could eat better and exercise more regularly, but I don't want to give up the foods and drinks that I love.  And unless someone decides to pay me more, the stress in my life isn't going to change anytime soon.

For a little while, the pendulum had me thinking about going cold-turkey on many of the foods and drinks that I like.  I tend to be extreme about things like this.  Thankfully, my better angels talked me down and reminded me that the key is moderation, not deprivation.

My sons are bouncing on the beds rather than sleeping in them.  For the most part, we did the same things today, yet they are full of energy and I just want to go to bed.  It's a bit worse today because we ate dinner rather late.  While eating seems to put me into a food-coma these days, my sons manage to find whatever bit of sugar that might be in the meal to exponentially increase their energy.

They have now created some sort of game that requires jumping from the bed (thankfully not the upper bunk) to the floor, climbing back up, and jumping again.  Oh, and laser noises are required too.

The thing is that I remember coming up with those games and having the energy to play them.  I created cosmic battles and fantastical quests; invisible armies and monstrous challenges awaited me.  A part of me is tempted to join them even though the rational portion of my brain knows that I would easily break the bed.  

They are climbing into bed after being properly chastised (especially after one of them made a rather loud thump upon hitting the ground).  They are protesting, but I know the protests are half-hearted.  Another irony of life is that they will be asleep in moments while I will be stuck with my thoughts for a while still.  

Today we celebrate the independence of our nation from its colonial master.  We celebrate the separation of our government from the hereditary line of royalty and began the process that put our fate into the hands of elected officials.  This is a day to remember our history and to look to our future.

Oh, and we get to play with various pyrotechnics.

Our Independence festivities are covering a three-day period this year.  Last night we watched the Jackson fireworks with several friends and with various snacks bought from the Polly's store whose parking lot we were using.  Today we played a D&D campaign with a large group of friends and I grilled the traditional hamburgers and  hot dogs for lunch.  Tomorrow nearly all of my family will gather together, I will grill again, and we will watch more fireworks, this time while in a boat on a lake.

As all of us are celebrating, I hope that we take the time to reflect on our country's heritage, present, and possibilities.  We are part of an amazing nation with great potential.  May our nation be a beacon of hope and liberty for the world through the ages.

And may the fireworks be impressive ... and not dangerous.

Thanks be to God!  When we returned from my sister's lake cottage today, we found lights on in our neighborhood.  On our last check, Consumer's Energy's website stated that our area's estimated restoration was 4pm on Thursday (a day and a half away).  I had tried to be optimistic, but my sister's experience in such matters had me thinking the worst.  Although I expected to find our house dark and to once again sleep without a fan, I prayed that we would have power on our return, however unworthy I might be of such favors.  Not only did we have power, but it had come back a mere twenty minutes before we returned home!

The storms last night terrified me as no others had done before.  Generally, I enjoy these demonstrations of nature's fury and awesome might, but when the storm woke me at about 2AM, I was filled with a strange fear.  It was when I went for my iPad to check on the radar (and blinded myself in the process) that the storm kicked up to a new level and I immediately set out to take my family to the basement.  A sick feeling washed over me as I realized that my earlier delay may have cost my family their lives had this been an actual tornado.  Again, it was only through God's grace that this storm which caused so much destruction was not more damaging.

I need to learn to be more thankful for what I have been given.  No real damage befell our house (nor the homes of our neighbors).  While we did not have power, my parents and my sister did, so we had places to go to both stay connected to the rest of the world as well have as have access to modern conveniences such as running water and electricity.  The local store had just received a fresh shipment of dry ice this morning (they are normally out right away during such outages).  Although expensive, the dry ice made it so all of our refrigerated and frozen food stayed in good condition.

And, of course, our power was back on tonight.  Sometimes it takes trials and tribulations (both large and small) to remind us of the true blessings that we have in our lives.

First of all, my wife is wonderful.  I asked her if she could create a thank you card that I could give to the drive-thru lady at the McDonald's that my carpool buddy and I frequent on our way to work.  I just finished writing the note.  I plan on asking her name when we pull up to pay and adding her name into the card--which also thanks the McDonald's staff in general.

This school year, I acquired a liking for mochas and other lattes.  I still don't like coffee itself, but with enough cream and sweetener ...

Anyway, I often find myself getting five or fewer hours of sleep (like tonight) and I discovered that coffee (or at least mochas) has a greater effect on me than I thought it would.  This has led us to stop by a McDonald's establishment on our way to work, although we do so probably more often than is healthy.  My carpool compatriot has noted that the drive-thru lady, who has a grandmotherly charm, is more pleasant when I am in the car than when he stops there without me.  Whether that's true or not, she is a ray of sunshine in the morning that helps start our long commute with a pleasant attitude.  

I realized that tomorrow would be our (or at least my) last day stopping by until the beginning of next school year, and the idea of giving her a thank you card popped into my head.  I hope that it will brighten her day as she has brightened ours.

Today is set aside for us to remember those who gave up their lives in the defense of this country and its principles.  There is nothing that can be said, nothing that we can really do to make up for their sacrifice.  All we can do is acknowledge it and be thankful for all that they did.

Perhaps our barbecues, family gatherings, and other festivities that demonstrate the freedoms that they secured for us truly are the best ways to commemorate their lives. 

I have switched back to whole milk and I am loving it!

It's been over a month and I have not gained weight from the switch (and that's with some hefty Easter eating in the mix).  Now my own anecdotal tale is probably not enough to convince anyone, but my switch came after reading a couple of articles (whose links I do not have, but I remember that one was in USA Today) about the benefits of whole milk over any other milk where the fat has been removed.  Basically, there have been numerous long-term studies that are showing that people who are using skim, 1%, or 2% instead of whole milk are actually showing more long-term weight gain and health problems.  They suggest that the problem might be that not only is the fat in whole milk the healthy kind of fat, but when it's removed, other sorts of sugars and carbs have to make up the weight.

Please don't take my word for it.  My memory has not been the most reliable, and studies seem to be able to say whatever the person conducting them wants them to say.  Still, I am certainly enjoying my mochas and cereal a lot more lately.

So creamy ...

Yesterday, Jesus was betrayed at the garden after having instituted the means for His legacy to live on.  Today, Jesus was killed by means of crucifixion.  His death darkened the skies and shook the Earth, tearing the veil that separated the section of the temple that contained the Holiest of Holies from where the laity gathered. His body will be placed into a tomb and, due to the Sabbath, no one will find His tomb empty until Sunday morning, Easter.  This is the Triduum, the three day celebration of Jesus's death and resurrection.

As Catholics, we commemorate Jesus's crucifixion and death through fasting and a service at 1pm, the approximate time of Jesus's death.  The fasting is only for healthy adults and still allows one full mean and two smaller meals.  There are, however, no snacks or desserts, and the Lenten tradition of not eating meat (other than seafood or eggs) on Fridays holds true for those meals.  When I was younger, I felt that these allowances made the day of fasting a bit too lax, but I have since realized that there is nothing stopping anyone from making stronger concessions.  Meanwhile, these concessions are still enough to serve as a reminder of Christ's sacrifice for us.

Even this minor type of fasting makes things taste better.  We celebrate tomorrow and Sunday with some traditional foods that I look forward to every year, and I must admit that the fasting magnifies their already wonderful flavors.  Hunger truly is the best sauce (Benjamin Franklin says "pickle," but it means the same thing).  

This also helps put in mind the fact that many people in our world, our country, our state, even our county do not eat as well as we do.  This temporary hunger which we "suffer" through on this day is nothing when compared to the daily hunger that so many people around our world face.  I am not saying this as a means of causing guilt (although we should take more responsibility in this matter), but to remind us of the good things that we have.  So often we focus on the negative, what's been taken from us or what is short of our expectations.  We need to give equal time (if not a greater portion) to focusing on the blessings given to us.

We need to make ourselves worthy of Christ's sacrifice for us.

I never drank a drop of alcohol, smoked a cigarette, chewed tobacco, or tried a drug that was not prescribed by a doctor. While my reasons for such abstinence are many, and several of these reasons are stories of their own, one reason I have stayed away from things which have such addictive properties is that I know that I am susceptible to addiction. I have three major addictions: sex, food (especially doughnuts and chocolate), and video games. I'll spare everyone's sensitivities and avoid discussion of the first one.

I don't know what my problem is with food. I know that I eat when depressed or when under stress (I gain about ten pounds each time I get the lay off slip). However, this is more than that. When I see food, especially a desserts or food I enjoy, I automatically assume that it belongs to me. For example, a teacher in my hall has brought doughnuts for his students on several occasions. As of late, I have not been offered one, and I find myself having to fight a resentment towards him in those cases. I don't need a doughnut, and I don't bring doughnuts to share with him from time to time, but still, I have to stop myself from inviting myself into his room and taking one. This holds true for other teachers' pizza parties, class breakfasts, and Spanish class fiestas. At home, I have to consciously stop myself from getting into my children's bags of candy, cookies, or chips. I'm a grown man and can buy my own junk food if I so desired. Yet in the above circumstances, I find myself fixated on the food, thinking about it several hours. Why do I covet other people's food so?

My food addiction doesn't hold a candle to my addiction to video games. When I start playing a video game, I zone out to such a degree that a little runt of a dog was able to piddle on my leg (I was sitting on the floor) and I didn't notice until it soaked through my jeans. I can go for hours without stopping for bathroom breaks or meals. During those trances, I feel no hunger (nor bursting of bladder) unless the game is paused or going through a long loading screen. When I'm not playing, a good deal of my mental capacity is spent thinking about the game, planning my next session or figuring out how to squeeze out that little bit of time so I can find that one more thing. 

 This was the reason I originally stayed away from Skyrim. When Janelle borrowed it from friends, it only took a couple of times of watching her running into walls (she's not that practiced with 1st person controls) for me to want to take the controller. And the moment I did, I was hooked. This is why I absolutely refuse to play World of Warcraft or other unending MMORPG's. I believe that my father might be correct in his statement that video games kept me from greatness. I wonder at the achievements I could have reached had I not spent my time accomplishing nothing yet feeling the false satisfaction of completing a great many virtual things.

Still, knowing that I'm addicted has not stopped my obsessions. I still covet the next doughnut and want to play the next video game. I have tried stopping myself on a few occasions and have found myself irrationally irritable and more depressed than before. I berate myself for not being strong enough when I succumb, as I eventually do. But then I wonder if I'm being too hard on myself as well. These are things I enjoy. While I should learn to control myself better, why deprive myself of those pleasures in life that I do take?

Or am I simply justifying my addiction again?