(Check out this post and more at www.palmerism.com)

What in the world is going on at THE Ohio State University these days? In particular, what’s up with the Buckeye football program?

Monday, Coach Jim Tressel, the quintessential poster child for wholesomeness and moral values among college football coaches, was found to be in violation of NCAA regulations. As it stands, he will be suspended the first two games of the season and fined $250,000 by the university.

Jim Tressel

Coach Tressel apparently failed to notify Ohio State of an email that he received in April 2010 that warned him of potential NCAA violations being broken by several of his star players. Days before Ohio State’s BCS Bowl game last year in December, we all learned that starting quarterback Terrelle Pryor and others had received tattoos in exchange for autographs and Buckeye merchandise. Big NCAA No-No.

 Tressel took a lot of grief at that time for letting the players participate in the bowl game, even though they had blatantly broken both NCAA and OSU rules. In some kind of Tresselian agreement, the players promised to return to Ohio State for their senior years in order to play in the bowl game. That whole ruckus alone cast the first stone of doubt at Jim Tressel’s character. Was he a win-at-all cost coach?

Apparently, he kinda sorta is. Why else then would he sit on an email that he had received that could possibly implicate his star players – before the season even started? Why, even when the NCAA investigation was taking place, did he not even allude that he had known about the possible infractions? Is it because bowl games are cash cows? Was Jim’s own self view of his reputation that elevated? Did he think that no one would ever find out?? Or, is this all just an honest mistake and misunderstanding?

Or, maybe Jim just forgot about the email? That’s it. He was too busy, and it just slipped his mind. Regarding a matter of this much importance, it’s difficult to believe that this may be the case. My guess is that Tressel had known about this whole mess since April 2010 and chose to turn a blind eye.  

So, what truly is going on at Ohio State? Some folks in the Buckeye Nation want Tressel gone. Sure, he may be a great man, a wonderful coach, and a proven mentor, but will he survive this latest round of his reputation and integrity being called into question? What else has he done (or not done) behind closed doors to wiggle around rules and regulations? At what lengths will he go to win?

Why didn’t Tressel act on the information that he received last April? Why don’t leaders always do the right and honest thing? Haven’t we all seen this story over and over and over before? Can a “good” reputation backfire on you?

Now Coach Tressel, always recognized for wearing a sweater vest on game days, will be marked by something else. A question mark.

Agree? Disagree? Snide Remarks?

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(Be sure to check out this post and more at my new site found at www.palmerism.com)

I was fortunate enough to attend a Winter Jam event in Mobile, AL a few weeks back. Primarily, I went to support my high school buddy Chris Sligh, enjoy a great variety of Christian music, and to relax with family and friends.

While I was there, Tony Nolan spoke to the crowd at a couple of different intervals. I had heard OF Tony Nolan, but I had never HEARD Tony Nolan. I discovered him to be dynamic, energetic, and passionate about his ministry. He offered his book Hurt Healer at a Winter Jam discount of only $10.00.  So me – being the eternal penny pincher – took my Alexander Hamilton to his kiosk and bought the book!

Hurt Healer by Tony Nolan

I just finished reading it today, so I thought that I’d write a quick review on it. The book came out last Fall, so by no means is this a “hot off the press” fresh review. It’s day old bread.  But, you can make a great sandwich still with day old bread!

Christianity sucks. That’s how Tony Nolan launches his book Hurt Healer from page one. He then takes us on a journey with those words still ringing in our minds. Why does so much of humanity view Christians and Christianity as propagators of nuisance and hate? Why does the world think that Christianity sucks?  Why, at an alarming rate, is America becoming a Christ less country?

The world hurts, plain and simple. People hurt. People are aching for help. And love. And encouragement. Yet Christians, in their calloused methodologies and myopic agendas, have done poorly in reaching down to those that need healing the most. They’ve rapidly glossed over the human needs, and carried out the most unfriendly assaults on broken hearts.

Nolan weaves the different narratives of his book around the story of the Good Samaritan in the book of Luke. He graphically paints the picture for us. A dying, bleeding, wounded man lay helpless and wrecked on a road. There were many that passed by the assaulted man, but none that helped. Instead, they chose to walk away, walk around, and pass over the dying man in order to accomplish their own agendas and not soil their own perceived reputations.

Thankfully, there was one man who stopped to help. The Good Samaritan. The Samaritan, a certain pariah in his own generation, ministered immediate healing to the dying man. He stooped low, forsook his own interests, and became a Hurt Healer.

Many pages of the book resonated deeply with me. Tony Nolan describes three types of Christians in life: The Fakers, The Takers, and the Difference Makers. He then challenges the reader to examine himself deeply to determine which type of Christian he really is. Are we truly difference makers in the lives of others?

Throughout the book, Nolan also harkens back to his own childhood, one wrecked and ruined by unfathomable abuse by his adoptive parents. He chronicles years of drug use, alcoholism, and self abuse while living in the ghettos of Jacksonville, FL. 

Your heart is genuinely warmed when Tony tells us of his own Hurt Healers that knocked on his door to tell him very simply that Jesus loved him.  Miraculously, Tony was saved spiritually and physically the downward spiral of his own hellish existence. Today, he speaks to thousands about challenging themselves to become Hurt Healers, and to reach out to a hurting and dying generation.

I enjoyed and appreciated Hurt Healer.  It’s a great book to read on the go, where you can pick it up and put it down in segments, without feeling lost or confused.  Tony’s personal testimony pierced my heart the most, reminding me over and over again of how blessed that I am, and how I personally have an obligation to do so much more to reach out to a truly despondent world.

Christianity doesn’t suck. Much like the dying man in the road that the Samaritan helped, there is a hurting and dying world that Christians HAVE to reach out and be the Hurt Healer to. Only then will the world truly know that we are Christians, and what it means to be part of the body of Christ.

Hurt Healer is a practical book and resource for any church leader, church planter, and Christian looking to emphatically challenge himself to “do more” for the cause of Christ. Personally, as I begin my Non Profit organization in 2011, Tony Nolan’s book Hurt Healer gives me charge and resonance to step out and challenge myself beyond what I think I can do – and in doing so, help to lift up a desperately hurting generation.

Review Rating: 4.0 / 5.0

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(Please check out this post and more at my new site: www.palmerism.com )

We all hate rules. We dislike most authority over us. Inherently, no one wants to be told what to do. This conflict of buckling against authority has a lifespan of … well, our entire lives. It begins when we are born, and the cycle expires when we die.

The sporting world seems at opinionated odds of the story of Brandon Davies, sophomore forward at Brigham Young University. As many of you know, he was dismissed from the team last week for a violation of the school’s code of conduct. His crime? He had sex with his girlfriend.

From the outside looking in, this story draws both chuckles as well as honest anger from the sports community. Huh? Why? What? For That? That’s

Brandon Davies

stupid. No Way. BYU Sucks. Let the kid live a little.

Ranges of people, especially members of the media and cyber blogosphere, are trying to make this situation into a rabid story about premarital sex and forced morality. They are focusing on the “crime” and trying to rope people into a debate about individual liberty and personal freedoms.  They’re missing the point however.

It’s all about the rules.

Like them or not, BYU has rules. When Brandon Davies made a willful decision to attend BYU, he agreed to abide by the rules and the university’s code of conduct. Going even a step further, he signed the school honor code which states that he would “live a chaste and virtuous life”.  No sex Brandon. Sorry, but YOU signed the deal, and YOU knew what you could or could not do.

Why then are people flanking to Davies’ defense? Supporters want to grab the pitchforks and torches and storm Salt Lake City.  To be honest, I really don’t get it. Brandon Davies didn’t have to, nor has to attend Brigham Young University. He can choose to attend a state college where premarital sex is encouraged, not banned.

The root of the problem goes back again to human nature and our quest to escape the rules governing us. In this case, the rules for Brandon weren’t even placed on him involuntarily. HE CHOSE to go to the school and abide by the rules. We all have to obey involuntary rules daily – the speed limit, paying taxes, and not letting our dog poop in neighbor’s yard.  If we choose to break those rules, we may have to pay the price. Those rules (and others) aren’t negotiable.  Attending BYU and abiding by their school rules are.

This story surrounding Brandon Davies isn’t about sports. It isn’t about sex. It surely isn’t about him being black at a predominately white university. It’s about the rules. Plain and simple.

Should he be given a second chance? Possibly.

Should the rules change? Maybe.

Should every student that attends BYU be held responsible to the rules that they agreed to live by? Absolutely.

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If you are a child of the 80's, don't deny that this song is super glued to every inch of your brain. I think I was brainwashed by this song because I'm still humming it 25 years later. Which, is what you'll probably doing all day today once you've heard this.

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Alas, it is raking season around the Palmer household and throughout my neighborhood here in Northwest Florida. Raking is – of course – one of my least favorite mandatory activities. But, as a father of three, raking is also delegate-able also. So yesterday it was my six year old son’s turn to rake. Usually if you create some type of a game out of chores, the kids don’t mind the work all that much. I told him that piranhas were in the piles of leaves, and that he shouldn’t jump in for fear of being skeletized. Of course he jumped right in and pretended to be eaten alive. He then asked me to hold the plastic lawn bag while he scooped up leaves and filled the bag. It was the least I could do in this annual installment of our raking drudgery. As he collected the leaves in a big dustpan, I started poking fun at his mad raking skills. “Man, you are a great leaf picker upper. Did you go to the Leaf Academy?” “You are a professional leave gatherer. Can you teach me? Did they teach you that at raking school?” You see, I’m fluent in sarcasm. The talent is both good and bad sometimes. Apparently, so is my 6 year old. Not three seconds after I was prodding him for his extraordinary leaf grabbing skills, he looked up at me and said “Did you go to Garbage Bag Holding Academy. Get it?? Huh?” Yeah, I get it smarty. Pretty funny. Now rake the yard, junior.

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I'm getting very close to launching another personal website, with the core content of it being more focused on my blog, continued writing, and more specific topics of conversation. I don't want to let the cat out of the bag quite yet because I still have to work out some of the bugs and overall feel of the site. Hopefully, the new site will really allow me to zone in on topics that I'd like to write on, and will open the doors for more rigourous discussions and learning. I'll still keep this Posterous up and open. I don't have a definitive direction yet on how I will operate the two sites simultaneously. If you are a subscriber to this blog, or even just a casual reader, please stay tuned for upcoming information on the new site. Exciting days ahead! God Bless.

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Where did you hear that?

If you have children, you have probably uttered that phrase a bunch of times. There used to be a show on T.V. called Kids Say The Darndest Things. Truth is, kids do.

Yesterday, I was sitting around with my six year old son. We were making small talk about school, the weather, and other boy stuff. We got around to girls. Usually, the conversations about girls are short and end abrubtly with "I don't like girls." And I'm cool with that at his stage in life. However, yesterday he was talking about a girl that he met and said she "was hot!" I half laughed and half slapped my forehead. HOT?!? I asked him where he had heard the phrase, and he was a little bit mum on the source. I don't think my wife and I use the description "hot" around the kids, and we limit what media they watch, so I'm SURE he heard it at school or on the playground. He then went on to describe what "hot" meant - a girl that is very beautiful.

Hey, at least the little man knows what he's talking about.

So, we chatted a little more about guy stuff, and I'm sure I warned him about hot girls. Good, bad, or indifferent - words stick to kids like glue. Most times, our kids are pretty smart and can decipher context and affect. Other times, they can be confused and led astray by the wrong words. Take the time to listen to your kids. Listen to what they say. Discuss what other people teach them to say. Guide them. Love them.

And, above all else - warn your boys to stay away from the hot girls. They're trouble.

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I’d like to think that I am a fairly entrenched member of the Twitter community. While I don’t have a zillion followers, I love my core audience, as I hope that they cherish me. If you are not on Twitter, you are missing out on a valuable resource for news, advice, and all sorts of other communication.

Here are Ten Twitter Rules that I try to abide by:

1.    I don’t follow everyone that follows me. Mainly because of spammers and people that – frankly – I’m not interested in following.

2.    Everyone I follow doesn’t necessarily follow me. It works in reverse. I’m cool with that.

3.    I probably won’t follow you long if you don’t engage me and chat, at least infrequently at best. That is, unless you are REALLY interesting.

4.    I won’t follow you long if you DM me with generic messages about your product or site. Or, if you tweet the exact same thing several times a day.

5.    I don’t argue much on Twitter.

6.    I hate personal back and forth, meaningless conversations between people hogging up my timeline. I’ve been guilty of this.

7.    It’s okay not to be totally hilarious every tweet. Especially if you aren’t a hilarious person.

8.    If you ReTweet me, don’t slice and dice up my original tweet so that it doesn't even resemble my original message.

9.    Go light on the abbreviations. LOL, BRB, TTYL, OMG, ROFL. They're annoying and over used.

10.  Be nice, not mean. At least the majority of the time.

Follow me on Twitter HERE

Happy Tweeting!

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I always love looking at this picture. A Cleveland Indians player lost control of his bat, and it went flying into the stands. Not one reaction or face is the same.

... especially the guy in the green shirt who wasn't paying attention.

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I am a self avowed sports fanatic. Guilty as charged.

My wife would say that I have an unreasonable addiction to sports – watching, playing, and fantasizing. Let’s not get too carried away, honey. There are worst vices in life.

I’ve never done this before, but I have decided to make a listing of the sports I like to watch on T.V. or in person, from most enjoyable to least enjoyable. I’ve categorized my passion for each sport with a scale of 100. 100 being the highest, and 0 being the lowest. Some sports I’ve combined into events (Sorry, I’m a little lazy).

I’ll leave this list as is – what I mean is that I won’t explain each sport or my reason for ranking it where it is - at least not in this post. I’d love to hear and will respond to your comments however: Agree? Disagree? Impartial?

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Heroes come in all shapes and sizes. Big and Small. Short and Tall.

Kids define their heroes by the smallest of tokens of greatness. In our adult minds, we take for granted what it means to be a hero to our kids.

My two boys are amazed that I can peel a tangerine in one quick peel. They just can’t figure out the dynamics of it all. As easy as the skill is to me, to them, I’m on par with Superman when it comes to peeling citrus.

Do you have an interesting skill that you can pass to a child? Remember, what is totally mundane to you may spark a creative moment in a child. There are thousands of heroic opportunities to discover each day with a child. Take advantage of as many as you can.

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By FAR, the greatest thing ever to come out of New Orleans.

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Yesterday, my two sisters, my daughter and I drove over to Mobile, AL to attend Winter Jam 2011.

Overall, it was time very well spent. We were able to meet up with my old pals Allen and Chris Sligh. We enjoyed some mediocre BBQ as we told old stories from days gone by.

As far as the show went, it was good to see the variety of acts perform - Chris Sligh, David Crowder, Newsboys, and others. My daughter especially loved the show, probably because it was her first ever live music experience. Tony Nolan delivered a set of inspiring and humorous moments of devotion that gave fuel to our true mission there as Christians.

Here are just a few pictures. I'll have quite a few more on Facebook in the upcoming days.

See the full gallery on Posterous

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Some people look for signs of warmer weather.

Some people look for sprouts of green in their front lawn.

Me?

The first sign of Spring is today - Pitchers and Catchers take the field for Spring Baseball!

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Popularity leads to murder. Okay, maybe just figuratively.

In my last two posts on Why I Hate Popularity, I dealt with the idol like worship of celebrities, many of which I think are pretty untalented. Then I mentioned the Name Dropper complex – some people live to “know” popular people. In advanced cases of Name Dropper Psychosis (NDP), people will become insta-friends with celebrities they haven’t even met. Popularity can spawn a narcissistic beast.

But back to the murder and mayhem. We live in a vicious world that loves to prop people up, make them popular and famous, and then murder them (again, figuratively murder them).  Take all of the golden children of our celebrity culture for example -  We’ll primp and polish movie stars and athletes, stick them in the microscope of examination 24/7, watch them, breath them, smell them, adore them.

Then, our culture lies in the shadows, waiting for their golden child to slip up. One false move. One bad mistake. The same pedestal of popularity creating madhouse that exalted that celebrity will tear that person down ten times as fast.

Take Tiger Woods for example. He was the face of machismo, Americana athleticism. Talented, funny, fearsome, competitive, and popular to unfathomable levels. He could do no wrong. He had Money. Contracts. Endorsements. In retrospect, he had his life in order – almost too perfectly it seemed. He was the darling of the sports world.

You know what happened.

I’m definitely not condoning any of Tiger’s sins, but the same popularity machine that built Tiger up to his gargantuan fame, tore him to pieces in humiliating fashion in front of the entire world. They took every ounce of his dignity and threw it to the wolves of the world. He was their golden child. He was Mr. Popular. He was adored. Now? He is a pariah, an outcast, a downtrodden human.  

The same story happens daily to different people from all walks of life. Sometimes success artificially drives popularity. Think of the lottery winners, drug addicts, politicians, rock stars, house mothers, and religious leaders – all of them that just wanted to be popular. They let themselves get built up. Then… they were murdered. Today, they have nothing, and they are a shell of what success that they could have been.

I just realized that my post is starting to sound terribly depressing, so I’ll stop here. I Hate Popularity. Hopefully, I never become rich and famous. Actually, I’d like to try being rich without being famous, if it is possible.

There’s really nothing inherently wrong with being popular. But be careful. Be who you were created to be.  Aim to find fulfillment within your own means and by your own hard work.

A quote that I read out of Steven Furtick’s book Sun Stand Still resonated with me greatly. It kind of fits here:

"Man cannot live by bread alone, and he certainly can't survive on a steady diet of attaboys. He who lives by the approval of others will die by the absence of the same."

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I've always liked Donald Trump. Long before he himself became an entertainer on T.V., I found it fascinating to hear about his road to riches, and his internal, raging inferno of competitiveness.

Good, bad, or indifferent - Donald Trump embodies the American Dream in so many unique ways.

So a few years back, when Rosie O'Donnell (who I detest greatly) decided to attack Trump when he helped out one of his pageant contestants going through some personal issues, the Donald fired back at Rosie. He left no doubt in anyone's mind on where he stood on O’Donnell.

I always enjoy watching this sound bite. It's so incredibly cruel, insensitive, and a straight verbal smack down. Trump very well may be the next POTUS after the next election in 2012.

Without debating his personal political stand on issues, what do you generally think about Donald Trump, his personality and his famous hair, as our next President?

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Describe this picture in THREE WORDS.

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In my main blog post yesterday, I addressed the human popularity contest conundrum. If you read it, I spent the majority of the post talking about Justin Bieber and his uncontested “popularity” among the world’s entertainment thirsty audience. Again, I just don’t understand all of the ruckus, or why people swoon and drool over any particular celebrity for that matter.

Hinging off of that discussion, it leads me to Part II of Why I Hate Popularity – The Name Dropper. You’ve met Captain Name Dropper. This person’s quest in life is to meet famous people. They’ll go to enormous lengths to get a picture or an autograph of someone that is celebrity status. Usually, that encounter with a famous celebrity somehow evolves into a fabricated friendship in the name dropper’s mind.

We’ve all heard the stories: “I was traveling through Dallas and stopped at a Denny’s at 3:00am. While I was there, I sat down next to Michael Jordan. We talked for…shoooot…like three hours probably. I gave him my cell phone.”

No, you didn’t give him your cell phone number.

Even if you did, you’re stupid. Michael Jordan will never call you.

Why must people find their popularity nirvana in the form of name dropping? Athletes, Celebrities, Movie Stars, and so on and so forth. Hopefully you aren’t one of the shallow humans that has to find self gratification in having met “famous” people. It’s delusional. Even if you follow them on Facebook or Twitter, guess what? You're not one of their true friends.

And again, don’t get me wrong. I enjoy meeting famous people, especially athletes. It’s good to have mementoes like photos from those encounters. Nobody likes a name dropper though. Even if you are friends with someone famous, no one wants to hear about it more than once. We get the point.

To me, popularity is narcissistic and contrived. Being a name dropper only adds to the vicious narcissism. If anything, we ought to name drop more of the real heroes and celebrities of our culture – our soldiers fighting in harm’s way… men and women discovering cures for cancer…

I should wrap this Popularity rant up tomorrow. Once again, all comments welcome. Someday, when and (a big) IF I’m totally famous, you can say that you met me. We're pretty much best friends, right!?

TBC …

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The T Bone can be a wonderful cut of meat when grilled properly. You've got the strip and then the small, delicious tenderloin. I'm thinking about putting some Grilling 101 instructions on my blog down the road. The process of grilling is almost as satisfying as the food itself. The picture is of an 18 oz. T Bone, grilled over charcoal and hickory. Amazing.

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I figured that the most energetic way to start this new week is with a little bit of a rant. Maybe it’s not really a rant, since I’m not mad about anything. I guess that it’s a little more of my opinion. I never quite understood why people have a undying thirst to be “popular”. In particular, why do they seek out some kind of pseudo relationship with someone that is popular or famous? Don’t get me wrong – it’s kind of cool to run into people of notoriety from time to time. It’s especially gratifying in real life to meet an artist, writer, athlete, politician, spiritual mentor that has impacted your life positively. That’s about where it ends for me though. I don’t understand this fawning, idol like worship of celebrities that  A) Will never know who you are  B) Could care less who you are  C) Will probably no longer be popular in 10 years anyway. Celebrity gossip and super market tabloidry makes me ill.  Surely, I can’t be the only one. Let me give you an example. Justin Bieber. Yes, the Apocalypse may very well be upon us now that I’ve mentioned Justin Beiber in a blog post. Where to begin though… For starters, I can’t watch any news station, listen to any radio station, surf the web, or buy diapers and mayonnaise without hearing about him or seeing his face. What do I see? An average teenage kid with a horrendous hair cut that hasn’t quite hit puberty. He sings pop songs about love and relationships. What’s the deal? The big deal is that Justin Bieber has become popular to gargantuan levels with the throngs of humanity for several years now apparently. I believe that Karl Marx wrote that Justin Bieber was going to be the opiate of the people. I’m starting to believe it. A few days ago, I put all preconceived notions aside and went online to give good ole’ Justin a chance.  I felt the weight of my blissful ignorance of pop culture taking a huge toll on me apparently. Granted, things were not as pre conceived for me because I think pop music is about as enjoyable to listen to as getting my hand slammed in a car door.  But I braced myself and typed in “Justin Bieber” in the YouTube search field. 450,000,000+ views for one of his songs. Huh? That’s like more hits than the entire population of America!  I couldn’t believe it. I must be missing something amazing, right?  Soooo, I gave the video a whirl. Surely, my one view tipped the scale of his sheer greatness, and now the Apocalypse is wiping her shoes at our door step. I made it about 60 seconds into the video until I wanted to murder something. Awful. I see an “artist” who A) Doesn’t write his own music B) Doesn’t play instruments C) Probably uses True Audio to bend his voice to form fit his music.   I simply don’t get it. Why the popularity? Why the craziness? 450 million views? People do realize that his Alvin and the Chipmunks voice will drop, and he may need to start familiarizing himself with Barry White soon?      This is part one of my take on entertainment and the everlasting thirst for popularity. Maybe it’s my jab at over consumerism. I’ll pick this up part two tomorrow or the next day.  In the meantime, all of your comments welcome. By the way, if you like Justin Bieber,  I can still be your friend. I’ll just stick to my music that generates 6,000 views on YouTube.  TBC …

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