Thursday, June 28, 2007
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
I got a text message about 10 PM last night from Mike Clark, saying that former Northwest High basketball coach Willard Ross had been shot and killed earlier in the day. I went to the Leaf-Chronicle's webpage, read the horrific news, and tried all night to process it. I called a few people whom I thought would be interested, but, due to the late hour, didn't talk long to anyone.
Coach Ross was my favorite teacher in high school, and I am just sick about this. I was unable to get any sleep last night, and have not really done anything at work today. I am just sick. I want to puke.
For those who have seen the movie "Forrest Gump", think back to the scene where Forrest gets on the bus for the first time, and all the kids say things like, "seat's taken", "can't sit here", and the like. Then Jenny says that he can ride with her if he'd like. Coach Ross let me ride with him, no questions asked.
I remember that my bus would get to school about 6:50 each morning, and since the first class didn't start until 7:30, I would go to Coach Ross' office and hang out. We would read the paper and talk about the news and our beloved Celtics. We would look over the box scores of the previous days' baseball games, and talk about who was hot and who was not. Good times, indeed. His office was a safe place for me, a place I could go and never be ridiculed or made fun of. He took me for who I was, and for that I will always be grateful.
I understand he had just retired last year, and it sickens me that he was cheated out of the opportunity to spend his golden years with his grand kids. It sickens me that he and his wife were cheated out of the opportunity to spend those years with each other. It's just not fair.
In philosophy, the word "evil" is usually defined as "innocent suffering". Those who deny the existence of God often point to the presence of evil in the world as proof of the lack of a God. This is something that I have difficulty explaining away. The standard "everything happens for a reason" is woefully inadequate.
I never knew Coach Ross to say a cross word about anyone. I remember that he always called everyone by their last name, except for seniors, who he addressed by their first names. I guess he figured if you'd made it that far, you deserved a little respect. i remember that he gave me some tips on becoming a better umpire, and that I was grateful. I don't know that he ever umpired himself, but he had coached the girls' softball team, and probably knew what he liked and didn't like in an umpire. I remember that he asked me once to umpire the softball team's inter squad game. I remember that he paid me, and that he gave me a ride home afterward. I have never known any other coach to go out his way to help an umpire like that.
I remember that during the winter, when the P.E. class would stay inside, each person was assigned to a group, and each group would rotate among basketball, ping pong, badminton, other activities. I remember that since I excelled at ping pong, and was horrible at basketball, he would look the other way when I would stay at the ping pong station instead of moving to basketball. I remember appreciating that a great deal.
The man was quality, and he will be sorely missed.
Peace...
Coach Ross was my favorite teacher in high school, and I am just sick about this. I was unable to get any sleep last night, and have not really done anything at work today. I am just sick. I want to puke.
For those who have seen the movie "Forrest Gump", think back to the scene where Forrest gets on the bus for the first time, and all the kids say things like, "seat's taken", "can't sit here", and the like. Then Jenny says that he can ride with her if he'd like. Coach Ross let me ride with him, no questions asked.
I remember that my bus would get to school about 6:50 each morning, and since the first class didn't start until 7:30, I would go to Coach Ross' office and hang out. We would read the paper and talk about the news and our beloved Celtics. We would look over the box scores of the previous days' baseball games, and talk about who was hot and who was not. Good times, indeed. His office was a safe place for me, a place I could go and never be ridiculed or made fun of. He took me for who I was, and for that I will always be grateful.
I understand he had just retired last year, and it sickens me that he was cheated out of the opportunity to spend his golden years with his grand kids. It sickens me that he and his wife were cheated out of the opportunity to spend those years with each other. It's just not fair.
In philosophy, the word "evil" is usually defined as "innocent suffering". Those who deny the existence of God often point to the presence of evil in the world as proof of the lack of a God. This is something that I have difficulty explaining away. The standard "everything happens for a reason" is woefully inadequate.
I never knew Coach Ross to say a cross word about anyone. I remember that he always called everyone by their last name, except for seniors, who he addressed by their first names. I guess he figured if you'd made it that far, you deserved a little respect. i remember that he gave me some tips on becoming a better umpire, and that I was grateful. I don't know that he ever umpired himself, but he had coached the girls' softball team, and probably knew what he liked and didn't like in an umpire. I remember that he asked me once to umpire the softball team's inter squad game. I remember that he paid me, and that he gave me a ride home afterward. I have never known any other coach to go out his way to help an umpire like that.
I remember that during the winter, when the P.E. class would stay inside, each person was assigned to a group, and each group would rotate among basketball, ping pong, badminton, other activities. I remember that since I excelled at ping pong, and was horrible at basketball, he would look the other way when I would stay at the ping pong station instead of moving to basketball. I remember appreciating that a great deal.
The man was quality, and he will be sorely missed.
Peace...
On the Mindless Menace of Violence
The following is the text of a speech, entitled "On the Mindless Menace of Violence", given by Robert F. Kennedy at the City Club of Cleveland, April 5, 1968.
This is a time of shame and sorrow. It is not a day for politics. I have saved this one opportunity, my only event of today, to speak briefly to you about the mindless menace of violence in America which again stains our land and every one of our lives.
It is not the concern of any one race. The victims of the violence are black and white, rich and poor, young and old, famous and unknown. They are, most important of all, human beings whom other human beings loved and needed. No one - no matter where he lives or what he does - can be certain who will suffer from some senseless act of bloodshed. And yet it goes on and on and on in this country of ours.
Why? What has violence ever accomplished? What has it ever created? No martyr's cause has ever been stilled by an assassin's bullet.
No wrongs have ever been righted by riots and civil disorders. A sniper is only a coward, not a hero; and an uncontrolled, uncontrollable mob is only the voice of madness, not the voice of reason.
Whenever any American's life is taken by another American unnecessarily - whether it is done in the name of the law or in the defiance of the law, by one man or a gang, in cold blood or in passion, in an attack of violence or in response to violence - whenever we tear at the fabric of the life which another man has painfully and clumsily woven for himself and his children, the whole nation is degraded.
"Among free men," said Abraham Lincoln, "there can be no successful appeal from the ballot to the bullet; and those who take such appeal are sure to lose their cause and pay the costs."
Yet we seemingly tolerate a rising level of violence that ignores our common humanity and our claims to civilization alike. We calmly accept newspaper reports of civilian slaughter in far-off lands. We glorify killing on movie and television screens and call it entertainment. We make it easy for men of all shades of sanity to acquire whatever weapons and ammunition they desire.
Too often we honor swagger and bluster and wielders of force; too often we excuse those who are willing to build their own lives on the shattered dreams of others. Some Americans who preach non-violence abroad fail to practice it here at home. Some who accuse others of inciting riots have by their own conduct invited them.
Some look for scapegoats, others look for conspiracies, but this much is clear: violence breeds violence, repression brings retaliation, and only a cleansing of our whole society can remove this sickness from our soul.
For there is another kind of violence, slower but just as deadly destructive as the shot or the bomb in the night. This is the violence of institutions; indifference and inaction and slow decay. This is the violence that afflicts the poor, that poisons relations between men because their skin has different colors. This is the slow destruction of a child by hunger, and schools without books and homes without heat in the winter.
This is the breaking of a man's spirit by denying him the chance to stand as a father and as a man among other men. And this too afflicts us all.
I have not come here to propose a set of specific remedies nor is there a single set. For a broad and adequate outline we know what must be done. When you teach a man to hate and fear his brother, when you teach that he is a lesser man because of his color or his beliefs or the policies he pursues, when you teach that those who differ from you threaten your freedom or your job or your family, then you also learn to confront others not as fellow citizens but as enemies, to be met not with cooperation but with conquest; to be subjugated and mastered.
We learn, at the last, to look at our brothers as aliens, men with whom we share a city, but not a community; men bound to us in common dwelling, but not in common effort. We learn to share only a common fear, only a common desire to retreat from each other, only a common impulse to meet disagreement with force. For all this, there are no final answers.
Yet we know what we must do. It is to achieve true justice among our fellow citizens. The question is not what programs we should seek to enact. The question is whether we can find in our own midst and in our own hearts that leadership of humane purpose that will recognize the terrible truths of our existence.
We must admit the vanity of our false distinctions among men and learn to find our own advancement in the search for the advancement of others. We must admit in ourselves that our own children's future cannot be built on the misfortunes of others. We must recognize that this short life can neither be ennobled or enriched by hatred or revenge.
Our lives on this planet are too short and the work to be done too great to let this spirit flourish any longer in our land. Of course we cannot vanquish it with a program, nor with a resolution.
But we can perhaps remember, if only for a time, that those who live with us are our brothers, that they share with us the same short moment of life; that they seek, as do we, nothing but the chance to live out their lives in purpose and in happiness, winning what satisfaction and fulfillment they can.
Surely, this bond of common faith, this bond of common goal, can begin to teach us something. Surely, we can learn, at least, to look at those around us as fellow men, and surely we can begin to work a little harder to bind up the wounds among us and to become in our own hearts brothers and countrymen once again.
This is a time of shame and sorrow. It is not a day for politics. I have saved this one opportunity, my only event of today, to speak briefly to you about the mindless menace of violence in America which again stains our land and every one of our lives.
It is not the concern of any one race. The victims of the violence are black and white, rich and poor, young and old, famous and unknown. They are, most important of all, human beings whom other human beings loved and needed. No one - no matter where he lives or what he does - can be certain who will suffer from some senseless act of bloodshed. And yet it goes on and on and on in this country of ours.
Why? What has violence ever accomplished? What has it ever created? No martyr's cause has ever been stilled by an assassin's bullet.
No wrongs have ever been righted by riots and civil disorders. A sniper is only a coward, not a hero; and an uncontrolled, uncontrollable mob is only the voice of madness, not the voice of reason.
Whenever any American's life is taken by another American unnecessarily - whether it is done in the name of the law or in the defiance of the law, by one man or a gang, in cold blood or in passion, in an attack of violence or in response to violence - whenever we tear at the fabric of the life which another man has painfully and clumsily woven for himself and his children, the whole nation is degraded.
"Among free men," said Abraham Lincoln, "there can be no successful appeal from the ballot to the bullet; and those who take such appeal are sure to lose their cause and pay the costs."
Yet we seemingly tolerate a rising level of violence that ignores our common humanity and our claims to civilization alike. We calmly accept newspaper reports of civilian slaughter in far-off lands. We glorify killing on movie and television screens and call it entertainment. We make it easy for men of all shades of sanity to acquire whatever weapons and ammunition they desire.
Too often we honor swagger and bluster and wielders of force; too often we excuse those who are willing to build their own lives on the shattered dreams of others. Some Americans who preach non-violence abroad fail to practice it here at home. Some who accuse others of inciting riots have by their own conduct invited them.
Some look for scapegoats, others look for conspiracies, but this much is clear: violence breeds violence, repression brings retaliation, and only a cleansing of our whole society can remove this sickness from our soul.
For there is another kind of violence, slower but just as deadly destructive as the shot or the bomb in the night. This is the violence of institutions; indifference and inaction and slow decay. This is the violence that afflicts the poor, that poisons relations between men because their skin has different colors. This is the slow destruction of a child by hunger, and schools without books and homes without heat in the winter.
This is the breaking of a man's spirit by denying him the chance to stand as a father and as a man among other men. And this too afflicts us all.
I have not come here to propose a set of specific remedies nor is there a single set. For a broad and adequate outline we know what must be done. When you teach a man to hate and fear his brother, when you teach that he is a lesser man because of his color or his beliefs or the policies he pursues, when you teach that those who differ from you threaten your freedom or your job or your family, then you also learn to confront others not as fellow citizens but as enemies, to be met not with cooperation but with conquest; to be subjugated and mastered.
We learn, at the last, to look at our brothers as aliens, men with whom we share a city, but not a community; men bound to us in common dwelling, but not in common effort. We learn to share only a common fear, only a common desire to retreat from each other, only a common impulse to meet disagreement with force. For all this, there are no final answers.
Yet we know what we must do. It is to achieve true justice among our fellow citizens. The question is not what programs we should seek to enact. The question is whether we can find in our own midst and in our own hearts that leadership of humane purpose that will recognize the terrible truths of our existence.
We must admit the vanity of our false distinctions among men and learn to find our own advancement in the search for the advancement of others. We must admit in ourselves that our own children's future cannot be built on the misfortunes of others. We must recognize that this short life can neither be ennobled or enriched by hatred or revenge.
Our lives on this planet are too short and the work to be done too great to let this spirit flourish any longer in our land. Of course we cannot vanquish it with a program, nor with a resolution.
But we can perhaps remember, if only for a time, that those who live with us are our brothers, that they share with us the same short moment of life; that they seek, as do we, nothing but the chance to live out their lives in purpose and in happiness, winning what satisfaction and fulfillment they can.
Surely, this bond of common faith, this bond of common goal, can begin to teach us something. Surely, we can learn, at least, to look at those around us as fellow men, and surely we can begin to work a little harder to bind up the wounds among us and to become in our own hearts brothers and countrymen once again.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Alex is 1 month old today. He has already grown and changed so much, it is incredible. He looks more like Michelle now than when he was first born. He still has his red hair like me, though :)
I had some family passing through town on Saturday. My grandparents, and my ubcle Don and aunt Lana Jo were on their way to Hot Springs, Arkansas, and stopped for a while to visit. Alex enjoyed being held by his great-granny.
The morning of my first Father's Day as a father was spent at the E.R. We were worried that Alex was not eating enough, since he had been taking about 70-80 cc's at the hospital and had dropped down to only about 25 cc's at home. Turns out it was "user error" on the part of the parents. Every time he would make a sound, we would jump on him with a bottle. As a result, we were not giving him enough time to get hungry, so he would not eat much. After some instruction from the doctors and nurses, we now have him on a 4-hour eating schedule. We also have become better at burping him, which allows him to eat more. So, he is doing really well now. Growing like a weed.
Alex and I enjoyed watching the U.S. Open this weekend. I heard him say, "Tiger good, Mickelson bad." He is maturing so quickly, it's almost unbelievable ;).
Michelle's mom (henceforth, "Grammy") has been here since Sunday afternoon, and has been a godsend. She has helped out so much, it is crazy. Unfortunately, she has to leave tomorrow. Something about her son getting married in a couple of weeks. Hopefully, we will be able to make it to the wedding. I am not sure if Alex is up for traveling.
We had a appointment at the pediatrician yesterday, and after that we took Alex by the church where I work. The ladies in the office have been wanting to see him, and they were overjoyed while he visited. The volunteer who worked today was a little jealous...LOL.
My parents are coming to visit Thursday. It will be nice to see them again. My dad tried to act like they were coming to visit us, but I told him I realize that Alex is the star of the show now...LOL.
My brother Tim called me Sunday night to wish me a happy Father's day. We had a great conversation, and he gave me some good advice. My friend Mike Clark, who has four kids, has experienced several Father's Days, and is a great father to his kids. Both those guys inspire me.
I hope everyone is doing well. Peace...
I had some family passing through town on Saturday. My grandparents, and my ubcle Don and aunt Lana Jo were on their way to Hot Springs, Arkansas, and stopped for a while to visit. Alex enjoyed being held by his great-granny.
The morning of my first Father's Day as a father was spent at the E.R. We were worried that Alex was not eating enough, since he had been taking about 70-80 cc's at the hospital and had dropped down to only about 25 cc's at home. Turns out it was "user error" on the part of the parents. Every time he would make a sound, we would jump on him with a bottle. As a result, we were not giving him enough time to get hungry, so he would not eat much. After some instruction from the doctors and nurses, we now have him on a 4-hour eating schedule. We also have become better at burping him, which allows him to eat more. So, he is doing really well now. Growing like a weed.
Alex and I enjoyed watching the U.S. Open this weekend. I heard him say, "Tiger good, Mickelson bad." He is maturing so quickly, it's almost unbelievable ;).
Michelle's mom (henceforth, "Grammy") has been here since Sunday afternoon, and has been a godsend. She has helped out so much, it is crazy. Unfortunately, she has to leave tomorrow. Something about her son getting married in a couple of weeks. Hopefully, we will be able to make it to the wedding. I am not sure if Alex is up for traveling.
We had a appointment at the pediatrician yesterday, and after that we took Alex by the church where I work. The ladies in the office have been wanting to see him, and they were overjoyed while he visited. The volunteer who worked today was a little jealous...LOL.
My parents are coming to visit Thursday. It will be nice to see them again. My dad tried to act like they were coming to visit us, but I told him I realize that Alex is the star of the show now...LOL.
My brother Tim called me Sunday night to wish me a happy Father's day. We had a great conversation, and he gave me some good advice. My friend Mike Clark, who has four kids, has experienced several Father's Days, and is a great father to his kids. Both those guys inspire me.
I hope everyone is doing well. Peace...
Friday, June 15, 2007
Alex's first night at home was miserable for everyone, especially himself. Not long after he got home, we fed him, and it went downhill from there. He got some really bad gas, and struggled all night to get rid of it. And I mean all night. At 4:00 AM, we were ready to take him to the ER, but we held off, Thankfully, he started to fell a little better, so at 4:30, having given up on sleep, I went down the street to get the papers. When I got back, we gave him another dose of his medicine, and shortly after that, he was able to eat a little. After eating, he slept a little, and Michelle and I tried to get some sleep as well.
Michelle made coffee, and I made breakfast. We inhaled our food while he slept, then I took a shower. Michelle is doing the same now, and Alex is sleeping. Wow. These past 12 hours have flown by at 150 MPH. I hope things slow down soon.
I pre-mixed several bottles of formula, so he is ready to go when he wakes up.
I have some family who will be passing through Memphis tomorrow on their way to Hot Springs Arkansas, and they are planning on stopping by. Michelle parents are coming into town Sunday afternoon, and my parents are coming one day next week. It will be fun to see everyone. I know they are all excited to see Alex.
By the way, Alex told me yesterday, "Tiger Woods good, Phil Mickelson bad." I told him we would have fun watching the US Open all weekend. I remember that Norm Brumblay's first son was born on Super Bowl Sunday, and the first thing they did together was watch the game. That's sweet.
I hope everyone is doing well. Peace...
Michelle made coffee, and I made breakfast. We inhaled our food while he slept, then I took a shower. Michelle is doing the same now, and Alex is sleeping. Wow. These past 12 hours have flown by at 150 MPH. I hope things slow down soon.
I pre-mixed several bottles of formula, so he is ready to go when he wakes up.
I have some family who will be passing through Memphis tomorrow on their way to Hot Springs Arkansas, and they are planning on stopping by. Michelle parents are coming into town Sunday afternoon, and my parents are coming one day next week. It will be fun to see everyone. I know they are all excited to see Alex.
By the way, Alex told me yesterday, "Tiger Woods good, Phil Mickelson bad." I told him we would have fun watching the US Open all weekend. I remember that Norm Brumblay's first son was born on Super Bowl Sunday, and the first thing they did together was watch the game. That's sweet.
I hope everyone is doing well. Peace...
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Alex is Home!
We are super-excited to finally have Alex at home. We went to the hospital at 8:00, and we were out the door in about 45 minutes or so. Everything went really smooth, so that was good.
We gave him a bath, a new diaper, some dinner from mama, and now he is ready for bed. So are we. LOL.
Peace...
We gave him a bath, a new diaper, some dinner from mama, and now he is ready for bed. So are we. LOL.
Peace...
And Then There Were Three...
Oh my goodness. Oh wow. Whew. Hmm...
Tonight, finally, I truly become a father. Alex finishes his antibiotic at 7:30 tonight, and then he is coming home. Yay! Don't even ask me if I am in freak-out mode. No longer is the hospital responsible for his care, but we are. Michelle and I are both, at the same time, euphoric and mortified. LOL.
We talked last night, and came to the conclusion that if OUR parents can do it, we can do it, too. LOL.
Every hour last night, I would mention to Michelle that in one less hour, Alex would be at home. We tried to relax by watching a movie, and it helped some, but we were still freaking out.
We'd like to say thanks to everyone for their support. Thanks so much.
Peace,
Chris
Thursday, June 07, 2007
This morning, I saw where Lebron James' girlfriend is due to give birth one day next week, a day that James' team has a game scheduled. He said emphatically that if the baby does come on a game day, he would not attend the birth, and instead would play in the game. I have also recently heard Jeff Gordon say that if he needs to miss a race to attend the birth of his upcoming child, he would do so. Tiger Woods' wife is due to give birth during the British Open next month, and he has said he would skip it in order to be there for the birth.
There was a time when athletes rarely took time off from their sports to attend the birth of their children. The prevailing attitude was that the game was more important than the family. Then, a hockey player's wife died while giving birth, with the hockey player on the road. Attitudes began to shift, and now it is common for athletes to miss games in order to witness the birth of their children. In this light, I am incredulous that James, or anyone else, would miss the birth of a child in order to play. That seems screwed up.
There was a time when athletes rarely took time off from their sports to attend the birth of their children. The prevailing attitude was that the game was more important than the family. Then, a hockey player's wife died while giving birth, with the hockey player on the road. Attitudes began to shift, and now it is common for athletes to miss games in order to witness the birth of their children. In this light, I am incredulous that James, or anyone else, would miss the birth of a child in order to play. That seems screwed up.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Michelle snapped some new pictures this morning, so we hope you enjoy them.
It has been interesting to monitor Alex's neighbors in the NICU. When he was first admitted, his neighbor was a baby named Terrance. Terrance was also born on the 19th, and he was also premature. Alex stayed in that bed for a few days, then he moved across the room. His neighbor became Whitman, who was born 11 weeks early, and had already been there about 4 weeks. While we were neighbors with Whitman, we became friendly with his parents. When things settle down, I think we will try to go out to dinner with them. Whitman went home on Memorial day, so Alex waved goodbye...LOL. Then, Terrance was moved into the spot Whitman had vacated, and he stayed there several days. Today, Terrance was moved somewhere else, and a girl moved in. I do not know what her name is.
Michelle and I adopted an attitude on the first day that we would encourage all the parents of children in the NICU. It seems that we are all in the same boat, so Michelle and I root for the other kids to get to go home.
I attended an iMovie workshop today at the Apple store. iMovie is the application that allows a user to edit and manipulate home videos, and turn them into entertaining movies. I am working on the footage I shot of Alex's birth. I think it will turn out great.
I hope everyone is doing well. Peace...
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
I promised a couple of people yesterday that I would update the blog, so I apologize for the delay.
So much has happened since I last posted, it's crazy. When I last posted, we had become very encouraged by Alex's feedings. He seemed to be taking the bottle very well, so we thought it would be a matter days before he could coem home. Alas, he backtracked quite a bit. He stopped taking the bottle at all, so the nurses had to reinsert his feeding tube and he got his nourishment like that for several days. He also developed a fever, so he back on an I.V. antibiotic. Needless to say, at that point, we had become very DIScouraged...LOL.
However, in the last couple of days, he has really started to take the bottle. In fact, he is taking full bottles several times a day now. And, he has gained quite a bit of weight in just the last two days. He is at 5 lbs., 2.5 oz. So, this is once again very encouraging! I visited him alone a few nights ago, and asked the nurse to give me her opinion on how long it would be until he could come home. She told me to expect around the original due date, June 28. Which sort of makes sense, since that was the due date. So, we are anxiously awaiting his arrival.
This past Saturday, Memphis played Austin Peay in baseball at Vanderbilt, as part of the first round of the national tournament. At the last minute that morning, I talked Michelle into making the road trip. We got started late, but we hit the road. When we got to Dickson, we were greeted by the mother of all thunderstorms. I remember Michelle commenting that she had no desire to sit in the rain watching a baseball game. I sort of laughed it off, saying that I thought the storm would pass south of Nashville. I hoped I sounded more confident than I really was.
We got to the game in the bottom of the third, only to find that all the tickets were sold out. With Vanderbilt being the #1 team in the nation for the bulk of the season, the local people were quite excited and had purchased most of the tickets. So, we found a scalper, who may have been the scariest looking dude either of us had ever met, and we negotiated a decent price for two ducats. About 5 minutes after we sat down, the aforementioned mother of all storms descended upon Hawkins field, the game was halted, and the crowd was quickly shuttled into the basketball gym. While there, we watched two Vandy basketball players shooting for about an hour. At that point, which was about 4:00, a Vandy official announed that the game would resume at 7:30 that night. Knowing that we could not be in Nashville all night, we proceeded to turn around and head home. We drove 3+ hours to Nashville, watched 5 minutes of baseball, an hour of basketball, ate at O'Charley's, then went home. That was absolutely insane. Oh well.
I downloaded the video podcast of the Steve Jobs-Bill Gates discussion that occured last week at the D5 conference. I listened to most of it today while driving around running errands. It was great to hear them tell some funny stories about the old days, and hearing them talk about the days ahead.
I am preaching Sunday at CrossRoads, so I have been working this week on a sermon. It is coming along pretty well. I hope it is coherent. The youth group is having a lock-in at the church on Friday night. That should be lots of fun.
I hope everyone is doing well. Peace...
So much has happened since I last posted, it's crazy. When I last posted, we had become very encouraged by Alex's feedings. He seemed to be taking the bottle very well, so we thought it would be a matter days before he could coem home. Alas, he backtracked quite a bit. He stopped taking the bottle at all, so the nurses had to reinsert his feeding tube and he got his nourishment like that for several days. He also developed a fever, so he back on an I.V. antibiotic. Needless to say, at that point, we had become very DIScouraged...LOL.
However, in the last couple of days, he has really started to take the bottle. In fact, he is taking full bottles several times a day now. And, he has gained quite a bit of weight in just the last two days. He is at 5 lbs., 2.5 oz. So, this is once again very encouraging! I visited him alone a few nights ago, and asked the nurse to give me her opinion on how long it would be until he could come home. She told me to expect around the original due date, June 28. Which sort of makes sense, since that was the due date. So, we are anxiously awaiting his arrival.
This past Saturday, Memphis played Austin Peay in baseball at Vanderbilt, as part of the first round of the national tournament. At the last minute that morning, I talked Michelle into making the road trip. We got started late, but we hit the road. When we got to Dickson, we were greeted by the mother of all thunderstorms. I remember Michelle commenting that she had no desire to sit in the rain watching a baseball game. I sort of laughed it off, saying that I thought the storm would pass south of Nashville. I hoped I sounded more confident than I really was.
We got to the game in the bottom of the third, only to find that all the tickets were sold out. With Vanderbilt being the #1 team in the nation for the bulk of the season, the local people were quite excited and had purchased most of the tickets. So, we found a scalper, who may have been the scariest looking dude either of us had ever met, and we negotiated a decent price for two ducats. About 5 minutes after we sat down, the aforementioned mother of all storms descended upon Hawkins field, the game was halted, and the crowd was quickly shuttled into the basketball gym. While there, we watched two Vandy basketball players shooting for about an hour. At that point, which was about 4:00, a Vandy official announed that the game would resume at 7:30 that night. Knowing that we could not be in Nashville all night, we proceeded to turn around and head home. We drove 3+ hours to Nashville, watched 5 minutes of baseball, an hour of basketball, ate at O'Charley's, then went home. That was absolutely insane. Oh well.
I downloaded the video podcast of the Steve Jobs-Bill Gates discussion that occured last week at the D5 conference. I listened to most of it today while driving around running errands. It was great to hear them tell some funny stories about the old days, and hearing them talk about the days ahead.
I am preaching Sunday at CrossRoads, so I have been working this week on a sermon. It is coming along pretty well. I hope it is coherent. The youth group is having a lock-in at the church on Friday night. That should be lots of fun.
I hope everyone is doing well. Peace...
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