5 Million Kids

Pounding the Pavement

2011-08-13T21:12:00.000-06:00

This picture is funny, because the Shar pei is wearing a hat and
shoes... dogs don't wear hats or shoes. That's crazy. And
even if he did wear shoes, why would he just have them on his
back feet. This picture is silly.

I went running today. It was the first time in several months. You see, last week I caught a profile view of myself in the mirror, and what I saw was not pretty. When I look healthy, the scars on my stomach (from my younger days when I was in Tijuana fight club) look like a smiley face. If you have seen it, you will know it is uncanny. However, in my more recent bloated days, my stomach has resembled less of a smiley face, and more of that of a shar pei's face, lots of folds over the eyes and mouth.

So alas, it took me a week to psych myself up but am back pounding the pavement with my size 15, Adidas.

After about .5 miles I had to stop and walk. My whole body was hurting. Even my teeth. That is the kind of shape I am in right now. The moment I physically exert myself, my whole body fights it, including my teeth. I was eventually able to compromise with my body, by promising that I would feed it a parfait made with bacon, sour cream and cheese when it got me home. I didn't really eat that.. that's gross.

It is crazy to think a year ago I was getting ready to run the Ascent. Once I won the Ascent, I stopped running almost all together. I thought to myself, I want to run this again next year, but I did not have the resolve to train again for it. I took my chiseled form, and god like physique for granted. A year later, its like VH1's behind the music..."and one day, his dog didn't even recognize his bloated, washed up master... he had hit rock bottom".

Thus begins the comeback tour... there is some hidden motivation. I was recently speaking with an old friend. She suggested that we do a 5K to raise a bit more money for the adoption. Nothing is in the works yet, but if it is something you would be interested in participating in or helping out with, please let me know.

Will I Be That Parent?

2011-08-11T19:33:00.000-06:00

Will I be that parent that blames their child's teacher, because they got a C on the spelling test for spelling apple with a "8"?

Will, I be that parent that yells at the coach for not playing my son, even though he spends most of the game sticking his fingers in his shin guards and than smelling his hand?

Will I be that parent that refuses to admit that my child stole money from his friend's house, even when I am out to dinner at Ruth Chris Steak house, because that seven year old son of ours wanted to do something nice for us and take us out to dinner?

I worry that I will be that parent, in fact, I am almost certain that I will be that parent.

Why? You ask.

Well, the other day, my favorite dog, Lucy got into the bathroom trash and tore up and spread out feminine hygiene products all over the bathroom.

Did I get mad at her?

No, of course not.

No, instead, I got mad at my wife.

Why?

Because once a month she "has" to have need for feminine hygiene products, even though she knows this tempts Lucy to get in the trash.

I am a terrible person for these thoughts.... I understand this.

However, let it be known, that I will go to bat for my kids. Perhaps literally, because I will be the first to charge the mound when my child is hit by a wild pitch in little league, and I will not think twice about squaring up to that fourth grade pitcher.

Okay, that might be an exaggeration, but I will figuratively fight for our children.

I have been feeling like the blind hair dresser lately...

2011-08-07T14:05:00.000-06:00

Misty left me this morning. She'll be back on Wednesday. She is on a road trip to Seattle and flying back on Wednesday. I am a little at a loss for what to do with myself. It has only been five hours and I am already beginning to feel the affects of starvation creeping in. It is times like these when I realize how lost I am without her. I was able to find my toothbrush this morning, but what I thought to be tooth paste, was in fact Ben Gay. My teeth still feel very cold. I am thinking about sending the dogs out to live with a friend, they keep looking at me in hopes that I will feed them but I don't know where there food is. I used to look at the people that lined up for the soup kitchen and think 'there, but by the grace of God go I', now I know this was a misnomer... now I know the truth, 'there but by the grace of Misty, go I'. My clothes are already badly stained and smell of stale urine, yet they were clean just five hours ago. What will become of me. I have been trying to go outside and pan handle, but I cannot for the life of me find out where Misty keeps the markers and jagged scraps of cardboard.

Certainly, I can overcome this adversity. There have been countless others before me that have been able to rise above their situations. Take the lady who cut my hair yesterday for example. I am pretty sure she was legally blind. I bet she heard all her life "no one is going to get their hair cut by you, if they see you have a service dog", "how are you going to cut hair, if you have no depth perception". Well, she proved them all wrong. Not only did she cut my hair, she did a great job... cause I look damn good right now.... I may be exaggerating, but I am not making it up, she really did have some vision impairment. She had really thick glasses, glasses as thick as the bottom of a coke bottle. I thought eye glass technology had advanced a little bit in the last twenty years, so that they didn't need to make them that thick any more, but I guess that isn't the case.

I have been feeling like the blind hair dresser lately. We have $8000 raised and almost three times that left to go. It feels insurmountable at times. But than I am reminded of all of the people who have donated so far, and I cannot help but to have faith that we will get there. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday... hopefully in the next twelve months.

Me and Antoni

2011-08-04T20:03:00.001-06:00

I recently saw a program on the great Spanish architect Antoni Gaudi. His architecture was fun, innovative, and unlike any other before or after him. What stuck out the most to me was that his last project, his paramount, was a cathedral located in Barcelona called Sangrada Familia. What was so amazing was that he knew he would be long dead before the cathedral was finished. Gaudi died in 1926. 86 years later they are still working on it! It is estimated that the cathedral will still not be finished for another 10 to 20 years.

I bring all this up because I can relate to Gaudi. I guess there are a number of comparisons to be made. We are both innovative geniuses, not fully understood or fully appreciated in our own time. Our critics regard us as being baroque and excessively imaginative. And don't get me started on how the Noucentisme feel about our independent works. We also both have beards.

Of all these similarities, the one that I can most closely relate to, goes back to the Sangrada Familia, because lately I have been feeling like my list of home projects will not be finished until decades after my death. At this rate, I don't think I will be done grouting the tiles until at least 2050. And that is just the beginning of the list. Yes, I find solace thinking about my kindred spirit. I imagine him as he tried to enjoy his morning cup of coffee, while Mrs Guadi would badger... "when will you finish the columns?", "are you almost done with the nave?" "I thought the alter was going to be bigger" "will this be finished before my mother gets in town?", "how come the spires aren't finished yet?" "I should have married that Frank Wright, he could at least finish a building in his lifetime" "When are you going to finish grouting?" What Mrs Gaudi and Mrs. Berry don't understand is that genius, like a good souffle, take time. Sure a lesser craftsman could finish my projects in a couple weekends, but than the projects wouldn't share the art and soul that mine do.

All kidding aside, there is something so romantic about investing in something that will be around long after you are buried in the ground. Yes, this is where I am going to throw a soft pitch, and ask you to join my Amway team... just kidding. I hate Amway. But seriously, though I have never been to Barcelona, I have heard that you can hardly turn a corner without seeing some of Guadi's distinctive architecture. And better yet, to leave behind an unfinished work, like the Sangrada Familia, an edificethat people for centuries later, will stop and look at in awe.

This is why I believe so strongly in adoption. It is not just an investment in one orphaned kid. It is an investment in that child, and the generations that will follow him or her. We are given the opportunity to alter the path of an individuals life, to give them a fighting chance to leave their own mark on the world. We can't be saviors, but we can offer unconditional love, support and encouragement that will allow the children in our lives to be everything that they were uniquely created to be.

And lastly there is a little +1 icon at the bottom of this blog. I have no idea what it does, but I beg that you click on it. I firmly believe that by doing so, your children will less likely be bullied in their schools... and don't you want that for them? Don't you... just click it.

Why I married a Soviet prison camp guard...

2011-07-01T10:15:00.000-06:00

I generally don't put much stock in reincarnation, but lately I have had an itching suspicion that in previous life Misty was a Stalin era guard in a Soviet work camp. I think she was the guard that other guards were scared of. From sunrise to sunset I have been tasked with a multitude of "projects". When I propose a project (like a water slide that goes from our house to the stream below) they are promptly nixed. The other day I was caught putting extra bread (my dinner) in my socks (for later) and she put me in solitary for three days.

It has been said that hell has no fury like a woman scorned... I think they got that wrong. Hell has no fury like a nesting woman.

I kid, Misty, as always has been very sweet and genteel these last several months (four years for that matter). However, it is quite apparent she is nesting. It is quite cute and endearing. Already this summer season I have taken down a fence, tiled and grouted a floor*, disassembled and reassembled a closet, and built very shoddy planter boxes... very shoddy. Seriously these planter boxes are so shoddy (how shoddy are they?) They are so shoddy, I think if plants were planted in there, they would be the kind of plants that cooked meth and married their cousins.

Anywho, Misty has been nesting, and she makes a nice nest. I see it as an act of faith by her part, faith that we will be able to adopt and start our family. Which is ironic, because usually I am the optimistic one in our marriage. But her nesting is saying "we will have kids running around our home... and it better damn well be ready".

This is optimism I have had a hard time accepting lately. I look at what we have raised, in the context have how long we have been raising, and I think we have so much longer to go. I am tired of trying to be hopeful. I am discouraged and when I am discouraged I easily lose sight of the goal.

This is the beautiful think about marriage and one of the many reasons why I love my wife. When one of us in the depth of despair and can't see through it, the other can provide a picture of what can be. And that makes all the difference.

Alright, I have to go now. Misty will be home soon, and I haven't put a third coat of paint on the wall yet. She'll notice... and it won't be pretty.

A New Season

2011-06-14T22:13:00.000-06:00

People ask me a lot what I do at my new job.

Well, truth be told its pretty boring stuff... I save lives every day by providing oxygen in concentrated form to people desperately in need.

You know that feeling when you are short of breath and you can't get enough oxygen. Perhaps you have been held under water or even water boarded if at one time or another you have been suspected of terrorism. Either way, you know the relief that comes when you finally do get that precious oxygen, that your lungs crave. Well, I bring that relief day after day... well not exactly, but I manage the people that bring that relief. So does that make me a hero... yeah, I guess that kind of does make me a hero. But I don't want to brag... it's just a days work.

I have always thought it amusing, the cliched office workers hatred of a printer. However, now I spend ten hours a week fighting with an office printer/scanner and the other thirty hours plotting my revenge on the maker and designer of the Cannon MF6530. When I find that cannon mf designer I will ask them to do a simple task but make it exceedingly difficult, and make an obnoxious two toned error noise every time he/she gets it wrong.

All this aside, I love my new job, and I am really thankful for it. The people I work with are great, and we do provide comfort to the dying which all joking aside, is a real gift.

Misty too has started a new job. She is waiting tables at our favorite restaurant. It has been great to see her rested, for what almost seems like the first time in two years. She is no longer burning the candle at both ends, but instead she sleeps in (she works til 11 some nights), works on her photography, and is able to relax and not stress about work. It is a lovely thing.

On the adoption front, things are moving. It feels like the beginning of a new season of patience and waiting. We spent the last year actively asking and working to reach our goal. We made great strides to reach that goal. I ran up friggin mountain for petes sake. Now, we begin a new season. A season of expecting and of faith, that I have hope will be even more fruitful and bring us to the trail head.

Hooray for Hollywood

2011-04-25T10:59:00.001-06:00

Hooray for Hollywood - oddly Misty was embarrassed when I sang this on the Hollywood Strip.

I just got back from the city that never sleeps, L.A. What a city... what... a city. I must admit, I felt a bit like a county mouse when rubbing shoulders with all those industry big wigs. When I say industry, I am speaking of the garment industry- lots of textile production in L.A. and if you know people in that industry it is really easy to name drop in L.A.

Another smaller, lesser known industry in LA is the entertainment industry. Everywhere you go you see celebrities. Natlie Portman served me coffee at The Coffee Bean, she was there studying for a role where she will be a barista in a feature film. Christian Slater was my bathroom attendant... he was there, well because it was the only work he could get... hey ohhh. In a city of 10 million people, 9 million of which work in one of the two industries. In the Springs, I am kind of a big deal. I write a bog that is read by tens every day, not to mention, I am kind of a real up and comer in the liquid oxygen industry. But that means nothing in L.A., jack squat.

So alas, I found myself in public areas speaking on my cell phone loudly, even though no one was on the other end. I just wanted people to think that I was someone, so I would say things like "you listen to me Jack, you pull a stunt like that again and you'll never work in this town again..... yeah we can talk about it at the Lakers game.... Deniro's not going to be there is he, I don't want to have to listen to him right now." "Well you tell Spielberg I'm not going to placate to his ego, if he wants to direct it, its his, but I'm in charge. If he's not okay with that, well he'll never work in this town again." Or, "I don't care if he has to cancel his sons bar mitzvah, we're three weeks behind on production, he will be in tomorrow or he'll never work in this town again."

L.A. just has so much to offer. In the middle of the city they have the LaBrie tarpits, a tar pond, where tar just oozes up tar and methane. We also went to the Hollywood strip, and I just daydreamed about one day bringing our children there, so that they too could pose with the homeless people dressed up as super heroes. They even have a California Pizza Kitchen where they have pizza that instead of pizza sauce it's barbecue sauce. They call it a barbecue chicken pizza, only in L.A.... only in L.A.

It was a terrific trip. We met family members for the first time, reconnected with family that I have not seen in seven years and got to experience a sampling of L.A. However, what I am most excited about is, to one day bring our new family back there. For in the middle of L.A. is a little neighborhood called Little Ethiopia. It was really neat. This neighborhood was sprinkled with Ethiopian restaurants, shops and signs written in Amharric. A place where our kids, might be able to stay connected with their Ethiopian heritage.

Kids... they just don't understand.

2011-04-20T10:07:00.000-06:00

Yesterday I went looking to purchase a birthday present for a three year old. This was terribly difficult task. For a lot of people, they would just think back to what they were into when they were three years old. Me, I wasn't like normal three year olds. When other kids were learning their letters on Sesame Street, I was reading Russian Literature. My dad, tried to get me to read some of the Greek "classics", but I found them too, I don't know kitschy. When other kids were buidling towers out of cardboard blocks, I was building algorythms out of theoretical data sets.

So after three hours of comparing stuffed animals (that didn't look remotely like the real thing), I opted for a more practical present... a pocket knife. What three year old wouldn't want a pocket knife.

Misty says that children don't understand my sense of humor. I in turn think most children have a somewhat dull sense of humor. Why is that bonking yourself on the head repeatedly with a foam ball kills with most toddlers, yet subtle more ironic word play gets blank stares. The other night I was having dinner with Samansa, a two year old. She thought the funniest thing was when I would lift the front of my shirt over my face and hang it over my head. Ironically, friends in college thought this was really funny when I would do the same thing at a public urinal.

All this to say, I don't understand small children. Those first couple of months when we have children are going to be interesting to say the least.

A Little Piss in the Pot

2011-04-19T11:55:00.001-06:00

Have you ever noticed how the paint often peels on the hoods and roofs of Chevy and GMC vehicles from the mid 90's. I always notice it now, because I know why it happens.

Several years ago, while visiting a friend in Texas, I noticed this phenomenon happening to his vehicle. I asked him why it was happening (his car was only 5 years old at this point). He told me what his friend that worked in the automobile industry told him. Apparently their was some sort of dispute between the union and management. Diplomacy and discussion was getting them nowhere. Finally, when the union had, had enough, they decided to take action.

One by one they lined up the stairs to the enormous vats of paint compounds. And one by one they proceeded to urinate into the vats of paint. Their acts of defiance and joined effort would not be seen right away, but in time, the painted areas that experienced the most heat would eventually crack and flake away.

The point of this story, is not to speak for or against unions. What happened that fateful day was that a group of people felt like they weren't being heard. So banded together, they realized that though they did not have any control, they did have power.

We often feel as though the decisions we make can't really make a difference. We believe that the governments, corporations, and military leaders have power and cannot be changed. However, I am beginning to think otherwise. I am beginning to believe that a little piss in the pot can make all the difference. I believe calling your congressman when a vote comes up that you feel strongly about can make a difference, I believe supporting one.org and other humanitarian organizations can make a difference. I believe what you purchase can make a difference, for as the back of The Better World Shopping Guide says, "every dollar you spend is a vote for the world you want to live in". And lastly, I believe adopting or mentoring a child in poverty can make all the difference in the world.

And because I like to tug at heart strings when I can, here is a guilty pleasure of mine and an apt song for closing out today's blog.

“Never doubt that a small group of committed people can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.” -Margaret Mead

Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

2011-04-16T14:39:00.000-06:00

"Parting is such sweet sorrow" -Kevin Costner reading Shakespeare

Yesterday was my last day at work, and I must say I at first I was some what disappointed (not really). My plan all along, was to quit work and devote my time to being a stand in for Paul McDonald of American Idol fame. But wouldn't you know, as luck would have it, the night before my last day of work, Paul is voted of AI. Now if that is not bad enough, my last day of work I actually had to work. Who do they think I am, Lee Iacoca. It was my intent to roll in for my last day and drink mint juleps and bet on horse races... but nooooo. You're not allowed to gamble or drink at work... even on your last day.

Even still, it turned into a great last day. Several of my wonderful co-workers went out after work for dinner and drinks. It was the best way to end my time at Silver Key, an appropriate epilogue for you literary types. Togehter, employees from around the organization pooled some money together to put towards our adoption and gave it to Misty and I, with a card full of kind hand written notes. It truly was a sweet ending.

For the next 10 days, I will be unemployed. And do you think I am going to be allowed to wear sweat pants, and watch 24 all day.... noooo. Misty says there is stuff around the house for me to do. Give me a break. The dog poop will bio degrade (its green) and the pine needles will eventually blow away (from the pile I raked them in last week). She just doesn't understand how important 24 is to me.

I wish Jack Bauer were here now. He would know how to get out of house chores. He would also know how to get the raccoons that are illegally squatting in my shed out. If you know any one that wants a shed, its theirs. I am never going in there again. I went in there a couple days ago to look for something, only to almost step on a raccoon. It scared the bejesus out of me. I ran out of there as fast as I can and vowed to never go in there again. In a last ditch effort, I threw some moth balls in there because I had heard from a trusted source (another raccoon that was a snitch) that raccoons hate moth balls. I found this unusual because I love the smell of moth balls. I am far from convinced that it worked, so I decided, I don't care about the stuff in there. For one the raccoons probably pooped everywhere, for two raccoons are really mean. I peaked my head in today to see if they were still there, and I didn't see them, but I heard them. They were whispering... "we're going to get you Jamie" "you thought we didn't like moth balls didn't you... but we love moth balls... they're like an aphrodisiac for us... all our girls are pregnant now".

You see the kind of blogs you get when I don't have work to think about... really terrible stuff, pretty gross too.

It was a great week for adoption fund raising. Between the generous donation from my former employer, and a $1000 gift as well as two other donations, we received almost $1400 towards our adoption.

So again, thank you to everyone who has given so generously.

What I Want

2011-04-09T17:24:00.000-06:00

I have been watching a lot of the the TV show The Wire lately. In light of taking a new job this week, it has me thinking... I should have been a homicide detective. I think I would be really good at it. There are so many times when I am watching a movie, or a TV show, and I can guess what is going to happen.

Examples: Letters to Juliet... I knew that she was going to fall for the grandson of the lady that she was helping.
The Passion of the Christ... I kept on saying to the youth group kid sitting next to me, "I bet that guy betrays Jesus, I bet that guys betrays Jesus". Sure enough, he did.
Any M Night Shamamamlan movie (except The Sixth Sense).... Before the movie starts I say to myself, "this is going to be a terrible, terrible, terrible movie and I am going to be so mad at myself for watching it when it is through." And I am always right, except for The Last Airbender, I didn't get to see the ending, because the movie theater turned off the film twenty minutes into the showing because it was soooo terrible.

My point is, sure I might have been a terrific detective, and I would probably be the guy that all the other detectives gave their cold cases to, because I was that good. But fortunately for murderers and other low lifes, that was not in the cards for me.

You see, just as all the career placement tests I took in high school predicted, I am going to be a middle manager for durable medical equipment company, and I am thrilled and thankful for the opportunity. We weren't going to starve to death, if I didn't get this job, but it simply means we can meet our kids sooner and for this I am thankful.

I used to want a romantic job. Not as like a romance novelist (though I could have done that too), but a job where I could change the world. I had those jobs, but I was still left unfulfilled. Now, what I want more than anything, is the continued health of my wife, and to grow our family through adoption.

I quit

2011-04-07T19:29:00.001-06:00

I have recently decided to take a position with another company.   It was a difficult decision to make, but in the end, I realized that it was a no brainer. Though I liked where I worked, loved the people I worked with, and felt noble about the work we were doing, what I realized was that it did not bring me much real fulfilment. It was a job. And like what I have known all along, what really gives me life is the blog and sharing about adoption. So, what it comes down to is, I quit so I could blog more.    Just kidding, I quit, because a great opportunity landed in my lap and I felt I would be a fool not to take it. Though we will still need all of the help we can get in our adoption efforts, I believe this position will get us there sooner. So starting on the 26th of this month, I will be, like my idol Michael Scott, a branch manager. I only hope that I can lead, just like him.

In my last blog, I spoke about advocating for those with AIDS in sub Saharan Africa.  Our friend Clawdia (pseudonym) left a great comment, which was mainly a question of how do we shop responsibly, and how do we advocate for better health care for our global brothers and sisters living with AIDS.

So for the first question I would recommend a great book called the Better World Shopping Guide. You can purchase the book and find out which companies our doing right, and which companies are doing wrong at the website. http://www.betterworldshopper.org/

For the second question, I offer two resources. The first being one.org This is a tremendous movement, started by a little known indy rocker named Bono, of the band U2. What I love about one.org, is they are non partisan. They strive to garner advocates on both sides of the aisle, both democrats and republicans.  There website is a wealth of information, with plenty of action items.

Secondly, there is a great organization called AHOPE for Children. This is an organization that supports orphans that are HIV+ in Ethiopia.  They also have a great website at http://www.ahopeforchildren.org/index2.html

As far as our plans to adopt we still moving forward. There has been more discouraging news concerning the prospects of adopting from Ethiopia and we don't what the future will hold for us. We will continue to advocate for orphans irregardless.

I just got a letter from a friend in prison. He was devastated when he did not get parole, and would have to spend at least another six months before he would get his freedom. I thought about that, in light of the news that adoptions would take even longer to process. I can only imagine how saddened the orphans in Ethiopia  must be, as they to have to wait so much longer to be with their forever families.

was permissible

2011-03-29T21:00:00.000-06:00

I have been told that my writing is beautiful. It has pierced the hearts of tens of readers across the country. However, recently I have been reading Cry, the Beloved Country and realized, what beautiful writing really is. If you have not read this book, I strongly recommend it. It is amazing how well Alan Paton can put a few sentences together and describe a landscape, and a people. Here is a sampling from the first chapter.

The great red hills stand desolate, and the earth has torn away like flesh. The lightning flashes over them, the clouds pour down upon them, the dead streams come to life, full of the red blood of the earth. Down in the valleys women scratch the soil that is left and the maize hardly reaches the height of a man. They are valleys of old men and old women, of mothers and children. The men are away, the young men and the girls are away. The soil cannot keep them any more.

I read this, and then think about my last blog, and how my main idea was a "for profit vasectomy tent" located at the hippo exhibit at the zoo. This man could write so that you could feel it. As I am reading this book I have just gotten so swept up in the story and the characters and the beauty of it all. So it with all this being said; I introduce today's blog as a blatant rip off/ tribute to Cry, the Beloved Country. The story is based around the family members of two people, a murdered white civil rights activist who fought for the rights of "natives" (Africans) and his killer (a native). When the father of the activist is in his son's study, he comes across one of his son's pieces of writing. And it is this writing that I have ripped off, reworded and tried to make my own. If you own the book, it is located on the third page of chapter 20.

was permissible. It was permissible when we were born into wealth and were comforted by it. It is not permissible when we find that our dogs are overweight while 24000 children on the other side of the world died of malnourishment, or easily treated diseases. It was permissible when used that wealth to buy chocolate to comfort our hunger and our pain. It is not permissible to buy that chocolate when you know full well the only reason it is 99 cents is because there are an estimated 100,000 children in the cocoa fields. It was permissible to feel sorry for the millions dieing of AIDS in Africa, when AIDS first tore threw the continent like a plague. It is not permissible to sit idly, when you know that anti retro viral drugs exist, and allow a person with AIDS to die of old age. It is not permissible that pharmaceutical companies keep the prices of the most effective drugs high, for the sake of the almighty profit, when children watch their mothers die, and mothers watch their children suffer. It was permissible when mothers passed AIDS to their new born children, because the science and medicine did not exist to prevent transferring the virus. It is not permissible for this to happen now, when we have had the science and medicine in our own country for over a decade. We live in a world where our everyday actions affect the ability for our global neighbors to live freely and comfortably in other parts of the world. There is no reason to be insulated from this, other than personal comfort.

If this comes across as preachy, it shouldn't. My shit stinks too. Two of our three dogs are fat.

(Not our dog)

Does the hippo's wife yell?

2011-03-22T17:32:00.000-06:00

I recently revisited the place of my marriage, the Phoenix Zoo. It was a humorous visit, being that on our wedding day, it was a peaceful event, where we made our vows and declared our love for one another. This visit, was anything but peaceful. It was a snapshot and cold realization of what are life will be like when we have kids. It was the Friday of spring break, the busiest day of the year for the zoo. And yes, the first comment I made to Misty when we walked in was "this place is a zoo." I then repeated the joke forty eight times throughout the day.

We went with our friends and their children. Within a minute of getting inside the zoo, our friends daughter looked down in her stroller and proceeded to vomit everywhere. The terrible stench that came from this sweet child caused a Stand By Me, like string of vomiting throughout the zoo. In the Savnanah section the ostriches, gazelles and water buffaloes vomited which prompted the orangutans to vomit, which caused the bonobo monkeys to dry heave. Thankfully the vomit train stopped with the bonobos (they are known for their strong stomachs).

Crying was heard throughout the day, not just our friend's children, but every child that entered the zoo cried. At one point I looked around and every child I saw was crying, either because they wanted to see an animal, their ice cream fell, they were tired or most likely, I presume, they simply hated their parents and didn't not want them to have any enjoyment. The crying was at it highest towards the end of the day as parents tried in vain to make their way to the exit.

Every kid would scream "I want to see the (insert animal)".

And in response every parent would say "The (insert animal) is dead."

The zoo was the great equalizer, because the only thing that separated the children from the parents, was that the parents waited until they got into the car to cry.

It was here that a light bulb went off. What if they offered vasectomies at the zoo. Not for the animals, but for the distraught men. I have it all figured out. Put a vasectomy tent right by the hippos. Why the hippos, I'll tell you why. Because kids can't appreciate the hippo like men can and don't spend a lot of time looking at them covetously, like men do. There is a certain awesomeness to the hippo. You see, the hippo has really let himself go, he is so fat, but he doesn't care and no one nags him about it. He doesn't have to work, he can just sit in a pool of water and enjoy the hot sun all day long. Does the hippo's wife ever yell at him for going to bathroom in the pool... I don't think so.

And so, in conclusion, if you put the vasectomy tent right by the hippos, it will relax the men and they will forgot about how scary the surgery really is. This idea, is going to be bigger than microsoft. I will make millions.

Alright, I swear I had a point and a way to tie this into the world's orphan problem, but I seemed to have forgotten it.

How about this. Hippos live in East Africa, south of the Sahara on the Zambezi River. The Zambezi River is located in Zambia. Zambia, like every other country in sub Saharan Africa was devastated by AIDS. The following was take from Zambia Orphans of AIDS website.

Zambia is one of the African countries hardest hit by HIV/AIDS. About 19 percent of children under 18, or 1.1 million, are orphans, most of them due to the HIV/AIDS epidemic. About 70 percent of the population earns less than US$1 per day, so families, communities and schools are overstretched in their efforts to care for children. Many households are now headed by children as young as eleven who are forced to forego the education they need to prepare for a harsh economic environment as they struggle to care for their younger siblings.In response to this crisis, Zambia Orphans of AIDS (ZOA) was formed by concerned Zambians and now has members from across the world. It is registered in the United States of America, the United Kingdom and Zambia.The projects ZOA supports use the funds to develop income-generating activities, provide skills training, and tend to the nutritional, educational and medical needs of the children. In all, about 8000 orphans are reached and assisted through ZOA’s efforts.

You can visit this website http://www.zambiaorphans.org/ to find out how you can help.

Great News!

2011-03-21T12:00:00.005-06:00

Alright,

I know I said I would spend the next 40 days not talking about our adoption journey, but I also said that I would write 40 blogs in 40 days and I haven't done that either. (I am probably going to have write 30 blogs on the Saturday before Easter).

I just wanted to send out a couple very exciting bits of news. The first is great news to orphans all over Ethiopia, and the second is exciting news for us specifically.

First- this one is cut and pasted from American World Adoption Agency:

America World has received confirmation of significant personnel changes within MOWA. These changes have resulted in overall staff turnover and changes within the adoption unit. The unit is now called the Ministry of Women, Children and Youth Affairs (MOWCYA). We are hopeful that the new leadership will not only support processing an adequate number of favorable recommendation letters, but also continue to implement policies that will best serve the children of Ethiopia. Due to the staffing changes we anticipate much transition over the next few weeks until the staff are settled into their new positions. We have continued to receive optimistic feedback and have seen how the Ethiopian government is very committed to adoption.

The second: We just found out today that our church will receive donations for us. What this means to you, is that all donations will be tax deductible. Tax Deductible! So, if you would like to make a donation to our adoption fund this is what you do.

* Send donations to Church in the Wildwood, 10585 Pass Ave. Green Mountain Falls CO 80819. Any check sent to Wildwood should be mailed to Sunde King's attention with a brief explanation of where the check should be directed.

If you have any questions, you can contact Sunde King directly at sjking@bbdlegal.com

We are very thankful for this development and believe that it will greatly speed up our adoption process.

Roberto Clemente and orphans....

2011-03-15T18:25:00.001-06:00

As you probably know, I once had a promising future as a professional baseball player. I was one of the best pitchers in the league. Critics would say, that it was only because I was a 10 year old in a league of 8 year olds. But I have never been one to listen to the critics. Sure, there were rumors, rumors that I was doping, rumors that I was on a team with younger kids because I wasn't that good, or because I thought the protective cup went over the pants. However the truth was, I was in that league because of an irreversible glitch when I was registering.

So there I was, a 10 year old at the peak of my athletic career. I'm not going to lie, I was living the fast life. I guess you could say I was on a crash course for disaster. I remember there was one time I drank so much lemonade before a game that I threw up all over the dug out. Coach benched me for four games on account of that and told me that I need to clean up my act or kick rocks. I really believe coach saved my life. I knew what I had to do, the unfortunate thing was after my four game suspension , it was like every eight year old could hit my 45mph fast ball. So I begged and pleaded my parents to let me get Tommy John Surgery but they refused.

So alas, I did the only thing I could think to do. I ran away to Puerto Rico and got on a little league team in San Juan, with the intention to play the season and save up to pay for the Tommy John surgery myself. It was a good time in my life. I took the name Jamie (pronounced Himay) Baya. I was clean, I threw a couple no nos, and was making quite a name for myself in the Puerto Rican little league scene. Then, disaster struck. It was a couple weeks into the playoffs, when the San Juan paper did an investigative story on me. It was a real hack job and very unfortunate in how it went down. But they found out that I wasn't really Puerto Rican and made allegations that I wasn't really 8. I was promptly deported back to the U.S.

One thing I took away from my time in Puerto Rico was a great love for the Puerto Rican baseball legend Roberto Clemente. Clemente was the first Latin American baseball player to play professional baseball in the U.S. There have been a handful since. He played for the same team for 18 seasons. He had exactly 3000 hits. He was the first Latin American player to win a league MVP, World Series MVP, and be elected into the Hall of Fame But what is more impressive than these stats was what an incredible humanitarian he was.

He would always visit children in hospitals when he traveled to away games. When Nicaragua suffered a terrible earthquake, Clemente organized drives to collect health equipments, clothes and food for the Nicaraguan people. Sadly, it was brought to his attention that these goods were getting diverted at the airport and not to the people that needed them. So Clemente, being a man of action, thought if he were there at the Nicaraguan airport, he could make sure the goods got to the people. Unfortunately, the plane he was in crashed before it could get to Nicaragua, killing him and three other passengers.

Clemente has a quote that I love, because it speaks to simple humanity, he said

"'Any time you have an opportunity to make a difference in this world and you don't, then you are wasting your time on Earth.''

So true Roberto... tan cierto.

In the spirit of Roberto Clemente, I would like to offer information on a great organization that supports orphans in Nicaragua. Like myself, Tommy Weiglein, the Program Director at ORPHANetwork (pronounced Orphan Network... not Orphan etwork or Orpha network) is a tremendous dancer. He also has a tremendous heart for the orphans in Nicaragua.

What ORPHANetwork is doing, is bettering the lives of children living in orphanages all over Nicaragua. They are establishing standards of care for orphanages, and in doing so are bettering the lives of orphans and the workers in the orphanages. They also have a child sponsorship program that connects orphans with American families, this gives the orphan an advocate and some personal attention that is often missed when living in an orphanage. It also gives those living in the US some "buy in" to the orphan epidemic. What stands out about O-network to me is that they don't stop with orphan care. They have a transition program that helps the orphan as they age out of the orphanage.

I tip my cap to ORPHANetwork, and strongly encourage you to check out their website and give generously to them.

What does Bieber have to do with orphans...

2011-03-10T14:08:00.000-07:00

I used to think Justin Bieber was just another jerk in Hollywood that wouldn't answer my letters of request to collaborate on projects. Letter after letter I sent him, requesting him to do a house show to help us raise money. And he never got back to us. In my eyes he was no better then Chris Elliott. I have sent Chris dozens of letters, requesting to work with him. I am sure you have seen the movies when they do a flash back of a character, and the flashback character looks nothing like the original. What I proposed to Chris was that I could portray him in flashbacks. I mean I couldn't be him when he was kid, but I could be him twenty years ago.

Anyways, back to the Biebs. I heard via one of his fan pages that he donated his birthday last week to Charity: water. This is another great organization that provides clean drinking water to almost two million people. What is unique about this organization is that 100% of all money donated goes directly towards water projects. I have not heard of another organization that can make this promise.

Check out charitywater.org for a host of different ways you can raise money for this tremendous organization. Seriously, if the Biebs can do it, why can't you.

To ashes we will return...

2011-03-09T22:39:00.000-07:00

Things fall into perspective when you start off the day with a pastor looking you in the eyes, and in no uncertain terms tells you that you are going to die, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday you are going to rot in the ground and become nothing more than dust.

So as I sat somewhat sleepily in church today, coming to grips with my mortality, I day dreamed about my final exit. Would I die at the hands of Somali pirates, after saving a group of blind and deaf leper children. Or will I die anonymously... in a Turkish prison after I single handily bring down an army of neo Nazi, puppy eating, militants that have access to nuclear warheads. The point is, I don't know how I am going to go out.

Sure, the real point of Ash Wednesday is to start lent, a season of sacrifice and repentance. But the ashes are also a stark reminder of our mortality. With this reminder, I could not help but think about what is really important.

I am not a really morbid individual, however I think about a death allot. How can you not when you work for an agency that works with senior citizens. Every day I get phone calls from people telling me that so and so died and they would like to donate all of their old unwashed clothes and Readers Digests.

To die with grey hair is a luxury. I have said it before and I will say it again because it is a number that I think about all of the time.

26000. Roughly the population of the town I grew up in. Also, this is the number of children that died today of starvation and diseases that we in the west have been curing for the last fifty years. This is also the number of children that died yesterday, and will die tomorrow.

Compassion International is a tremendous organization. They have scored very well on Charity Navigator's website, a website that reports fiscal responsibility among nonprofits. Compassion's CEO, Wes Stafford is passionate about the organization's mission and has written a great book about his life and the impact that Compassion has world wide. Compassion has three programs. The first seeks to rescue pregnant mothers by neo natal care, as well as clean and safe deliveries. The second and most well known program is the Child Sponsership Program. This program, children are sponsored for $38 a month. The costs help cover education, nutrition and family support. The third program and probably least known is the Leadership Development Program. This program takes a select few young adults that have grown out of the Child Sponsorship Program and helps pay for their university schooling and living needs.

What is a Shrove

2011-03-08T13:07:00.000-07:00

I am a man of many many talents. I have the uncanny ability to count random objects, such as tooth picks when they fall on the ground. Just the other day, Misty dropped a bunch of tooth picks and with in seconds I was all like "four toothpicks... four toothpicks on the ground." And she was all like, "whatever". But later on in the day she counted them an there were four toothpicks on the ground! I am also very good at understanding the things dogs don't say. For example, just the other day our dogs were looking at me. So I asked them "Do you want to go for a walk" and they went nuts, they were so excited that I could read their mind. Once they settled down, I told them I would take them once they folded the laundry, knowing full well they wouldn't be able to fold the fitted sheets. I swear it is like I am Dr. Doolittle.

Other skills on my resume include but are not limited to putting the toilet seat down, almost all of the time, conversational French (if the conversation is with a toddler), conversational sign language, provocative dancing and a singing voice that makes Misty weak in the knees.

One thing I am not good at is public speaking... in fact I am terrible at it.

Case in point. Misty and I were invited to speak to our church last Sunday. Misty was terrific, she was put together, she was eloquent, and very informative. I was a mess. I started off good, I warmed em up with a joke. I told him how my dad once told me "If you want to ruin your carpet, get a dog. If you want to ruin your life... have kids..." I then proceeded to say that Misty and I have a strong desire to ruin our life. And from there it was down hill. Have you ever stood in front of a room full of people and had to stop talking because you can't keep yourself together. Well, that was me. As soon as I started talking about the orphan situation in Ethiopia I lost any composure I had. It was terrible and somewhat mortifying. Thankfully, Misty had composure where I had none, and was able to tie everything together. I was embarrassed though, I felt like a blubbering ninny in front of our church.

The Shrove

Tomorrow, as you know is Shrove Tuesday. I don't think I need to remind you how important the Shrove was to Jesus in his ministry. It is the precursor to Ash Wednesday which is the proverbial starting gate for Lent aka, the worst 40 days of the year. Every Lent, I try to take on a discipline and give up something I enjoy. Misty thinks I should give up coffee, however I don't think she really wants that. If I were to give up coffee, I think I would turn into a homicidal maniac... that likes coffee. I am thinking we will either give up sweets or movies.

The discipline I would like to do is offer 40 blogs over the course of lent. I hope that it will still be the quasi entertaining blog, however I don't want to talk about our adoption efforts during this time (you deserve a break from us). We will still be plugging away towards our goal of adoption but I feel the need to blog about the bigger picture. What I am thinking will be 40 Ways in 40 Days to Help The Orphans. So... stay tuned.

Ethiopia Cutting Adoptions By 90%

2011-03-04T17:12:00.001-07:00

Five million kids in Ethiopia were struck a blow today. In an effort to cut down on trafficking, Ethiopia will be cutting adoptions by up to 90%. At its peak, Ethiopia was processing 50 adoptions a day. They are estimating now that they will only be processing 5.

I am completely in favor of examining this system. I could not live with myself if I were to find out that the child we adopted was stolen or sold. Furthermore, I don't want to support an institution that allows this. However, I worry that they are throwing the baby out with the bathwater.

This really troubles us as perspective parents, however our feelings matter little when in perspective on what this means to the millions of legitimate orphans. It is devastating. How many kids will not be adopted because a few agencies were criminally irresponsible.

I have hope and faith that this will be resolved and that agencies will have due diligence, and those that don't will be swiftly closed.

Yes this sucks for many many parents in the process of adoption, but the big picture is how this affects the individual orphan. I was just sending an email before I received this news, to an old friend who is a program director at Orphan Network, an agency that focuses on orphan care (not adoption). I was telling him how I love what his organization did, because only a few kids will get adopted, but what about the rest in the orphanage.

Orphan network and agencies like it, offer support to these kids.

So in the midst of times like these, I think it is important to look at agencies like Orphan Network and Children's Hopechest, support them and encourage your faith community to support them. When there is a growing number of orphans and fewer and fewer kids free to be adopted, agencies like these are so important.

Worth Fighting For

2011-02-27T01:00:00.000-07:00

I had a pretty terrible dream last night. I dreamt that I was traveling with a toddler that went around shooting people. I was not complicit, but I witnessed his shooting sprees first hand, and tried to talk him out of it wherever we went. He didn't listen to me, and his mean streak only seemed to get worse. Talk about your terrible twos huh.

I didn't know what to make of it when I woke up. I was really disturbed, but also somewhat puzzled. Usually in my dreams, I am the life of the party, or I can jump really high and soar. Misty is also very friendly in my dreams. So when I have a dream about a gun toting toddler, I am certainly going to be taken aback.

So I thought about it all day long, and I finally tied the dream to a conversation we had earlier this week. It was with a gentleman who had a friend that recently adopted a child from Ethiopia. It was not one of those happy stories either. It sounded like she adopted a terror and when he said she wasn't sure if she would keep the child my heart broke.

So all week I have been convinced, that we we would be adopting the terror child. I have had visions of our child laughing as their school burned down to the ground. I then see all our friends with their angelic kids, and can't help but think how we will struggle to keep our marriage together when we have Rosemary's baby.

I have heard several stories like this. It is definitely not the norm, but those stories are out there. And quite frankly they scare the expletive out of me. I don't know how we would handle it. Adopting a kid isn't like buying a car (though the costs are comparable), you can't trade a child in for a better model. One that is not as "damaged".

I was not put in day care as a kid but one time. But you know, I remember that one time I was dropped off pretty vividly. I didn't cry or throw a tantrum, but I remember that anxious feeling as I tried to play with a toy, sitting on the brown shag carpet, in the brown wood paneled room. I remember that feeling of relief when my dad and uncle finally came back to pick me up. I could not imagine the feeling of being dropped off in that foreign place for good. I could not imagine being dropped off by my family member because they knew what I didn't, that I was not going to survive if I stayed.

Every day in Ethiopia, kids are dropped off by parents that love them too much to try to keep them. I cannot fathom that pain of having to make that decision. The pain of a dieing parent to let go of the one thing that keeps them wanting to live. The pain of abandonment that a child must feel, when they finally realize, no one is coming for me. I really don't know how any kid can ever recover from that.

So again, I remind myself. This is the right thing to do. We were never promised an easy, care free life. We aren't promised perfect and angelic kids. It is going to be hard but I truly believe the orphan and all the pain that they bring with them, is worth fighting for.

The World's Great Thirst

2011-02-23T19:59:00.002-07:00

I got an email from the admin assistant at our church today. She wanted our opinion on some good movies to play at our church movie night. If she only knew that 95% of the movies I saw last year were RomComs, the other 5% Misty picked, and they were mostly documentaries. In fact this very evening, while Misty is at her Spiritual Direction class, I am left to choose what I want to put in the DVD player. Will it be 24, the action drama where Jack Bauer saves the world and says "Chloe, I need you to hurry, we don't have much time" 1000 times an episode, or Couger Town. If you are not familiar with Couger Town, it is like Designing Women in 2011. It is awful, but whenever Misty puts it in, I am hooked. I have to pretend that I have a tickle in my throat and cough, because I don't want her to see me laughing.

So I made a list of movies that I thought might be good for the church to see and here it is...

1. Amazing Grace
2. How Stella Got Her Groove Back
3. Legally Blond 2 (I wanted to put this one at the front of the list, but thought the redemption plot was more evident in Amazing Grace.)
4. Valentine's Day
5. Black Gold

Okay, I really just want to tell you about Black Gold. It is a documentary about the coffee trade and Ethiopia. In full disclosure, I have not seen it, but it is number 2 on our queque. So as soon as we send Cougar Town disc 3 back, it shoud be on its way. I have included a trailer for the film below. Fair Trade is a BFD.

Did you know, that during colonial times, one of the most effective things that abolitionists did was to boycott sugar. They did this because the sugar industry was hugely dependent on slavery.

When we buy coffee that is not fair trade, we are communicating via our economic vote that we do not give a damn if slavery is alive and well today. I don't care if you don't buy our coffee, but there is no reason to not buy Fair Trade at the store, its not even that much more expensive any more.

So alas, I encourage you to watch the film. Go to netflix right now and put it in your queue, or go to http://www.blackgoldmovie.com/ the movie's website, buy it and share with your friends.

Lastly TAKE ACTION
1. Spread the word... share the blog, share the movie.
2. Think before you drink.
3. Change the trade rules. Contact your politician to make trade rules fair.
4. Join a campaign.

Here is one last thing for you tactile learners. Click the link below and try out the coffee calculator.

The World's Great Hunger

2011-02-21T12:21:00.000-07:00

Misty and I saw The Producers last week, and I thought to myself, why did I not go into musical theater.... I could have been a star. And than I remembed the time in Chorus at Henry James Middle School when Mr. Baginski had me sing in front of the class because he liked my falcetto...my voice cracked every six words.

And then we watched The Social Network, the movie about Facebook's founder, and I thought, why did I not go into internet development. I could have been him. I would have made billions. But then I realized, sometimes, I have trouble opening our laptop. I certainly could never develop a website.

So alas, I ended up in the human services field.
Several years ago I was meeting with a boss of mine. I was working for a ministry that worked with high school aged kids. He asked me why I wanted to do that. I gave him my best Christianese response... that I felt called to it.

His response suprised me, but I still remember it vividly, almost eight years later. He told me that people use the words "called to" all too frequently.  Christians use calling, like it is going out of style. A calling implies a lifetime of deliberate pursual to a mission.  As it turns out this was not really a calling, for now I have the desire to throat chop most high school kids I see.

I spent two years, trying to make it a calling, and than kicked rocks. Since than, I have done a host of other well meaning occupations, working with troubled teens, building homes for Habitat for Humanity and now working at a nonprofit that helps seniors live independently. All have had their plus sides, and I could speak in such a way that I could really endorse each agency and tout the value that it brought to the community. But at the end of the day, they were all just jobs.  Nothing that I would say, this is me, this is my life, this is what I live and breathe for.

However in this last year, I have found what I can live and breathe for, and surprisingly enough, it did not come in the way of a vocation like I thought it would, though perhaps someday it will. In this last year I have become obsessed with sharing with people about Ethiopia, the orphan crisis and why we want to adopt internationally. It has also been comical, for example, now my greatest fear is that I will impregnate Misty. I have actually thought of saving up for a vasectomy. Trust me, I know this sounds absurd.

To the hammer, everything looks like a nail (or tack, or brad, but never a screw), and to me lately it is as though everything I see, and every thought that slips into my mind relates to the orphan. I keep most of these thoughts to myself because I do not want to bore people or beat a dead horse, or tire my wife any more than I already have. I really think it might be the cause of most of my sleep issues, I just can't shut my mind off to it sometimes.  That and I sleep with three dogs, two of which have swollen prostates.

I say all of this, because of lately I have been feeling somewhat tired. Tired of the drugery of paying bills, tired of the never ending home repairs and ever ending money to do it. But then two things centered me. First, Misty said something so simple but true... "it's just money".   How true I thought that to be. I have had money and I haven't. Money doesn't make me happy. Misty does, our health does, but money never will.

The second was a quote that I saw in our old landlord's kitchen last night when we were babysitting...

"The place God calls you to is where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet."

-Frederick Buechner

My Encounters With a Talking Horse

2011-02-11T09:25:00.000-07:00

I am currently reading perhaps the best book you have never heard of. I normally do not read westerns, but I happened to stumble upon this one when my friend gave it to me. He knows that I am in the habit of collecting rare, sparsely read books by no name authors. Books by classic underground authors such as Steele, Blume, Pike and Christie. You've never heard of them, but if you throw their names around in literary circles in obscure coffee houses, you might get some credibility. The book that was given to me is a little novella (Italian for novel) called Lonesome Dove. If you have taken an advanced English Lit class, you would know this book is what is referred to as a Spaghetti Western.

Reading this book has been like taking a lope (cowboy talk) down memory lane. You see, back in the summer of aught aught, I too was a cowboy. I worked as a horse wrangler at a camp in North Carolina. I learned a lot of things that summer, how to break a horse, how to safely fall from a horse, and how to check a horse for polyps. One lesson learned, came in really handy just the other night.

Flashback sequence... It was another hot summers eve. We were all tired from working since sunrise. We had sick horse named Rosco. He was physically sick, not sick, like into weird stuff "sick", or really cool "sick". He was a shaggy horse, I had never before seen one like and haven't seen one since. He probably stood 5 hands tall. Rosco was the kind of horse that you could take out for good hard run, or just a stroll. He was pretty cool like that, I never asked him, but I bet he would have let me ride him bareback.

Well, like I said before. One day Rosco got sick. He was in obvious discomfort and was not himself on the daily rides. Normally he would point out oddities on the trail, or make passing comments about weather patterns, but he had become unusually quiet. The vet came and checked him out and put him on a strict anti biotic regimen. Well, Rosco hated to take pills. It would have been one thing if they were normal pills, but these were horse pills. The vet could understand this, because it is seldom that any horse can stomach a horse pill. So he gave Ole Roscoe injections to take every night and being that horses have hooves they could not possibly give themselves injections, the task was left to us.

Now if you have ever had to take medicine, or been a heroin junky, you know that it is imperative that you do not have any air bubbles in the syringe when you make the injection. I won't get too bogged down on the medical reasons for this, but what happens is when air gets into your blood stream it causes a chemical reaction where your blood actually freezes. Once it starts, it can't be stopped. That my friend is what a pulmonary embolism is. Any who, I had to shoot up Rosco. Well, Rosco didn't like needles, almost as much as he didn't like horse pills. So every night, we went through a whole song and dance. I had to say out loud everything that I was doing and than check everything twice. After we went through the checklist a second time, I would have to hold the syringe up to his eye so he could look at it himself.

However on the last night of his treatment something went horribly wrong. I filled up his syringe with 45cc's like I always did. We went through the check list twice, I showed him the syringe and than gave him a surprise sugar cube as a present for making it through the treatment. We had a good laugh, and I did what I always did to help distract him before I stabbed him with the needle, I asked him to describe his favorite Philly. He started to talk about Jim Thome's batting stance and didn't even stop once the needle pierced.

And than it happened. During the injection, the needle came apart from the syringe. There was a splash and his medicine was all over both of us. He looked at me and said very calmly "well JB Ole buddy, I think that is it. I think this ole bronc has had his last run in the grass. I want to tell you something, put your ear down low so you can hear me. I've lived a good life, I've gotten to do a lot of things most horses would never dream of.." He had in fact. And than what he did next was amazing. He got a little quieter and whispered into my ear truths about my future. At the time, I thought it was the pulmonary embolism that was making him say crazy things, so I just pretended to believe him. This went on for about fifteen minutes at which point he said now get closer, I was already about 6 inches from his mouth. Well, I got so close that I could feel his cold breath, and spittle on my ear when he said "this is for killing me" and he promptly bit my ear.

I jumped back with a shocked smile on my face, looked at him for two solid seconds and said "you bit me in the ephing ear".

He laughed, nodded and said matter of factly "I'm cold", and dropped dead. If I'm lying, I'm dying, the things that horse said to me on that warm summer's eve have come true to the t.

Fast forward ten and a half years. It is time for Misty's monthly injection of vitamin B. And wouldn't you know I just repeated the Rosco debacle while injecting Misty with Vitamin B. Misty is certain that I gave her a pulmonary embolism. So I tell her "you're not going to die."

She responds as she does when ever I make a factual statement "you don't know that."

And all that I could say was "actually I do" I rubbed my ear, and for a second I could feel Rosco's cold breath and spittle on my ear as he told me 'you will marry a Blu Berry and live happily together into your old age until one day, the two of you will die in each others' arms as you are ironically eaten by a pack of wild dogs that you attempt to bring in your home.

Sweet Sweet Water

2011-02-08T18:03:00.002-07:00

Again, all our faucets are dripping. In the other room, Misty is napping, and her nose too is dripping. She set the sound machine to "raining" to drown own the noise of dripping faucets in our bathroom. I worry that the constant dripping that we hear everywhere in our house is slowly making us crazy. Like a mother that wakes up several times a night to check to see if her baby is breathing, I too wake up several time to see if my pipes are dripping. The water runs and runs, we are wasting it by the gallons, just to save our pipes, and prospects of a costly plumbing bill.

I think it is funny. When our pipes are nearly frozen, everyone that comes within five feet of me hears about it. They will hear me say "Whoa is me, I could not take a hot shower today... why has God turned his face from me." One would get the impression that I subsist in the most wretched environment. But the truth is, I have access to clean water every day of my life. Sure, our pipes might freeze and I might have to forgo a hot shower now and then. But for me to even have that problem, what a expletive luxury.

Did you know
* Less than half of the people living in Africa have access to safe drinking water.
* Half of the world's hospitalizations are due to water related illnesses.
* The water and sanitation crisis claims more lives through disease than any war claims through guns.
* Diarrhea remains in the second leading cause of death among children under five globally. Nearly one in five child deaths – about 1.5 million each year – is due to diarrhea. It kills more young children than AIDS, malaria and measles combined.

* Every 20 seconds, a child dies from a water-related disease.
* Children in poor environments often carry 1,000 parasitic worms in their bodies at any time.
* Every year 1.4 million children die from water born diseases.

And to bring it back home, in Ethiopia (taken from water.org)

In rural Ethiopia, women and children walk up to six hours to collect water. Most people collect water from shallow, unprotected ponds which they share with animals. Other people collect water from shallow wells. Both of these sources are subject to contamination as rain water washes waste from surrounding areas into the source. The jugs women use to carry water back to the village weigh up to 40 pounds! Often, young children are left at home while their mother and older siblings collect water and their fathers work.

In the last 20 years, Ethiopia has experienced recurring droughts followed by food shortages and famines. During times of drought, water-related diseases are rampant. Surface water sources such as springs and ponds dry up. Remaining water sources are heavily contaminated by environmental waste, such as human and animal excreta, which is washed in when it does rain. The stagnant water serves as a breeding place for mosquitoes.

In times of drought, there is often not enough water available for people to bathe regularly. As a result, community members, especially children, suffer from scabies and eye infections. During these times, in an effort to conserve water, hand-washing after defecation or before eating is rarely practiced. Diarrheal and water-related diseases are among the principle causes of death in young children.

I hate to preach, but being that water has preoccupied me so much in the last week, writing this has given me some fresh perspective.

I hope you enjoy the slide show. And if I may recommend listening to it with Glen Hansard Pandora station in the background.