Tree Watching

Tunnel Vision: To focus one's attention on one specific item or event to the exclusion of everything else; a one-track mind.

Often akin to a missing-the-forest-for-the-trees type of narrow mindedness, tunnel vision--the psychological not physiological malady--just ain't cool. A narrow perspective or a simple focus is the enemy of your best life now and if you want to be happy, you've got to become a big picture guy, stand above the situation, be objective, not get caught up in the little details and focus on the whole in lieu of any one of its parts. This is the conventional wisdom they are peddling on the motivational speaker circuit and it, my friends, is the secret to success, happiness and love. It is also hogwash. The advice, while not totally without merit, is incomplete at best. Sure, too much focus on too many different trees can be overwhelming but the sheer size of the forest can be as intimidating if not more so. One look at Tiger Woods (a man who literally embodies tunnel vision) and his 14 major titles, debunks the myth that tunnel vision is limiting and a quick glance at all the men who have crumbled in his wake compels me to not spend too much time worrying about the size of any given forest. In search of balance, I'm going to defer to The Byrds' who remind me (and they're right) that to everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven...turn, turn, turn.

For me, right now, in this season, I'm gonna be a tree watcher...turn, turn, turn.

The transformation from forest watcher to tree watcher, like the progression from playing in traffic to playing in the emergency room, was a natural one which required a few close calls before the need for transformation made itself apparent. You see, I kept wandering along bumping into tree after tree and I assumed--we all know what they say about assumptions--each tree to be a different, if not inconvenient, obstacle. In truth, I had been assaulting the same persistent tree over and over again and my forest-level oblivity had left me completely unawares. The way forward, while at first obstructed by the canopy life often creates, grew less avoidable as my tree came into focus. The tree I'm watching, the tree in my way: pride.

Consider the coincidences: On Tuesday (5/19) a book came in the mail, Friday I justified myself by incorrectly referencing 2 Cor 12:5-10, Saturday and Sunday devotionals commented on this scripture, Sunday the sermon addressed what 2 Cor 12:5-10 is actually about and our small group discussed John 6, Thursday morning brought a study from Acts 26, Thursday evening brought a study from Daniel 4, and then I got it (Also, at different points along this timeline, I did my best impression of Prov 16:18 --which didn't need as much empirical evidence as I provided). I'm a quick study, I know, but please save the compliments for the end.

Pseudo-piety aside, I am telling you this not because I, like the chap who goes to the gym because he has not yet found a venue with larger mirrors, adore my own reflection (though I do) but because I more closely resemble the slovenly pear-shaped gentlemen in the back who is punishing himself and the StairMaster in hope of correcting the imperfections which only surface after a long, hard look into those floor-to-ceiling mirrors. This is not a self-congratulatory toaster about the author; it is a toaster about the author, creator, Lord of all who will use a story about bread, a tribunal, or a dream to teach me a lesson about pride. His creativity is as limitless as His patience.

This is the part of the story where I drop some knowledge on you; where I lay down some pithy pearls of wisdom with an above average truth-to-syllable ratio so you can justify reading this far, right? If it is instruction you seek, go here for I am still prideful and have little to add.

What I have learned is pride is love's converse. Also, love, despite what your local hippie might say, must have an independent, external object which leads us to the fairly palatable conclusion that pride's object is internal--the Other vs. the Self. Jesus supports this conclusion by assigning two appropriate outlets for love--God and neighbors--which are external and "like" each other while contrasting pride by suggesting that we love externally as we already love internally. We don't need much (read: any) admonition to love ourselves because we kinda have that one figured out. Are we getting warmer? It seems like the internal focus of pride isn't as large a problem as the singular internal focus of pride. What I see Jesus saying is "you're loving yourself and that's not necessarily wrong, but it's not right either. To do it right, you've got to love God first and that will free you up to love others as you are currently loving yourself--unconditionally." When we mix up the order, our love gets small. When the story is about us; when we are the ones of first importance, there is no room for God or instruction, we quarrel and mock, we discriminate, we stumble and finally, our story is writ small and singular. I know this intimately. Pride is my default setting. It is going to take nothing less and a divine recalibration to correct this defect.

That's bad news, right? Where's the hope? Relying on divine intervention is the ultimate cop out, isn't it? Well, no and you'll have to bare with me a bit because the following sounds like gobbledygook but it is a resource of the faith and it is real. Modernity has tried to do away with sin--the concept, not actual sinning--but I haven't been able to follow suit. I believe in sin not because the Bible tells me so, but because my actions have symptoms and those actions and their symptoms are diagnosed throughout the pages of the Bible--a WebMD for the soul. Biblical heroes great and small, their stories are my story and only a fool ignores the counsel of his predecessors. Cue the Romans Road, cue Jesus. Jesus--born of a virgin, miracle worker, son of God, God incarnate--changes the game, literally. He lived the life I should have lived and he was crucified for it. On the cross, he bore, for three hours in the darkness of his father's absent gaze, the punishment my sins--our sins--deserve and then he died. Abandoned by his friend, humiliated by his accusers, ignored by his father, he was buried in a borrowed tomb and hope with him. But. But his story doesn't end there. It is because his story continues, because the rock was rolled away, because he was not there, because he kept this promise that my story can change. Though we have not earned it and do not deserved it, the debt is paid for all who would say to Jesus, "my Lord and my God." This. Is. Good. News. God uses the trees to remind us of this good news, if only we'll pay attention.

-Jake

Thanks?

You remind me of my mom.  You look great in sweat pants.  You're taller than I remember.  Good choice on ordering the salad.  I like your mittens; they make you look like a hobo.  You're really good at ironing.  I was feeling nauseous last night and it made me think of you.

Why am I still single?

I'm starting to realize most people have a hard time handling compliments.  Apparently the problems begin with the word itself because there is a great deal of confusion over the difference between peanut butter complementing jelly and peanut butter complimenting jelly...the former is obvious the latter is disconcerting.  I know, it is only one letter, a vowel no less, but that vowel has consequences.  Remember guys, you compliment a girl when you like her dress but you complement a girl when you dress like her so next time she asks for a compliment, don't go out and buy a matching turtle-necks.  Trust me (unrelated side note: I'm selling a his-n-hers Yukata set).

Knowing, however, is only half the battle.  Eventually you will actually have to compliment and then apologize and explain yourself.  I'm sure there are a multitude of ways to attack the problem but I have chosen the trial-and-error method which, I've found, leads to a high turnover rate and endless opportunities to practice.  So far, I've learned that chicks don't like being called chicks and what you compliment, how you compliment, when you compliment and where you compliment all matter immensely.  

The 'what' of the equation seems like the most obvious step but, as a man, I can assure you that what I obviously like about you and what you obviously want complimented are not the same thing...unless you like sisqo.  Gentlemen, write this down: It doesn't matter why you like her.  You have to compliment the reasons she likes her.  If she fights nausea like gladiator in a gastrointestinal coliseum and you think her resolve is cute, you cannot under any circumstances tell her.  Take. it. to. your. grave.  'How' should be simple.  Not simple as in easy but simple as in minded.  You are not Shakespeare and she does not need to be reminded of that fact.  Lest you begin with "I like your mittens" and close with "they make you look like a hobo," this is not the time to earn the favor of your 8th grade Language Arts teacher.  If your compliment doesn't fit on one line of a haiku, you cannot use it...syllables, adjectives and metaphors are your enemy.  Moving to the 'when' and 'where,' I suggest you have a deck of reliable compliments to pull from in anticipation of stumbling up the intersection of the two as they are conspicuously linked.  You can tell her she looks nice outside of her car window, not her bathroom window.  The same compliment is appropriate before dinner but not after she ate a 16oz. steak, dessert and half your fries.  Further, the right compliment will fail in the wrong setting or at the wrong time.  Unfortunately, 'when' and 'where' require a judgement I am clearly not qualified to give.

Well, that was a bust.  Truth be told, I could fill a book with all of the compliments that don't work but I don't know the first thing about compliments that do; however, I can promise you sitting on your brains reading my toaster is not your next best step.  You must first entertain her presence...and that's one way I actually can help.

Blues, BBQs and Brews - Columbia county is quickly becoming the new Richmond county.  I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not.  Regardless, they are supplying some free tunes tonight at the Columbia County Amphitheater so I meant it as a compliment.  Free admission, BBQ and Brew will cost you.  Show starts at 7pm.

Park Art - Here's a wild opportunity.  Have you ever been to North Augusta's Living History Park?  If not, you need to check it out this weekend.  If so, you already know and I expect you'll be checking it out this weekend.  The Festival includes live music all day Saturday and Sunday as well as art from featured local artists.  This one's free, too, so giddy up.

African Children's Choir - "Helping Africa’s most vulnerable children today, so they can help Africa tomorrow."  With a mission like that, how could you say No?  It's free.  With a price like that how could you say No?  Tonight at Lakemont Presbyterian at 7pm.  You won't get many opportunities like this one.

Earth Day - Reduce, Re-use, Ridiculous.  Even still, there are opportunities.  Plan a picnic down by the river or at the lake.  Cook a candlelight dinner.  Get creative and do something planet friendly.  If we gotta live here, we might as well keep the place livable.

Compliments are hard.  I've meandered through nearly 600 words and that really is the best I can do.  Somehow, in all those words I haven't managed to say the first thing useful so I'll close with this: good compliments are meant and best served.

-Jake

Art of War

Sun Tzu may or may not have been a real person.  If he were a real person he would have been born in China around the year 400 BCE, a heroic general for king Wu and primary author of Art of War...hard to believe, I know, which is why his existence is questionable.  The alleged book is a treatise on the philosophy of war and, according to wikipedia, a discourse on winning battles (as opposed to the alternative...which would have been an equally delightful read, I'm sure).  Do not overlook the distinction between winning battles and fighting battles because, according to Sun, the former does not necessarily require the latter and that little nugget was enough to land Sun's supposed work a very coveted spot on my Amazon.com wishlist.  I will, but have not currently read Sun Tzu's Art of War and I believe that fact has more to do with the reality that I've never been a 9 year old girl than I am comfortable admitting.

I am staring at a half-empty sleeve of Thin Mints (in this case, half-empty is the optimistic position) and I am suddenly acutely aware that the Girl Scouts of America have made Sun's Art of War required reading.

I was at Lowe's last weekend.  Why was I at Lowe's?  To buy some stuff for the house--paint, drywall mud, a sink...stuff.  Why was I at Lowe's?  The truth is that the stuff was only part of the story; I know that now but she knew that then.  She, that cute sandy-haired girl with a giant toothy grin just a few years shy of braces.  She and her gaggle of green-vested grunts.  They.  They knew that men don't go to Lowe's to buy stuff.  They knew that men go to Lowe's to be men, to smell wood, inspect grills, to think of reasons to buy a heavy-duty coil roofing nailer...to be men.  They also know that Lowe's has exactly one exit and that most men will walk through that exit without wood, a grill or a heavy-duty coil roofing nailer and will be in need of redemption.  The trap was set and I didn't stand a change.

A feign of "would you like to help the Girl Scouts, mister?" followed by deception, disorder, heavily garrisoned narrow passes, a knowledge of your enemy, and eventually...inevitably, victory...Sun Tzu would be so proud (if he were real).

So what, right?  You're not here for my maniacal musings or my conspiracy theories.  I know why you're here.  If boredom be your foe, read on...

Masters Week - I'm sure there's a handful of goings ons this weekend that will be oh so entertaining.  I'm sure you'll have a grand time but don't you think I'll be missing you.  The truth is I'll be resting, lying in wait for Monday night--planning, preparing--because that's when it all really starts.  If you really really want to see me next week you'll go to the Mayor's Masters Reception at the Augusta Commons on Monday night for free food.  Tuesday you'll be at Rock Fore Dough over at the First Tee complex to see Hootie, Zac Brown and Shaun Mullins.  Wednesday and Thursday you'll find me on the dance floor of the Country Club for Locash Cowboys and the Swingin' Medallions, respectively.  I should be dead by Friday.

I've given you all the ammunition you should need to beat boredom into submission and I will not tolerate any failure to do so on your part.    If you can't have fun next week, you can't have fun and there is nothing I nor Sun Tzu can do to help...so go, take the high ground, be prepared, and have a blast.

In Vino Veritas

In wine, Truth.  Latin.  Dead language.  That concludes your lesson for today.  Please make checks payable to "Cash."

Sure, the saying maybe quite old, it may have been applied in interesting ways, and it may have been quoted in the greatest movie ever made (minus the horse scene), but do any of these things speak to the voracity of the claim?  Anecdotal evidence suggests that the saying should be In vino, drunk dial or in vino, indiscriminate (or maybe I just need to pay more attention to the third pillar of the Arch). So, I put it to you....is there truth in wine.  Are we nearer reality when the spirits lift us up and lower our guards?  No, probably not.  It is a saying, perhaps, for a man with a habit to justify (I'll have another...in vino veritas), a product to sell (have another...in vino veritas), or in need of a scapegoat (I told all because I had too many...in vino veritas), but not a lamp unto my feet.  No, I don't like "In vino veritas" much at all....but On vino veritas, now that my have legs.

Have you read the back of a bottle of wine lately?  I need to hire that guy to spruce up my match.com profile.  Mystical vineyards, a supernatural process of purification and redemption, bliss.  An experience that requires no less than seven adjectives to describe and it's all right there on the back of the bottle....a $9 bottle.  Swill merchants, right?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  I understand your skepticism.  We've all been burned by silver-tongued salesmen, but what if the scenery really is sublime, the process mind-boggling, and the taste delightful?  What if the marketer is merely a mouthpiece  whose verbiage the vintner vindicates?  What if...

In the end, none of it matters to the wine.  It is what it is and a person's willingness to try this wine or that will ebb and flow with what that person believes about the winemaker, the marketer and, let's be honest, the aesthetic value of the bottle...is there a larger metaphor here?  I don't know that but I do know that where you've been and what you do along the way will change the way people tell your story...so join me.

1810 Country Inn and Winery - Too obvious.  I normally list to-dos that are pending but this one really fit the theme.  Also, how many of you even knew Thomson had a winery?  See there...you're welcome.  Bed and breakfast, guided tours, fancy dinners...this has your name (and hers) written all over it.  Maybe not this weekend but it belongs on your short list.

Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus - You know, I've never been to the circus... I don't think.  If I have, then that's hardly the positive review they're expecting.  Fortunately, I have a pretty small readership (hi, mom).  All you really need to know is that it's the greatest show on earth and it's at the James Brown Arena this weekend.  Tickets start at 11.

Artist's Market - I dropped the ball last weekend, I'm sorry.  This Festival actually began last weekend with an artist's reception and the market will run through tomorrow.  If local art is your thing then this is probably your best opportunity to see what kind of talent we are hiding here in the CSRA.  Market is open to the public 8a-5p tomorrow at Gertrude Herbert Institute of Art.

Yellow Jessamine Festival - The yellow jessamine (or jasmine) is native to the south and is typically in bloom during the first four months of the year.  If you want to know more you'll have to ask google as my thumb is anything but green (I killed a cactus).  If you don't care about flowers and you just want to have a good time, you're still in the right place.  Art festival, kid's crafts and a food court (is that really a selling point?) are waiting to entertain you this weekend at Boeckh Park in North Augusta.  The Swinging Medallions round out what should be an excellent Saturday.

I know nothing of wine (which is why I was in the $9 section reading bottles) but I know a thing or two about telling a good story.  All good stories, like wine, begin quite unlike they end and somewhere after the beginning and before the end, all the really interesting stuff happens that makes the end so sweet.

-Jake

Wanna Get Naked?

I don't mean that in the immediate sense (i.e. do you want to get naked right now) and I don't mean it in a figurative sense (i.e. do you want to bare your soul) and I don't think she did either.  Honestly, I don't know exactly what she meant (though I can imagine) because, whatever answer she was looking for, she departed before I could complete my well-thought quip: "Like, right now? Here?  Wait, what?"  I can only assume the expected payout on the southern-dopey-white-guy slot machine was not, that night, high enough to warrant another spin.  

Las Vegas is a strange town.

If you've never been to Vegas, I highly recommend you grab a few friends and head out west....it's like Disney World--complete with rides, games, shows, lots of walking and long lines--for adults.  The similarities don't end there.  Like Disney World, Las Vegas is also a fantasy world, largely imaginary, and an exercise in suspending reality.

One of the things about Vegas that really caught me off-guard was how beautiful everything--everything--was.  Physical beauty and sophistication ooze from all of the people, places and things that are Vegas, baby.  Average--average looks, average income, average experience--is a term that is so far to the right of the standard deviation of the rest of the country that the word has lost its meaning.  Vegas creates a world so fantastic that the useful and necessary resources in Vegas have almost no value in the real world...and I ate it up.  Within hours of setting foot on the strip I was immersed, indoctrinated, intoxicated.  I judged every book by its cover and valued every option by its potential to satisfy me....I was back in middle school and acutely aware of my own short-comings.

Fortunately, I'm back.  Back where I am again the coolest, prettiest person I know.  I'm glad to be back (I had begun to miss my mirror) but I do miss all the options.  On the strip your senses are assaulted every six feet, figuratively, by this show or that club.  We don't have that problem in Augusta...normally.

Ed Turner & Number 9 - Deja Vu is both a club in Vegas and what you might be experiencing.  I mentioned this little opportunity last week and it's such a winner that it gets another hat tip this week.  I couldn't name 2 Beatles songs if I had to but I know a good time when I see it.  I've seen these guys once before and I'll be seeing them again tomorrow night.  Join me at Fort Discovery at 7pm.

The Beauty Queen of Leename - I'd be lying if I told you I've seen this show.  I've seen this show, it's amazing (I've always had problems building trust) and you'll love it.  It's about something that happened to this person, sometime ago.  Le Chat Noir is hosting performances this weekend, next and the following.  Say what you will of my review, but believe me that Le Chat Noir never disappoints.  Intimate off-Broadway style theater--$25 and worth it.

80's Night - As iconic and disastrous as the 80's were, I'm surprised Vegas has not created an 80's themed casino.  My guess is that it's coming (if the city doesn't go bankrupt first) but until then, Soul Bar is the one-stop venue for all your 80's party needs.  They usually have a cover charge and the party won't get rockin' until 11.  Take your dancing shoes and a shower before bed.

The Aiken Trials - It's horse racing season in Aiken and you know what that means...it's horse betting/mint julep season in Aiken.  The Aiken Trials is the first event of Aiken's Triple Crown and the festivities start this weekend at 10am.  The weather doesn't look like it's going to cooperate so you ladies may want to make sure your hat is weatherproof and big.  Fellas, keep drinking and you'll forget all about the rain and the money you owe the book.  General Admission tickets are $10.

I hope I haven't turned you off to Las Vegas.  There really is no other place like it and everyone should see it light up the desert at least once, but spending time there really makes you long for relationships that are reciprocal and unconditional.  If you've got that, you've got reason enough to party.  See you out.

-Jake

I Like Books

What a ridiculous title.  Of course, I like books--who doesn't like books?  Or, who would admit to not liking books, even if it were true? Just for the record…I also like food, smiling (it’s my favorite), oxygen, happiness and my reflection…but who doesn’t?

As Brian Regan appropriately points out, there isn’t much debate amongst the intelligentsia over the merits of reading, and, as a vehicle for the desired outcome, books are quite efficacious.  So, why am I bothering to tell you how much I like something that I not only should like but is also good for me?  Am I that inconsiderate of your time, that pretentious?  Well, yes and probably.

Sure, I like books for all the normal reasons:  They can keep you warm.  They make you taller...when stood upon rightly (when stood upon wrongly, they can make you a bigot).  They obey the laws of gravity and they encourage then things below them to do the same.  They lend credence to any argument ("I disagree.  You see, I was re-reading The Brothers Karamazov recently and I just don't see how you can believe that shirt goes with those pants.").  They float.  Yes, yes, all good reasons but I like them for the small victories they provide.

Of all the forms of media, books are the only ones that really let you mark your progress.  You see, I'm an underlining reader so I always use a pen as my place holder (bad for the spine, maybe but great for the soul) which ensures an underlining tool is nearby and also helps to overemphasize my progress...and nothing could be more satisfying (nothing?  really?).  Honestly, I could grab any book in my house (except my diary because it has those really thin, gold trimmed pages in a leather-bound case with a unicorn on the front cover...umm), put a pen somewhere near the middle, place the book in a prominent position and instantly feel better about myself.  If I were really bored, I could read twenty or so pages, replace the pen and actually see my progress.  For best results, own hardback books.

Clearly, I like books for all the right reason(s) but the weekend is nigh so I've got to lean on the wisdom of Beavis and Butthead at this point: "If I wanted to read, I'd go to school."  Put down the book, brainiac and get out there and have a great time.

Oklahoma! – Like a black fly in your chardonnay, this first event actually offers you an opportunity to go to school.  The ASU Drama Department is performing Rodgers and Hammerstein’s beloved O-K-L-A-H-O-M-A….Oklahoma! this weekend.  Fellas, bring an extra $15 for your date’s ticket…picking her up in a surrey with the fringe on top is optional but encouraged.

Attic Sale and Preview Party – Every year the Junior League of Augusta punishes its members by forcing them to rummage through their attics, basements and garages to produce hundreds of dollars worth of….well, stuff they no longer (perhaps never) want.  Dozens of women work tirelessly all week to produce Augusta’s largest annual yard sale…but before they sale comes the party.  Preview party is tonight at the fairground and it’ll cost you $25 to eat bar-b-que, listen to live music, bid at a silent auction and pay double.  Attic sale starts tomorrow at 7am.  Prices drop to half on Sunday.  All proceeds benefit Augusta by way of Junior League initiatives.

First Friday – It’s a new month which means another First Friday is here.  This is Augusta’s monthly downtown street party complete with fire eaters, street vendors, and classic cars.  If you end up downtown tonight, be sure to check out the Grand Opening of Shoppe 31:30 at 1126 Broad St.  Free...my favorite price.

Four Nights in Nine – I don’t really know how to sell this one.  If you’re not interested in a group of Augusta’s finest musicians performing some of the Beatles’ greatest hits for charity then there’s not much I can say to bring you back to life.  I’m a blogger, not a witch doctor.  Seriously, go to this concert.  Fort Discovery tonight and tomorrow, 7pm – until, $25

Right, so the weekend is here and it’s time to mark your page and leave the book on the coffee table (just in case you have company).  Hopefully you’ll be able to use some of the suggestions above to punctuate your progress through the weekend.  Have fun!

-Jake

Child's Play

Can I be honest?

That was a rhetorical question.  If your answer was 'no' then the rest of this page should serve as notice that you've got to the end of this sentence to change your mind or close your browser.

Very well...the courageous endure.

I am crushed.  Like a ship searching too closely to shore for safe harbor, I am dashed on the rocks of love denied.  I.  Am.  Crushed.  I haven't slept in three days.  I'm starting to see that my love (or lack) life most closely resembles a game of red rover, red rover, send Jackie on over; a child's game for adults.  I rush headlong into bonds which, far from pliable, barely bend.  Like the pathetic child who was first withheld, I redouble my efforts only to find a redoubled resistance.  Exhausted and alone, I succumb to reality.  Then, suddenly, the voice of a friend echoes through my head: "what does 'trusting God' look like in regards to our dating relationships?"

I did not have a good response when I was first presented with the question so I said nothing.  I still don't have a good response but current events demand a response so I'm going to plagiarize a bit.  Let's start with the proverbial wisdom:  guard your heart.  This seems to work and it fits pretty well with my normal cynicism (which makes me look smart for having the answer all along).  I'm imagining men in dark suits with their backs to the world restraining any and all comers from the celebrity of my heart.  This image works for me...too bad it's wrong.  Just ask C.S. Lewis.

Let's try a different kind of guard…a royal guard (with funny hats if you like)?   They would guard differently.  They would not look in, but out at the world.  The would only enemies of the Kingdom would be restrained while all others would come and go freely.  We're progressing.  If you believe that God took out our heart of stone and gave us a heart of flesh--finally capable of joy and kindness--and this same God plans to give us a future and a hope, withholds no good, sends nothing unnecessary, and commits to finish the good work He has begun in us--if you believe that--then the answer is simple.  Trusting God means guarding against a hardening heart.  If relationships don't work, if life doesn't work out, out then grieve, shave your head, tear you tunic; but, don't ever harden your heart.

Why?  Because a hard heart is rigid, small, fragile and selfish.  Hard hearts live a life on rails.  A life without possibility of pain is a life without options, potential and freedom.  We'd miss so much because there is so much to miss...

Wine Tasting - These kinds of things are lost on me.  Red, white, dessert, breakfast, champagne...whatever.  If it tastes like fruit and makes me want to dance, I'll have two.  Fortunately the fine folks at Wine World hold little events like this for lost causes like me.  5-8pm tonight at Wine World in North Augusta, $5ish.

Into the Woods - If they ever make a Jake London action figure (I'm currently in talks with Mattel), it would not be without authentic Kung-fu grip, devastating Judo chop action, and two tickets to an upcoming theater event.  If said toy were released today, it would be awesome and in need of a date (caribou Barbie, maybe?) for the Augusta Players' performance of Into the Woods this weekend (Real Life Jake will be at the Saturday show).  Tickets from $15 at the Imperial Theatre.

Downtown Work Day - Here's one of those things hard hearted people miss.  These kinds of things expand our plotline...they give us an opportunity to add depth to our community, and we'll never experience that depth as long as we are the lead character--the only character--in our respective story.  Good work with good friends will, appropriately, be followed by a good feast.  8am Saturday, $4 for the food.

Miller Theater Birthday Celebration - I never really realized that the Miller Theater was such a big deal.  It was built in 1940 (it'll be 69 this year) by Frank Miller (a man who could be credited with bring the performing arts to Augusta) to accommodate a growing demand for film and movie productions.  The theater was abandoned in the 80's only to be recently been revived and converted in to condominiums.  Join the Friends of the Miller for cake and guided tours 3pm on Sunday.

Other than the Bible, I really rely heavily on the movie Rounders for intense theological and philosophical discourse:  "You can't lose what you don't put in the middle...But you can't win much either."  Amen.  Trusting God doesn't mean we'll lose less and it doesn't mean we'll suffer less--it means we'll live more.

-Jake

Disclaimer: this is hardly an exhaustive analysis of the topic.  In an effort to be brief, I've left a lot unsaid.  Also, I'm not a historian, theologian, pastor, teacher, etc.  I am a Christian who has wrestled and is wrestling with this topic.  These thoughts are the thoughts that have been poured into me over the last year and I'm sure they will change as I grow.  My only hope is that these words will be a guide for the reader toward Christ.  If they are not...discard immediately.

Grammatically Speaking

They call it Language Arts...Language Arts.  Art is hardly a word I would use in the same sentence as mention of that 8th grade dual-hour disaster, much less a word I would use to describe the result; but, there it is in the name, begging to be rightly understood.

I only bring it up because I was reading and thinking the other day (hard to believe perhaps, but it was stardate 2-7-2009 and I remember it vividly because the two have not simultaneously occurred prior nor since) and something I read stopped me dead in my proverbial tracks.  Sadly, I can't remember what it was that struck me (now, that's good story telling...) but I do remember the feeling.  I took note of the feeling because it wasn't my normal feeling of bewilderment, that "wait-what-did-I-just-read" fogginess that accompanies any sentence with two commas or a word with four syllables (a man must know his limits).  Instead it was almost a moment of clarity.  A moment of wow.  Oh, the artistry of language.  Now I get that which my 8th grade brain had no interest to learn and my teacher had no will to teach (bless her heart).

The thought of my MLA handbook as a craftsman's tool is an affront to my digestion and an insult to my ignorance but there it is...the truth is often uncomfortable and rarely within my grasp.  Here are few writers who have elevated language to an art form...in a single sentence.

Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona, where we lay our scene, from ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.  - Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare

Paul, a servant of God and an apostle of Jesus Christ for the faith of God’s elect and the knowledge of the truth that leads to godliness—a faith and knowledge resting on the hope of eternal life, which God, who does not lie, promised before the beginning of time, and at his appointed season he brought his word to light through the preaching entrusted to me by the command of God our Savior, to Titus, my true son in our common faith: Grace and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Savior. - Titus by Paul the Apostle

Call me Ishmael. - Moby Dick by Herman Melville

Every comma ups the ante and I plead "tell me more!"  You see, great stories are lovingly crafted by gifted wordsmiths and those stories give color and life to experiences which, left to lesser hands (read: my hands) would be short, boring and poorly punctuated.  But, I'm not totally without use.  Great stories do have to start somewhere, and I might just have a few ideas....

Jamey Johnson - So, I was at this bar last Friday night....not exactly the stuff of legends, eh?  Let me suggest that it's all a matter of framing.  How about "so, I was dancing with this girl last Friday night."  Better, right?  Give it a shot Friday night at The Country Club.  Jamey Johnson will provide the tunes, the rest is up to you, slick.  $15 in advance.

Dawn Walk - For those of you who know me, this suggestion will strike you as odd (for those of you who don't know me...Hi, I'm Jake).  Rarely has my story begun before dawn or in nature but "it takes all kinds" (so they say) and you might just be that kind.  Phinizy Swamp at 5:30am on Saturday.  Bring $5 for the fee, a coat for the cold and a friend for the company because I won't be there.

Serve Augusta - You like options?  Show up at Warren Baptist Church on Saturday morning at 8:30 and you'll have all the options you can handle.  A veritable choose-your-own-adventure of story telling.  Personally, I'll be heading down to the Widow's Home to do some demolition and clean up but that is just one of the many many options available.  This one won't cost you a dime but the best part is that service is the stuff of legends.

Battle of Aiken - If starting a whole new story sounds a bit overwhelming; this is the outing for you.  All you have to do is show up and watch people relive the tried and true story of the Battle of Aiken.  Never heard of it?  Me neither.  Confederate history not your thing?  Maybe bar-b-que is.  The battle will rage all day Friday and Saturday and the bar-b-que will follow on Saturday when, presumably, the Union and Confederate soldiers will settle their differences and pass the potato salad.

We humans have been telling our stories, good and bad, since the beginning of time.  So, when you answer the question "What did you do last weekend" I hope you'll answer artfully and with lots of commas.

-Jake