<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMMRns8cCp7ImA9WhRUFk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059</id><updated>2012-01-26T17:28:07.578-06:00</updated><category term="Ethan Stinson" /><category term="Worship" /><category term="movies" /><category term="Family" /><category term="Video Games" /><category term="Christmas" /><category term="Music" /><category term="Myspace" /><category term="Blessed Be Your Name" /><category term="I'll Fly Away" /><category term="first" /><category term="Vacation" /><category term="Retirement" /><category term="Fester's Arms" /><category term="Sunday Setlist" /><category term="New House" /><category term="Language" /><category term="12 Days Of Christmas" /><category term="List" /><category term="Kids Say" /><category term="The Builder" /><category term="Marketing" /><category term="Gavin Stinson" /><category term="Work" /><category term="About Me" /><category term="Little League" /><category term="Star Wars" /><category term="The Office" /><category term="summary" /><category term="Humility" /><category term="Television" /><category term="Michael Scott Paper Company" /><category term="Temper" /><category term="Books" /><title>Tales from Street Road</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>266</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/blogspot/QNiP" /><feedburner:info uri="blogspot/qnip" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMMRnsyfyp7ImA9WhRUFk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-822410301296276695</id><published>2012-01-26T17:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T17:28:07.597-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-26T17:28:07.597-06:00</app:edited><title>Why The Beard?</title><content type="html">I haven't shaved since Dec 31st.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-BgSH7bek7Wg/TyHgHwqATxI/AAAAAAAAAd4/-WObS770P1E/s640/blogger-image--759999460.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-BgSH7bek7Wg/TyHgHwqATxI/AAAAAAAAAd4/-WObS770P1E/s640/blogger-image--759999460.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There's no real reason why. It's not "no shave January" or anything like that. I've just gotten up each day, considered shaving, and thought "Nah, not today."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Richard, the music assistant at church, told me last night that people were starting to ask him if I was growing a beard for our Easter musical. We're already working on the songs, but I haven't yet let anyone know what the musical will look like. Drama? Narrators? Video? The answer will be announced next week.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I will say, I am not growing a beard for our Easter musical.&lt;br /&gt;
But I told him to tell anyone that asked....&lt;br /&gt;
"Yes.&lt;br /&gt;
He is growing a beard for the musical.&lt;br /&gt;
He's gonna play Jesus."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Because we really haven't seen a good overweight portrayal of Jesus recently.&lt;br /&gt;
I'm mean Jesus was sinless, but is gluttony really a sin?...&lt;br /&gt;
Really?&lt;br /&gt;
....Oh.&lt;br /&gt;
Bummer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-822410301296276695?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nP3pDM51XVHQJ3bLAb945r4CFSQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nP3pDM51XVHQJ3bLAb945r4CFSQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nP3pDM51XVHQJ3bLAb945r4CFSQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nP3pDM51XVHQJ3bLAb945r4CFSQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/DfaZ8Owokd4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/822410301296276695/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2012/01/why-beard.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/822410301296276695?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/822410301296276695?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/DfaZ8Owokd4/why-beard.html" title="Why The Beard?" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-BgSH7bek7Wg/TyHgHwqATxI/AAAAAAAAAd4/-WObS770P1E/s72-c/blogger-image--759999460.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2012/01/why-beard.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUIHQnc9fip7ImA9WhRUEE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-3316285755152676278</id><published>2012-01-19T14:16:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T15:12:13.966-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-19T15:12:13.966-06:00</app:edited><title>I'm A Specialist In.....</title><content type="html">According to Klout.com, I'm a specialist in bacon.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yep. You read that right.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am influential on the topic of bacon.&lt;br /&gt;
I'm not sure exactly how it knows this, but I think it has something to do with how many people have commented on or retweeted something I've said online about glorious bacon. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Am I surprised by this? Not really. &lt;br /&gt;
But I do wish it had listed something different, like worship or marriage or parenting.  But instead, I am honored to be considered a bacon pro.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So going forward, if you have any bacon related questions just let me know. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Oh yeah, speaking of bacon....&lt;br /&gt;
I'm on a diet again.&lt;br /&gt;
Let's see if I can become a specialist on a topic a little less artery clogging. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-o0dkUZfywsE/Txh6Bf_RlII/AAAAAAAAAdw/TCNl0lakisA/s640/blogger-image--448423634.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-o0dkUZfywsE/Txh6Bf_RlII/AAAAAAAAAdw/TCNl0lakisA/s640/blogger-image--448423634.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-3316285755152676278?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dKA9r3GQV22Fu4pDkRvsC7EsKWI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dKA9r3GQV22Fu4pDkRvsC7EsKWI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dKA9r3GQV22Fu4pDkRvsC7EsKWI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dKA9r3GQV22Fu4pDkRvsC7EsKWI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/BBh9CIH-mGw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/3316285755152676278/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-specialist-in.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/3316285755152676278?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/3316285755152676278?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/BBh9CIH-mGw/i-specialist-in.html" title="I'm A Specialist In....." /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-o0dkUZfywsE/Txh6Bf_RlII/AAAAAAAAAdw/TCNl0lakisA/s72-c/blogger-image--448423634.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-specialist-in.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0cCQX05eyp7ImA9WhRVGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-466736498193956893</id><published>2012-01-18T15:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T15:11:00.323-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-18T15:11:00.323-06:00</app:edited><title>In Protest</title><content type="html">I am not blogging today.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My lack of a blog entry is in protest of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stop_Online_Piracy_Act"&gt;SOPA&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
So, there. No post today.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You can blame "the man".&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My reason for not blogging the past 60 something days?&lt;br /&gt;
Well...that remains a mystery. &lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-466736498193956893?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bKU0rJdqnJ2YWJj_i15iey6p3yU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bKU0rJdqnJ2YWJj_i15iey6p3yU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bKU0rJdqnJ2YWJj_i15iey6p3yU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bKU0rJdqnJ2YWJj_i15iey6p3yU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/jai6ERcSwnY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/466736498193956893/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2012/01/in-protest.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/466736498193956893?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/466736498193956893?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/jai6ERcSwnY/in-protest.html" title="In Protest" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2012/01/in-protest.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04MQ347cCp7ImA9WhRSFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-7917065084229970356</id><published>2011-11-18T13:23:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-18T14:59:42.008-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-18T14:59:42.008-06:00</app:edited><title>My Son, The Celebrity</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-vOFPV8Tru2A/Tsawv-dFppI/AAAAAAAAAdg/GlM1Mx8KsBg/s640/blogger-image--1225915077.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-vOFPV8Tru2A/Tsawv-dFppI/AAAAAAAAAdg/GlM1Mx8KsBg/s640/blogger-image--1225915077.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
This picture was in &lt;a href="http://www.mountaineagle.com/view/full_story/16478933/article-Curry-students-participate-in-world-record-attempt?instance=main_article"&gt;our local newspaper&lt;/a&gt; today.&lt;br /&gt;
It's cool to see my son get this media attention.&lt;br /&gt;
But I gotta admit...now I'm worried.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know how this goes.&lt;br /&gt;
We've all seen it before.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It begins with a little exposure to the public.Before you know it, he's dating a Kardashian and being harassed by TMZ. I pray that this celebrity status doesn't go to his head. But if it does...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ethan, your dear mother and I love you. We hope you'll remember us during your 15 minutes of fame. When the bright lights and big city are calling you, keep in mind these words: People are only out for themselves. Don't let anyone use or take advantage of you in any way. Also, please plug my blog every chance you get. I need more people to &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/talesfromstreetroad"&gt;like talesfromstreetroad on Facebook&lt;/a&gt;. But mostly, remember the thing about not letting people take advantage. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ok, seriously now.&lt;br /&gt;
I was surprised to see you in the paper today.&lt;br /&gt;
That's awesome and you're super cool.&lt;br /&gt;
Love you dude!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-7917065084229970356?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dNa45WlNFgd2fGa2eidmJm6pHug/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dNa45WlNFgd2fGa2eidmJm6pHug/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dNa45WlNFgd2fGa2eidmJm6pHug/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dNa45WlNFgd2fGa2eidmJm6pHug/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/EM7E9lz4Exc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/7917065084229970356/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/11/my-son-celebrity.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/7917065084229970356?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/7917065084229970356?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/EM7E9lz4Exc/my-son-celebrity.html" title="My Son, The Celebrity" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-vOFPV8Tru2A/Tsawv-dFppI/AAAAAAAAAdg/GlM1Mx8KsBg/s72-c/blogger-image--1225915077.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/11/my-son-celebrity.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0IAR3g9cCp7ImA9WhRSEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-5311358417448395861</id><published>2011-11-10T09:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-11T13:59:06.668-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-11T13:59:06.668-06:00</app:edited><title>Yo-Da-Lay-He-Who!</title><content type="html">If you've read my blog previously, you've probably noticed that I'm not really funny.&lt;br /&gt;
But I'm thankful that people around me are.&lt;br /&gt;
They give me something interesting to post for you fine folks to enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So for today's tale from Street Road I feel I must highlight my youngest son, Gavin.&lt;br /&gt;
He brought a little entertainment into my morning, not once, but 3 times.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1.) At 6:30, while eating breakfast, he said:&lt;br /&gt;
"Daddy you actually look even older with those glasses, cause old people wear glasses." I couldn't help but laugh, then immediately posted my sons bash on me onto the Twitter. I like that he can sound so sweet and put someone down at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2.) At 7:10, while getting into my car for me to take him to my mother in law's house, he paused before climbing all the way in and said "Daddy, your car smells like cheese sticks.". I just laughed on the outside, but on the inside I was thinking "No son. That's cheeseburgers."&lt;br /&gt;
(Side bar: Since she is the mother of The Lovely Kristi, I just considered calling my mother in law "The Lovely Mother in Law" but that just didn't seem appropriate. Your thoughts?) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3.) At 7:15, after we fed the dogs, Gavin told me he needed to warm up his voice for the day and began doing this....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/aFgEEi5E8R8" width="480"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So of course I made him do it again for the camera. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So within 45 minutes, Gavin made me laugh at least 3 memorable times. I gotta admit, it made me wish I could have hung out with this cool kid even longer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-5311358417448395861?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yyq-0Lwc1F0125BRua7s7rXpLnE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yyq-0Lwc1F0125BRua7s7rXpLnE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yyq-0Lwc1F0125BRua7s7rXpLnE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yyq-0Lwc1F0125BRua7s7rXpLnE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/iP-Ien8Z-dw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/5311358417448395861/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/11/yo-da-lay-he-who.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/5311358417448395861?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/5311358417448395861?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/iP-Ien8Z-dw/yo-da-lay-he-who.html" title="Yo-Da-Lay-He-Who!" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/aFgEEi5E8R8/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/11/yo-da-lay-he-who.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak4AQHw9eip7ImA9WhRTGEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-3124298946704191537</id><published>2011-11-09T13:53:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-09T14:02:21.262-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-09T14:02:21.262-06:00</app:edited><title>Deep Thoughts On A Wednesday Afternoon</title><content type="html">I saw this posted on the Twitter a few minutes ago...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"The way I lead worship doesn't really lead ME in worship. I love &amp; believe in how I lead, but I'm led in very different ways." @worshipVJ&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's got me thinking about how I lead worship.&lt;br /&gt;
How am I led in worship?&lt;br /&gt;
Why do I lead the way I do?&lt;br /&gt;
How do the two differ?&lt;br /&gt;
Why haven't I thought about these questions on my own much before now?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't really have any answers right now. But I have a feeling these questions will be on my mind for a while.  Who knew such a simple tweet could have me thinking such deep thoughts in a booth at Zaxby's on a Wednesday afternoon. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
By the way, you can follow &lt;br /&gt;
me on the Twitter @cshawnstinson.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-llPjUIzKuzU/TrraMtw5XwI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/7nUuQkxz5yo/s640/blogger-image--1530737623.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-llPjUIzKuzU/TrraMtw5XwI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/7nUuQkxz5yo/s640/blogger-image--1530737623.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-3124298946704191537?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GuNu89AfYDDNQ6420oYuvAXtwtQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GuNu89AfYDDNQ6420oYuvAXtwtQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/Bcrh5Kj7MFw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/3124298946704191537/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/11/deep-thoughts-on-wednesday-afternoon.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/3124298946704191537?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/3124298946704191537?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/Bcrh5Kj7MFw/deep-thoughts-on-wednesday-afternoon.html" title="Deep Thoughts On A Wednesday Afternoon" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-llPjUIzKuzU/TrraMtw5XwI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/7nUuQkxz5yo/s72-c/blogger-image--1530737623.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/11/deep-thoughts-on-wednesday-afternoon.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUDQ3k4fCp7ImA9WhRTE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-7649342721328257348</id><published>2011-11-03T14:57:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-03T14:57:52.734-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-03T14:57:52.734-05:00</app:edited><title>Was Blind But Now I See</title><content type="html">Well, maybe not blind.&lt;br /&gt;
But I did notice, back in the spring, that I was having to squint more often to read small print. So after putting it off for too long, I went to an eye Dr.&lt;br /&gt;
I fully expected him to test me then laugh and say "Why'd you come here? Your vision is totally normal." But instead his reply was "Wow, why didn't you come in sooner." I was not a happy camper. I was diagnosed with astigmatism in one eye and what I think is called "bad eyesight" in the other. It's actually near sighted or farsighted, but I don't remember which or know the difference in such things.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well, that all happened in June. I put off actually getting the glasses until a couple weeks ago. I finally got them on Monday. To my surprise they actually work. They're not life changing. I can still see without them. But it's like watching standard TV then TV in high def. One is clearly better than the other, but not required. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have made one little mistake since getting them though. When I first wore them in front of The Lovely Kristi, I said "I could see you before, but now I can see the pores in your face." When I told this story to a coworker later, he said "Pores in your face?! You didn't say 'I can now see how beautiful your eyes really are.' ?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Nope.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sadly, I went with the pores. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They have a cure to help with my eye problems. They're called glasses. Hopefully someone will come up with something to help with my mouth. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Side note: My pores comment was based solely on the magnification power of my new glasses. The Lovely Kristi has beautiful, average (if not smaller than average) size pores.&lt;div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0Y1TcA4smAI/TrLyKZm3lJI/AAAAAAAAAdI/5e-Mzf3o7-E/s640/blogger-image-1392485241.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0Y1TcA4smAI/TrLyKZm3lJI/AAAAAAAAAdI/5e-Mzf3o7-E/s640/blogger-image-1392485241.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-7649342721328257348?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sUo8OiBdsprKI-Ryhat6-EI-MgI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sUo8OiBdsprKI-Ryhat6-EI-MgI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sUo8OiBdsprKI-Ryhat6-EI-MgI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sUo8OiBdsprKI-Ryhat6-EI-MgI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/ceoOTlwNnNc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/7649342721328257348/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/11/was-blind-but-now-i-see.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/7649342721328257348?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/7649342721328257348?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/ceoOTlwNnNc/was-blind-but-now-i-see.html" title="Was Blind But Now I See" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0Y1TcA4smAI/TrLyKZm3lJI/AAAAAAAAAdI/5e-Mzf3o7-E/s72-c/blogger-image-1392485241.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/11/was-blind-but-now-i-see.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUICSHgyfCp7ImA9WhdUFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-3081271159322337271</id><published>2011-09-29T18:16:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-30T13:32:49.694-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-30T13:32:49.694-05:00</app:edited><title>3 Reasons I May Lose My Man Card</title><content type="html">Sorry guys.&lt;br /&gt;
Based on my actions of the past few days, I may be required to turn in my membership card to the "man" club. I hate to admit these things, but the bible says we should confess our sins to one another. So with a humble heart, I submit these and am willing to endure the repercussions.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1) I recently started checking out a website/app called &lt;a href="http://getglue.com/cshawnstinson"&gt;Get Glue&lt;/a&gt;. Basically you "check in" and log what you're watching, reading, listening to, etc. Through it you can get discounts and coupons and free stickers once a month. I don't care about stickers. But the coupons and discounts, I'm a fan of..&lt;br /&gt;
I guess my first confession is that I watch Glee. I'd rather call it "The Sue Sylvester Show". But some of the singing ain't bad either. But worse than watching Glee,  I "checked in" that I watched Glee. The pic below shows what posted on Twitter and Facebook without me knowing. So, I encourage everyone to be careful what you allow apps to post about you. Am I unicorn? Hmm?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-2yQ5DM3eYRk/ToT8YmMDBVI/AAAAAAAAAcw/vNayJTa4fSA/s640/blogger-image--146140225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-2yQ5DM3eYRk/ToT8YmMDBVI/AAAAAAAAAcw/vNayJTa4fSA/s320/blogger-image--146140225.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2) I have a bunch of songs on my iPhone.&lt;br /&gt;
4,278 to be exact. Most are from CD's I own. But a few I got because someone loaded them onto the network at church and somehow they transferred into my iTunes file.&lt;br /&gt;
Today, while at work listening to songs in shuffle mode, a song by the Jonas Brothers came on. My first concern was why was a Jones Bros song on my iPhone? So that is my confession. I have a Jonas Brothers song on my iPhone. It's not there on purpose, but it is there. &lt;br /&gt;
But one even more interesting questions is why did iTunes pic the below pic as the album cover?!?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-43JD3W1OKD8/ToT8ZU9f-RI/AAAAAAAAAc4/Bpx7gr91Ohg/s640/blogger-image-694360348.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-43JD3W1OKD8/ToT8ZU9f-RI/AAAAAAAAAc4/Bpx7gr91Ohg/s640/blogger-image-694360348.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
On a related note..."Umm Bop" by Hanson is on my playlist on purpose. (Wow the confessions are really flowing now.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3) I recently went into Hobby Lobby, by myself, and bought supplies for embroidering. I've only felt less masculine when I've gone into Walmart to buy feminine products for my wife.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-tQy9I77MIi8/ToT8ZLkViVI/AAAAAAAAAc0/_rq5OJWMkWE/s640/blogger-image--1625250714.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-tQy9I77MIi8/ToT8ZLkViVI/AAAAAAAAAc0/_rq5OJWMkWE/s320/blogger-image--1625250714.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I know these are pretty rough offenses against my manliness.&lt;br /&gt;
All I have to offer to make up for it is a little advice:&lt;br /&gt;
Guys, if you're ever having to buy feminine products, be sure to add other items. Even if you don't need anything else, grab something, anything. My "go to" items are magazines and gum. Because nothing says "I am a real man" to a cashier more than a guy who has clearly bought items as if he's going home to chew gum, read, and menstruate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-3081271159322337271?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/epcOLfiF4WxaXkvHFVDTmsNBfP0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/epcOLfiF4WxaXkvHFVDTmsNBfP0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/epcOLfiF4WxaXkvHFVDTmsNBfP0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/epcOLfiF4WxaXkvHFVDTmsNBfP0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/gwmrebTvifg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/3081271159322337271/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/09/3-reasons-i-may-lose-my-man-card.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/3081271159322337271?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/3081271159322337271?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/gwmrebTvifg/3-reasons-i-may-lose-my-man-card.html" title="3 Reasons I May Lose My Man Card" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-2yQ5DM3eYRk/ToT8YmMDBVI/AAAAAAAAAcw/vNayJTa4fSA/s72-c/blogger-image--146140225.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/09/3-reasons-i-may-lose-my-man-card.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcBQXk8cSp7ImA9WhdWFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-1695587921656856743</id><published>2011-09-08T14:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T14:27:30.779-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-08T14:27:30.779-05:00</app:edited><title>Testing The Blogger App</title><content type="html">Today Google announced the new iPhone app for Blogger. So I had to try it.&lt;br /&gt;
I'm on my lunch break, sitting in a fast-food parking lot with the windows rolled down, (Thank you, Lord, for this glorious weather.) writing this blog entry on my phone. There's been plenty of ways to do this before, but I'm hoping this app will reduce some of the problems I've had with those other ways.&lt;br /&gt;
So today I don't have much to say. Just testing out this new app. Just so you have something to see, here's a couple pics of my cool kids from our recent trip to the gulf. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What apps are you loving right now?&lt;div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-G3qbJRjZtog/TmkTKucb9QI/AAAAAAAAAco/il_iWVYknc4/s640/blogger-image--1372040550.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-G3qbJRjZtog/TmkTKucb9QI/AAAAAAAAAco/il_iWVYknc4/s640/blogger-image--1372040550.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-sclcABQuIgE/TmkTLRkLTYI/AAAAAAAAAcs/xL1svdzH0XY/s640/blogger-image--665172878.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-sclcABQuIgE/TmkTLRkLTYI/AAAAAAAAAcs/xL1svdzH0XY/s640/blogger-image--665172878.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-1695587921656856743?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JgXrj36miDg-88NwO05wBGjXhX0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JgXrj36miDg-88NwO05wBGjXhX0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/r3F8wrZ3Ff0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/1695587921656856743/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/09/testing-blogger-app.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/1695587921656856743?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/1695587921656856743?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/r3F8wrZ3Ff0/testing-blogger-app.html" title="Testing The Blogger App" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-G3qbJRjZtog/TmkTKucb9QI/AAAAAAAAAco/il_iWVYknc4/s72-c/blogger-image--1372040550.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><georss:featurename>Fultondale Fultondale</georss:featurename><georss:point>33.608848 -86.793727</georss:point><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/09/testing-blogger-app.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04HRns-fSp7ImA9WhdRFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-4958635912714542197</id><published>2011-08-04T22:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-04T22:45:37.555-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-04T22:45:37.555-05:00</app:edited><title>The Adventures of "That Guy" - Days 4, 5 &amp; 6</title><content type="html">Today is Thursday August 4th.&lt;br /&gt;
I am just now sitting to blog about my 4th day of vacation which actually was 11 days ago.&lt;br /&gt;
I guess this series has gone on long enough, so today I am finally wrapping up these tales by combining some of the highlights of our last few days...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
﻿ &lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Vy-lcvB15DE/TjtjlexYkAI/AAAAAAAAAcc/TB-kQcKGO-c/s1600/1-shipwrect-island-waterpark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="190" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Vy-lcvB15DE/TjtjlexYkAI/AAAAAAAAAcc/TB-kQcKGO-c/s200/1-shipwrect-island-waterpark.jpg" t$="true" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Not us. Just an image borrowed from Google.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
﻿ 1.) The Boat (first attempt)&lt;br /&gt;
Day 4 we went to Shipwreck Island water park (in spite of my tailbone injury.)&lt;br /&gt;
If you've never been to a water park, just imagine an amusement park with a lot more sunscreen and a lot less clothing. Our day started in line for a boat ride. The basic idea is that you walk up a bunch of stairs, then get in a big&amp;nbsp;inflatable boat with up to 3 friends and ride together down a waterslide while laughing all the way.&amp;nbsp; At first, both boys were excited about riding, but then as we got higher up the stairs, Gavin decided he wasn't interested anymore. Unfortunately, he backed out and Kristi had to take him&amp;nbsp; back down in tears. Poor guy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2.) Name Tags&lt;br /&gt;
After that, Ethan and I rode down and then tried to find Kristi and Gavin again.&lt;br /&gt;
While we were looking for them, I heard a very memorable speech from a father to&amp;nbsp;his 4yr old daughter.&lt;br /&gt;
Apparently she had gotten out of his sight and he very loudly gave her this speech....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;"Do you know what a pedophile looks like?!? Well, neither do I!&amp;nbsp;Pedohiles don't wear name tags!!!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Did&amp;nbsp;I mention she's 4?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;"That fence is not very high! It's the perfect height for someone to jump over, grab you up,&amp;nbsp;jump back over, and throw you in a trunk so I'll never see you again!!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
At this point I heard this little girl say something that sounded like "squeak, squeak, squeak." That's what little crying girls sound like sometimes. I'm not sure exactly what she said but her dad responded even louder than before with..."&lt;strong&gt;I don't care if you were with your cousin Madison right over there!! I didn't know where you were and I'm the one that matters!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
At this point I'd heard enough and walked off imagining the trouble that this little girl is going to get into in her teens as she rebels from anything her father wants her to do.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3.) A little freaked out&lt;br /&gt;
We finally found Kristi and Gavin and our splashing and sliding continued all day. At another point we got separated again and while we were apart Gavin decided he was ready to ride that boat ride he'd attempted earlier in the day. So Kristi and Gavin rode and he loved it. When I saw him again he was so excited. He wanted me to ride it with him. We began the climb up the stairs talking and laughing. As we got closer to the top, he got quiet. He was looking down towards the ground. Apparently, Gavin is afraid of heights. That's why he'd backed out the first time.&amp;nbsp;He looked up at me and with that&amp;nbsp;sweet little voice said "Daddy, this is where I get a wittle fweaked out." I had a sudden urge to laugh at that phrase and to take care of my son.&amp;nbsp;I picked him up quickly and pointed his attention to the top of the stairs and how close we were to riding. Once his focus was shifted, he was fine. But I'll never forget him saying that phrase to me.&lt;br /&gt;
It was a great day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4.) And...&lt;br /&gt;
As with any trip, there is a phrase that managed to creep up over and over and brought laughs almost every time. Our running joke this trip was the word "And". Apparently "And" is a perfect way to start the song&amp;nbsp; "O Holy Night".&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You see, repeatedly, my sons wanted to hear the song "O Holy Night." They recently discovered Eric Cartman's version from South Park on my iPhone. I'm not sure where I got this MP3 from, but I have to admit, I make sure to play it at least once every Christmas just for a laugh. We listened to it so much, all I have to do now is say "And..." in my best Cartman voice and the boys will jump in with their best impression of Cartman singing. I know this isn't the best thing in the world to expose my boys to. (I make sure to edit out the inappropriate word towards the end.) but you gotta admit, this is pretty funny.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Parents may want to mute at the 1:46 mark for 2 seconds. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/_ccTnKZWKQw?rel=0" width="425"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Our trip was full of fun and laughs. These have been just a few of our fun stories. There's no way you've enjoyed them as much as we did.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aUdu5C1fb2Q/TjtgzZxfVkI/AAAAAAAAAcY/-ZSiwvnDKlM/s1600/IMG_0041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aUdu5C1fb2Q/TjtgzZxfVkI/AAAAAAAAAcY/-ZSiwvnDKlM/s400/IMG_0041.JPG" t$="true" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-4958635912714542197?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CIkBEVGFQIH7JP14eYd69BF-Ngg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CIkBEVGFQIH7JP14eYd69BF-Ngg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/tW4BvyxRdgA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/4958635912714542197/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/08/adventures-of-that-guy-days-4-5-6.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/4958635912714542197?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/4958635912714542197?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/tW4BvyxRdgA/adventures-of-that-guy-days-4-5-6.html" title="The Adventures of &quot;That Guy&quot; - Days 4, 5 &amp; 6" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Vy-lcvB15DE/TjtjlexYkAI/AAAAAAAAAcc/TB-kQcKGO-c/s72-c/1-shipwrect-island-waterpark.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/08/adventures-of-that-guy-days-4-5-6.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEMQ3k4fip7ImA9WhdSGUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-4173310463297152841</id><published>2011-07-28T23:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-28T23:11:22.736-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-28T23:11:22.736-05:00</app:edited><title>The Adventures of "That Guy" - Day 3</title><content type="html">Ok, I know. Day 3 of my vacation was 5 days ago.&lt;br /&gt;
But I know you're just dying to hear about the rest of the trip, so I figured I should finish telling these tales.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And this one is one of the more memorable tales from our trip.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In life, every man faces challenges.&lt;br /&gt;
When given the opportunity, are you going to try to ride a bull named "Fu Man Chu"?&lt;br /&gt;
When standing at the top of a cliff over a body of water, are you going to have the guts to dive?&lt;br /&gt;
And when you face a water slide a grand as this one, are you going to have what it takes to give it a shot?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ezJdhLPD2xU/TjItDAL7dMI/AAAAAAAAAcM/53wv0GIlTLc/s1600/IMG_0048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="214" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ezJdhLPD2xU/TjItDAL7dMI/AAAAAAAAAcM/53wv0GIlTLc/s320/IMG_0048.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Quite a scary slide, I know.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
One of the things I love about being a father is playing the role of Superdad. Some dads may be the type that would sit by the pool reading a book and say "You boys go play. Have fun." I'm not that guy. I try to play with them as much as possible. I try to introduce new games or fun ideas to them. This year one of my bright ideas was to play with them in the kiddie waterpark. There was a sign that said "You must be under 14 to play in the water park." but there was also a sign that said this...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jHAAVTtitQY/TjIuKTfII2I/AAAAAAAAAcQ/EXEJ4HKZop0/s1600/IMG_0972.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jHAAVTtitQY/TjIuKTfII2I/AAAAAAAAAcQ/EXEJ4HKZop0/s320/IMG_0972.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Is that last line not common knowledge?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
so I didn't really trust their judgement in what signs they posted.and chose to ignore their age limit advice.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The waterpark was like a splashpad with a couple of slides. I slid down the red slide beside Ethan, racing him to the bottom. Of course I left him in my dust. He didn't have a chance of winning against my speed and agility.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PHU7pTn5LuU/TjIu6jPCmEI/AAAAAAAAAcU/7uCLUBmtqJI/s1600/IMG_1004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PHU7pTn5LuU/TjIu6jPCmEI/AAAAAAAAAcU/7uCLUBmtqJI/s320/IMG_1004.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ethan enjoying the red slide.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
But things didn't go quite as smooth when I followed him down the blue tube slide. As every good slider knows, you can't just sit and push yourself down. If you want to reach maximum sliding velocity you have to grab the bar above the slide and swing yourself down the slide helping you gain momentum before you even hit the slide. Knowing all these great tips, I grabbed the bar.... felt the sea breeze blowing lightly across my face.....pushed back on my heels, ready to charge into the tube slide...lifted my feet and used every bit of upper body strength I have to force myself into a fast swing into the tube....saw the top of the tunnel and realized I might crash my head into it and slightly lowered my body to avoid such a collision.... then the tradgedy happened. I felt a shocking thud as my tailbone crashed into the bottom of the slide. Somehow I had overcompensated trying to miss the top of the tube and instead used all my strength to force myself down onto my tailbone instead of into the slide.&lt;br /&gt;
It was painful to say the least.&lt;br /&gt;
As I slid down the slide in a semi-fetal position, I knew the pain I was feeling wasn't going to go away quickly.&lt;br /&gt;
I was right.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have either bruised or broken my tailbone. As I write this, now 5 days later I am still hurting. I feel fine standing or seated, but moving from one position to the other is not fun.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thankfully, this injury didn't ruin the trip&lt;br /&gt;
It did make me uncomfortable at times and I quickly became the butt of every joke (pun intended), but mostly It just gave me yet another reason to laugh at myself.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/O4RGQH9nOQGPen1Nq7J5jeMfv9g/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/O4RGQH9nOQGPen1Nq7J5jeMfv9g/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/sSI2NTUZL-Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/4173310463297152841/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/07/adventures-of-that-guy-day-3.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/4173310463297152841?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/4173310463297152841?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/sSI2NTUZL-Y/adventures-of-that-guy-day-3.html" title="The Adventures of &quot;That Guy&quot; - Day 3" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ezJdhLPD2xU/TjItDAL7dMI/AAAAAAAAAcM/53wv0GIlTLc/s72-c/IMG_0048.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/07/adventures-of-that-guy-day-3.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkEMQn09fSp7ImA9WhdSFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-8123139810800056233</id><published>2011-07-24T09:44:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-24T09:44:43.365-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-24T09:44:43.365-05:00</app:edited><title>The Adventures of "That Guy" - Day 2</title><content type="html">Well, the adventures continue.&lt;br /&gt;
Friday was great here in Panama City with the family.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lots of time was spent playing, laughing, and eating.&lt;br /&gt;
Here are some of the more interesting details...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Friday...&lt;br /&gt;
1. Lights On&lt;br /&gt;
We didn't get the boys in bed until after midnight Thursday night. So when I woke up at 8:45 Friday morning, I wasn't all that surprised to find that everyone was still asleep. But just the fact that both our boys slept past 8am is a first. I'm looking forward to the day when they both decide that "sleeping in" is a good idea.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. Gavin's Attention Span&lt;br /&gt;
We knew when we arrived that Gavin doesn't have a very long attention span. But we were reminded of this fact quickly when&amp;nbsp; we started our water fun for the day. &lt;a href="http://www.sterlingresorts.com/Panama-City-Beach/Resorts/Splash/23/?NCK=gppc_sr_09&amp;amp;gclid=CNrEgPKXmqoCFUJn5Qodh1d3wg"&gt;The condos we're staying in&lt;/a&gt; have 3 pools, a lazy river, a small water park area for the kids, and of course beach access. We never really planted ourselves at any one of them because Gavin (or Ethan) would say "Let's go to the lazy river" then 5 minutes later, "lets go to the pool". There were times&amp;nbsp;it felt like we were traveling between areas more than enjoying the areas themselves. But the boys we're happy. So we were too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3. The Lazy River&lt;br /&gt;
When we first got in the lazy river we were just chillin', letting the current carry us around as we floated. Then I heard someone say "Shawn Stinson!". To my surprise, I turned to&amp;nbsp;see a friend from high school, Matt Hardemon, floating by. It was good to see him and talk for a little while. There is some commentary that could be made about the fact that we ran into each other in the "lazy" river. But I'll just leave that alone. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4. Pea Soup&lt;br /&gt;
Unfortunately, the ocean looks like this, minus the leaf.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ms8xG6zvtPc/TiwuhnGpf2I/AAAAAAAAAcA/dxzwMDKIJNs/s1600/pea+soup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ms8xG6zvtPc/TiwuhnGpf2I/AAAAAAAAAcA/dxzwMDKIJNs/s1600/pea+soup.jpg" t$="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
The ocean is&amp;nbsp;full of what they call "june grass". We call it algae, seaweed, and grossness. So our ocean swimming has been very limited. But it hasn't stopped our fun. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
5. Captain Anderson's&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sx_MSx4yzLg/TiwvIJJp5cI/AAAAAAAAAcE/c-xwidDP54Y/s1600/captain+anderson%2527s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sx_MSx4yzLg/TiwvIJJp5cI/AAAAAAAAAcE/c-xwidDP54Y/s1600/captain+anderson%2527s.jpg" t$="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I could say a lot about this restaurant. It is easily my absolute&amp;nbsp;favorite restaurant anywhere, ever, period.&lt;br /&gt;
The waitress did steal some of our joy when she said "I'm sorry, but we're out of crab claws." (You should have seen the sad look on Ethan's face.&amp;nbsp;Pitiful, just pitiful.) But we survived. We're&amp;nbsp;going back Monday night , so we're&amp;nbsp;hoping by then they've found more crabs whose claws we can devour.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well, that's it for now. My tailbone is hurting as I sit here typing.&lt;br /&gt;
I'll tell you why when I post again tonight about our adventures from Day 3. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-8123139810800056233?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fuEfafZHBicV1hVvPcEbrp_8KSI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fuEfafZHBicV1hVvPcEbrp_8KSI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/ozoRi8SR0pk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/8123139810800056233/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/07/adventures-of-that-guy-day-2.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/8123139810800056233?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/8123139810800056233?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/ozoRi8SR0pk/adventures-of-that-guy-day-2.html" title="The Adventures of &quot;That Guy&quot; - Day 2" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ms8xG6zvtPc/TiwuhnGpf2I/AAAAAAAAAcA/dxzwMDKIJNs/s72-c/pea+soup.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/07/adventures-of-that-guy-day-2.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEMBQHw-cSp7ImA9WhdSE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-5883346072361058022</id><published>2011-07-22T08:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-22T08:47:31.259-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-22T08:47:31.259-05:00</app:edited><title>The Adventures of "That Guy": Day 1</title><content type="html">﻿ &lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2A2o6z5ZOA4/TikkBcIxDfI/AAAAAAAAAb8/pmIKCUEcWn4/s1600/splash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2A2o6z5ZOA4/TikkBcIxDfI/AAAAAAAAAb8/pmIKCUEcWn4/s1600/splash.jpg" t$="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Our home for the next 5 days, Splash Resort.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
﻿ Earlier today on Facebook I posted this...&lt;br /&gt;
"Effective immediately I will be 'that guy'. You know, the one that posts a bunch of beach pics and stories of the restaurants he's eating at with his family during their vacation. Consider yourself warned."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I guess this blog post is the beginning of those postings.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me and the lovely Kristi have been planning this vacation for months. We're so glad it's finally here.&lt;br /&gt;
We've brought our boys, once again, to Panama City Beach, FL &amp;nbsp;AKA the Redneck Riviera.&lt;br /&gt;
We love it. Great fun, great food, and of course the world's most beautiful beaches.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But what I enjoy even more than the beach itself are the experiences we have when we travel together.&lt;br /&gt;
As I write this, it's currently 1:53am&amp;nbsp; Friday morning. We have all finally settled in for the night and I've had a little time to reflect on our trip so far. So, as you can imagine, I'm exhausted, but not too exhausted to share ....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4&amp;nbsp;highlights from the first day of our summer vacation:&lt;br /&gt;
1.) The smile on Kristi's face when she picked me up from work. &lt;br /&gt;
We wanted to get here as quick as possible tonight but I had to work today, so we made arrangements for my brother&amp;nbsp;in law to drop me off at work this morning and for&amp;nbsp;Kristi to pick me up at 5. That way we could head straight to PCB. When she got to my office to get me, she was beaming. What a great smile. I think the only smile that compared to it was the one on my face as I climbed into a car that she had completely packed herself. It's amazing how much more relaxing the first few hours of a trip are when you're driving a vehicle that someone else has packed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2.)Ethan and Gavin have started really enjoying Looney Tunes. As we made the 5 hr drive from Birmingham to PC I was asking Ethan about his day. One of the first stories he told me was about a new&amp;nbsp;Looney Tune cartoon he had seen. It involved Bugs Bunny and a creature that tore stuff up and ran around like a tornado. "It's called the Titanium Devil" Ethan said excitedly. I almost didn't want to correct him...almost.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3.) One of the joys of travel is finding good travel music. So recently I put together a list of beach or summer songs for us to jam to en route.As we shuffled through the list on the iphone, we also stumbled across a few other random songs I had on there. One of those was by Michael McDonald. Kristi immediately asked me to change the song. Then she started to say how much she didn't like his voice. I really&amp;nbsp;wish I could &amp;nbsp;have recorded the next part for you.&amp;nbsp;She continued on to say everything he sings sound like this...&amp;nbsp;"mmph..mmvr...mmmph...mmmppph" I&amp;nbsp;know that doesn't translate well in writing. But you'll have to trust me. Her Michael&amp;nbsp;McDonald impression is equally &amp;nbsp;accurate and hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4.) We arrived to our condo around 10pm. (15 min earlier than Kristi bet that we would. I really should have wagered some money&amp;nbsp;on that bet.) As Kristi and Ethan unpacked, Gavin and I headed for Walmart. Now wait....think about this for a minute...me and Gavin.&amp;nbsp; (He's 5 yrs old)... at Walmart...in PCB... at 11pm. Needless to say, it was an adventure. There should definitely be a&amp;nbsp;website for these people and their various stages of dress or in some cases... undress. I knows there's a site for strange looking walmart customers, but the people we saw were in a whole 'nother category.&amp;nbsp; There really should be a "People of&amp;nbsp;Walmart, at the beach, at 11pm" site.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That's about all I got tonight. On the agenda for tomorrow...trying to avoid the incredibly thick seaweed in the ocean, having fun in the pool and splashpad at the condo, and of course, the part of the trip I look forward to the most, eating dinner at Captain Anderson's. I know you can hardly wait to see the pics of my food that I'll post.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-5883346072361058022?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/r8Bag9lnUlk_TxzmDd9llNW3l1U/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/r8Bag9lnUlk_TxzmDd9llNW3l1U/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/rF7tvjxN8Xg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/5883346072361058022/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/07/adventures-of-that-guy-day-1.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/5883346072361058022?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/5883346072361058022?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/rF7tvjxN8Xg/adventures-of-that-guy-day-1.html" title="The Adventures of &quot;That Guy&quot;: Day 1" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2A2o6z5ZOA4/TikkBcIxDfI/AAAAAAAAAb8/pmIKCUEcWn4/s72-c/splash.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/07/adventures-of-that-guy-day-1.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck8HQHo5eCp7ImA9WhZUFko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-5559501032926655910</id><published>2011-06-09T00:27:00.113-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-09T20:53:51.420-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-09T20:53:51.420-05:00</app:edited><title>From The Minds Of Babes</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;Well, I'm blogging again. I figure an 8 week break was long enough. So here we go....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you come over unannounced, you might find our living room floor looking like this....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-02MwOvp2FJ8/TfBbFudQl9I/AAAAAAAAAaw/lvxBzDFEHqE/s1600/IMG_0479.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-02MwOvp2FJ8/TfBbFudQl9I/AAAAAAAAAaw/lvxBzDFEHqE/s320/IMG_0479.JPG" t8="true" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;You may notice a few lego bricks on the floor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;Recently I helped Ethan and Gavin pick up their legos and found a few interesting creations I thought were worth sharing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;One thing I noticed quickly is that Ethan, the 7yr old,&amp;nbsp;is all about building vehicles.&amp;nbsp; Once he builds one, he never touches it again. It&amp;nbsp;is not a toy. It is a masterpece. The best ones make their way to his dresser to be displayed proudly to all his visitors.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ai_VuxzxkQ0/TfBc5v_YB8I/AAAAAAAAAa0/2wcohuj6vWE/s1600/IMG_0491.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ai_VuxzxkQ0/TfBc5v_YB8I/AAAAAAAAAa0/2wcohuj6vWE/s320/IMG_0491.JPG" t8="true" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
On the other hand, Gavin, the 4yr old, likes to play mostly with the lego people. I have seen him sit for long periods of time playing only with the lego people. He even has a box of some of his favorites in his room.&lt;br /&gt;
I'm not sure, but I think Squidward has been hired as a policeman and put in charge of security of the lego people community.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fejcpQ7tqRA/TfBgb-eUOfI/AAAAAAAAAa8/onwbyi43XtI/s1600/IMG_0509.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fejcpQ7tqRA/TfBgb-eUOfI/AAAAAAAAAa8/onwbyi43XtI/s320/IMG_0509.JPG" t8="true" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
As I cleaned up legos that night, I couldn't help but notice a few of Gavin's creations that were extra special. These creations are completely his. I have not posed them, I simply stood them up and snapped a pic. He gets all the credit...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-slZWI1Av6Tw/TfBiCDyXKrI/AAAAAAAAAbA/G_AdK8RE4nM/s1600/IMG_0493.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-slZWI1Av6Tw/TfBiCDyXKrI/AAAAAAAAAbA/G_AdK8RE4nM/s320/IMG_0493.JPG" t8="true" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Let's see.&amp;nbsp;What's happening here? Patrick from Spongebob is wearing an astronaut helmet, a coastguard jacket and motorcycle chaps. Sounds like just a regular day for Patrick. Oh, yeah, and he's missing an arm. Good thing he's a starfish and can grow it back.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1V58yIqU8r8/TfBf7ff_MBI/AAAAAAAAAa4/eyljAdg51hY/s1600/IMG_0507.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1V58yIqU8r8/TfBf7ff_MBI/AAAAAAAAAa4/eyljAdg51hY/s320/IMG_0507.JPG" t8="true" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Ok, Scuba tank on his back. motorcycle helmet, two guns, and an open shirt with Tatoos. Looks to me like this guy is looking for a whole lot of trouble and a good chest waxing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1LEiwEAns-s/TfBj-Kaw5tI/AAAAAAAAAbE/BkKXroo4XCQ/s1600/IMG_0497.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1LEiwEAns-s/TfBj-Kaw5tI/AAAAAAAAAbE/BkKXroo4XCQ/s320/IMG_0497.JPG" t8="true" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Scuba tank, large guns, and a vertical frying pan hat? Your guess is as good as mine.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4dhLZF2kWUg/TfFvCRr4lWI/AAAAAAAAAbI/Thccfsvt-yw/s1600/IMG_0501.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4dhLZF2kWUg/TfFvCRr4lWI/AAAAAAAAAbI/Thccfsvt-yw/s320/IMG_0501.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Catching butterflies? Ear deformity? Only Gavin knows for sure.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Fuh4rXN0QNM/TfFw5HadLeI/AAAAAAAAAbM/JgCvnlmvoqc/s1600/IMG_0505.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Fuh4rXN0QNM/TfFw5HadLeI/AAAAAAAAAbM/JgCvnlmvoqc/s320/IMG_0505.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Playing the part of part of Pinocchio today is C-3PO. "I'm a real boy.. specializing in human cyborg relations."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvWDFa1qTYM/TfFyrissPdI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/Sb4S6APlE9M/s1600/IMG_0499.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvWDFa1qTYM/TfFyrissPdI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/Sb4S6APlE9M/s320/IMG_0499.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I got this one all figure out... Luke Skywalker, after destroying the death star, gets his medal from Princess Leia, then immediately heads to the beach to show of his prizes from war: a storm trooper helmet and some weapons, and of course his sexy legs. Look out ladies. Luke is on the prowl.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e83wJaVSBO4/TfF0oGUP98I/AAAAAAAAAbU/bj0jJM0VqaQ/s1600/IMG_0503.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e83wJaVSBO4/TfF0oGUP98I/AAAAAAAAAbU/bj0jJM0VqaQ/s320/IMG_0503.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;And finally my favorite: Darth Vader, feeling he needs a new look, trades his famous helmet for the much more terrifying "Ax hat."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Do you have better captions for any of these? Do share....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-5559501032926655910?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bnTci7cJ6Pnex3SZH35Rp7S3D4Q/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bnTci7cJ6Pnex3SZH35Rp7S3D4Q/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/zO938EFMLcM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/5559501032926655910/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/06/from-minds-of-babes.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/5559501032926655910?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/5559501032926655910?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/zO938EFMLcM/from-minds-of-babes.html" title="From The Minds Of Babes" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-02MwOvp2FJ8/TfBbFudQl9I/AAAAAAAAAaw/lvxBzDFEHqE/s72-c/IMG_0479.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/06/from-minds-of-babes.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEcEQXc7eSp7ImA9WhZRFUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-2898778209293652432</id><published>2011-04-11T15:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-11T15:00:00.901-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-11T15:00:00.901-05:00</app:edited><title>Weekly Weigh In: Week 14 - The Quiet Man</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q9B_uNY0Rgc/TaNRbzx6vsI/AAAAAAAAAZo/N9MRZQaH5_U/s1600/THE+QUIET+MAN.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q9B_uNY0Rgc/TaNRbzx6vsI/AAAAAAAAAZo/N9MRZQaH5_U/s1600/THE+QUIET+MAN.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;I've never seen this movie. I just borrowed the pic from wikipedia. =)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;I don’t have a lot to say today.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Well, that’s not true.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The truth is I don’t have a lot that I want to say today. &lt;br /&gt;
Life has been busy, but I really just don’t feel like talking about it too much right now. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My Grandmother, Gladys Stinson, passed away last week. The funeral was this weekend. I’ll be writing about this precious lady soon. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But for now, I’ll just leave you with my weight stats for last week.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I’m still trending in the right direction, but eating my feelings at the funeral this past weekend sure hasn’t helped my progress. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Here are the stats from Friday 04/08/11&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Weight in Spring 2008 = 330.5 lbs (heaviest ever)&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Final Goal Weight = 230.0 lbs&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Weight 01/01/11 = 310.6 lbs&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Last Week's Weight = 287.6&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Current Weight = 284.8 lbs&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;This week's Δ = -2.8 lbs&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;This year’s Δ = -25.8 lbs&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Total Δ = -45.7 lbs&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;To go = 54.5 lbs.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'll be my normal wordy self again soon I'm sure.&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-2898778209293652432?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/V1e9nmIvYqe4wuM8ZdZ4Uia5-xQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/V1e9nmIvYqe4wuM8ZdZ4Uia5-xQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/V1e9nmIvYqe4wuM8ZdZ4Uia5-xQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/V1e9nmIvYqe4wuM8ZdZ4Uia5-xQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/d6FAZtbX5GU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/2898778209293652432/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/04/weekly-weigh-in-week-14-quiet-man.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/2898778209293652432?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/2898778209293652432?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/d6FAZtbX5GU/weekly-weigh-in-week-14-quiet-man.html" title="Weekly Weigh In: Week 14 - The Quiet Man" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q9B_uNY0Rgc/TaNRbzx6vsI/AAAAAAAAAZo/N9MRZQaH5_U/s72-c/THE+QUIET+MAN.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/04/weekly-weigh-in-week-14-quiet-man.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUUFSHw-eyp7ImA9WhZREE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-3521060835572022100</id><published>2011-04-05T14:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-05T14:53:39.253-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-05T14:53:39.253-05:00</app:edited><title>Reason #72 That I Love My Wife</title><content type="html">A glimpse into my day...&lt;br /&gt;
Here's a bit of text between the lovely Kristi and I about our plans after work. She asked if I'd make it to Ethan's ball practice after work. My replies are on the right. Hers on the left.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sQf6fJmi6_U/TZtyc10b2nI/AAAAAAAAAZg/v1DBUmR4kgU/s1600/iPhone%2B4044.png" imageanchor="1"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sQf6fJmi6_U/TZtyc10b2nI/AAAAAAAAAZg/v1DBUmR4kgU/s400/iPhone%2B4044.png" width="267" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;So... Reason #72 that I love my wife:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;She is smart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I am not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-3521060835572022100?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SP5y8so-H74gy5hmcngzBmEz01A/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SP5y8so-H74gy5hmcngzBmEz01A/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SP5y8so-H74gy5hmcngzBmEz01A/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SP5y8so-H74gy5hmcngzBmEz01A/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/JPBgNlV7LRw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/3521060835572022100/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/04/reason-72-that-i-love-my-wife.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/3521060835572022100?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/3521060835572022100?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/JPBgNlV7LRw/reason-72-that-i-love-my-wife.html" title="Reason #72 That I Love My Wife" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sQf6fJmi6_U/TZtyc10b2nI/AAAAAAAAAZg/v1DBUmR4kgU/s72-c/iPhone%2B4044.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/04/reason-72-that-i-love-my-wife.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0IGRXg6eSp7ImA9WhZSGUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-7641242368491093098</id><published>2011-04-03T21:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-04T14:32:04.611-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-04T14:32:04.611-05:00</app:edited><title>Weekly Weigh In: Week 13 - What Not To Wear</title><content type="html">It's been a good week.&lt;br /&gt;
Not only did I lose more poundage, but I saw some changes in the wardrobe department as well. So today's weekly weigh in comes with a bonus of fashion talk from me. I know that's what you've been waiting for, me to share my fashion secrets. Clearly I "have it going on" when it comes to fashion.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Normally I wouldn't talk about clothes. Just the idea of going shopping for clothes makes my eye twitch. I wonder why that is. Maybe it's because of the problems I've had for years finding my size. Maybe it's because of the dread of shopping in a "big boy" (Big &amp;amp; Tall) store.&amp;nbsp;Possibly my dread of shopping is a result of me shopping with my Mom when I was little, swinging on a dressing room door, and then breaking that door and getting embarrassed as I laid in&amp;nbsp;my underwear on the floor, hurt. (Yep, that happened.) I don't really know. I just know I don't like it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well, today I will set aside all those thoughts and talk just a little about clothes.&lt;br /&gt;
I've been looking forward to getting into a smaller size in clothes. I've mentioned earlier that one of my small goals was to get back to wearing a 2X shirt. I've always been able to wear a 2X shirt. They've just run a little more snug than I like. My moobs (man boobs) are large enough. No need to show them off with a tight shirt.&amp;nbsp;So I was looking forward to wearing a 2X shirt and it actually looking ok.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Some of you have asked me how I can feel comfortable talking so openly about my weight and all these issues. Honestly, I don't. I hate writing how much I weigh, but I know that being honest about this stuff is helping me to get away from it. It's helping me to remember daily to make the right choices.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That being said, here's some honesty for ya. At my heaviest I had gotten up to a 48" waist. There I said it. That's about how tall my 7 year old is. 48".&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know.&lt;br /&gt;
That's awful, but finally it's going down.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZBC1K6QbklE/TZkvreBJQNI/AAAAAAAAAZc/ScF_VjYm2cc/s1600/cookie+monster+shirt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" r6="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZBC1K6QbklE/TZkvreBJQNI/AAAAAAAAAZc/ScF_VjYm2cc/s1600/cookie+monster+shirt.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This week at Wally World, I decided to spend just a little bit of money and buy me some clothes to use as a goal. I wanted to have some clothes that wouldn't fit...yet, but that I could use as a measure to see when I could wear them comfortably. So I bought the cheapest clothes I could find for a guy my size.&amp;nbsp; I got some very fancy $11 "Faded Glory" jeans and an $11 2X Cookie Monster t-shirt. Yep big money. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;When I got home I tried them on to see how tight they were and to find out how close I'd be to actually wearing a 44" waist and a 2x shirt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;Surprisingly, they both fit!! I gotta admit, I was as happy as a fat kid at a buffet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;A 44' waste is still plenty big. But its a start.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;I&amp;nbsp; wonder what that measurement will be when I'm down to my final goal?&lt;/div&gt;Well, that's still a long way off, but I'll get there.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How about you? You meeting your goals? What are they?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Here are the stats from Friday 04/01/11&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Weight in Spring 2008 = 330.5 lbs (heaviest ever)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Final Goal Weight = 230.0 lbs&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Weight 01/01/11 = 310.6 lbs&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Last Week's Weight = 291.4&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Current Weight = 287.6 lbs&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;This week's Δ = -3.8 lbs&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;This year’s Δ = -23.0 lbs&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Total Δ = -42.9 lbs&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;To go = 57.6 lbs.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;script src="http://connect.facebook.net/en_US/all.js#xfbml=1"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;fb:like href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/04/weekly-weigh-in-week-13-what-not-to.html" layout="box_count" show_faces="false" width="450" font=""&gt;&lt;/fb:like&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-7641242368491093098?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rQ7Ci7nSOUBPT1alYpNmMaZsBPY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rQ7Ci7nSOUBPT1alYpNmMaZsBPY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rQ7Ci7nSOUBPT1alYpNmMaZsBPY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rQ7Ci7nSOUBPT1alYpNmMaZsBPY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/SJ5Cuxw8y3Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/7641242368491093098/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/04/weekly-weigh-in-week-13-what-not-to.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/7641242368491093098?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/7641242368491093098?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/SJ5Cuxw8y3Y/weekly-weigh-in-week-13-what-not-to.html" title="Weekly Weigh In: Week 13 - What Not To Wear" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZBC1K6QbklE/TZkvreBJQNI/AAAAAAAAAZc/ScF_VjYm2cc/s72-c/cookie+monster+shirt.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/04/weekly-weigh-in-week-13-what-not-to.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcEQ3Y_eCp7ImA9WhZSFUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-7805282726055543058</id><published>2011-03-31T14:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-31T14:00:02.840-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-31T14:00:02.840-05:00</app:edited><title>He Commenced To Shaving</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I was looking through some old pics earlier and found these.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Wow. These are bad. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;On December 19th, 2009 I had a crazy idea to stop shaving. I even blogged about it &lt;a href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2010/01/blog-post.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2010/01/beardwatch-week-3.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I had never before tried to grow a beard. It didn't take me long to see that this experiment just wasn't going to be a success for me. &lt;a href="http://www.josephblogolog.blogspot.com/"&gt;Some guys&lt;/a&gt; can grow awesome thick beards. Some can't. I'm one of the latter. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;So one month into this experiment I decided I was done. I was tired of the itching and gross looking growth on my face so I decided to shave it all off on January 17th, 2010. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Unfortunately for her, the lovely Kristi was there to take pics of the shaving process. Enjoy...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C8-MH7Trr_Q/TZSQu4JgLAI/AAAAAAAAAYo/5clS2oHEQYg/s1600/594.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C8-MH7Trr_Q/TZSQu4JgLAI/AAAAAAAAAYo/5clS2oHEQYg/s320/594.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Full beard, after 4 weeks of not shaving. side view.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gbZtPg66vDM/TZSQ7GhPNSI/AAAAAAAAAYw/Qpt6z1sTRiM/s1600/596.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gbZtPg66vDM/TZSQ7GhPNSI/AAAAAAAAAYw/Qpt6z1sTRiM/s320/596.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Same full beard, front view. And yes, I'm rocking a glorious v-neck white undershirt.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YYZ5mK_LFvQ/TZSRBXK9eeI/AAAAAAAAAY0/yIi9Xb0GlQM/s1600/597.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YYZ5mK_LFvQ/TZSRBXK9eeI/AAAAAAAAAY0/yIi9Xb0GlQM/s320/597.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;The Shaving begins, with lambchop sideburns.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AH3K64rLHK8/TZSRPJKMaNI/AAAAAAAAAY8/5J97EN1C9hk/s1600/599.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AH3K64rLHK8/TZSRPJKMaNI/AAAAAAAAAY8/5J97EN1C9hk/s320/599.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Almost a goatee...but not quite. A sad mustache and hair under your chin do not a goatee make.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2qah987aIMw/TZSRUgWp_II/AAAAAAAAAZA/rYfGbJpDxBA/s1600/600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2qah987aIMw/TZSRUgWp_II/AAAAAAAAAZA/rYfGbJpDxBA/s320/600.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;What I might look like if my neck hair would decide to move on up my chin towards my mouth where it should be.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bXJCTTdq9Cc/TZSRaeQSv3I/AAAAAAAAAZE/PwLYTOkQdsU/s1600/601.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bXJCTTdq9Cc/TZSRaeQSv3I/AAAAAAAAAZE/PwLYTOkQdsU/s320/601.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;My Colonel Sanders look.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DjFe05mCH7s/TZSRgcjsJ1I/AAAAAAAAAZI/k7oTRCowuB0/s1600/602.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DjFe05mCH7s/TZSRgcjsJ1I/AAAAAAAAAZI/k7oTRCowuB0/s320/602.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Soul patch? Not even. &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P-VZ4dp-1h8/TZSRl_f2KiI/AAAAAAAAAZM/csrC50X3VFg/s1600/603.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P-VZ4dp-1h8/TZSRl_f2KiI/AAAAAAAAAZM/csrC50X3VFg/s320/603.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Who has two thumbs and looks like Louie the plumber from Chicago? This guy.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uO7Jk0EhpHw/TZSRxWYqu8I/AAAAAAAAAZU/WIFIKzNBOs4/s1600/605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uO7Jk0EhpHw/TZSRxWYqu8I/AAAAAAAAAZU/WIFIKzNBOs4/s320/605.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is my "I've just tied a damsel to the railroad tracks and I dare the hero to come save her" mustache.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GSEqQoMR-YE/TZSR3IiSotI/AAAAAAAAAZY/WTuUg4Zn58o/s1600/606.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GSEqQoMR-YE/TZSR3IiSotI/AAAAAAAAAZY/WTuUg4Zn58o/s320/606.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;And finally, back to my fat baby face, but still rocking that awesome shirt. =)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;What do you think? Should I try this experiment again?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Special thanks to the lovely Kristi for the photography work,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;and to the Rick &amp;amp; Bubba Show for the inspiration for this entry's title. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-7805282726055543058?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5Kw4kLfpz6s5P957mk2SlVWd8aQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5Kw4kLfpz6s5P957mk2SlVWd8aQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5Kw4kLfpz6s5P957mk2SlVWd8aQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5Kw4kLfpz6s5P957mk2SlVWd8aQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/JIPh8-85uJ0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/7805282726055543058/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/03/he-commenced-to-shaving.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/7805282726055543058?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/7805282726055543058?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/JIPh8-85uJ0/he-commenced-to-shaving.html" title="He Commenced To Shaving" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C8-MH7Trr_Q/TZSQu4JgLAI/AAAAAAAAAYo/5clS2oHEQYg/s72-c/594.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/03/he-commenced-to-shaving.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0EEQXY5eip7ImA9WhZSFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-9118292694968924275</id><published>2011-03-30T14:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-30T14:00:00.822-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-30T14:00:00.822-05:00</app:edited><title>Big Brother Is Watching You</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Blogging is weird.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EBGhJD2SwF0/TZNv_DtdMdI/AAAAAAAAAYI/TfDcwkUW0n8/s1600/analytics.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EBGhJD2SwF0/TZNv_DtdMdI/AAAAAAAAAYI/TfDcwkUW0n8/s1600/analytics.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Well, maybe I should say my blog is weird. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A lot of bloggers find a topic and stick to it. But mine is sort of all over the place. So I’m not really sure what topic brought you here today. I’ve been trying to learn more about blogging and one of the things I’ve learned is that it’s a good idea to know where your readers are coming from and what they want to read. Now, I'm not a fan of Big Brother following my every move on the internet. But I've given up on ever having any privacy. And honestly, I'm having a little fun being able to see how you got to this blog.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
According to &lt;a href="http://www.google.com/analytics/"&gt;Google Analytics&lt;/a&gt; over half of the people who visit my little area of the interwebs come through my connections with them on Facebook. (Side note: Big thanks to all of you who “liked” Tales from Street Road on facebook recently. Thanks to you, I now have my own facebook url.&amp;nbsp; If you haven’t yet “liked” it yet go to &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/talesfromstreetroad"&gt;www.facebook.com/talesfromstreetroad&lt;/a&gt; and do that now.... What are you waiting for?) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Another chunk of you have found me through my connection with &lt;a href="http://theworshipcommunity.com/"&gt;theworshipcommunity.com&lt;/a&gt;, specifically the Sunday setlists that I participate in sharing weekly. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But probably the most intriguing group of visitors are those that stumbled here, those that clicked on a link and ended up here by accident. Through the magic that is Google Analytics, I have learned that there are a few folks who were on a google search for something specific and instead they found me.&amp;nbsp; What phrases do you think they were looking for that led them here? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;- “Worship leading”? ....nope &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;- “Stories of family life”?....nope &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;- “Interesting blogs”?.....Not even close &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The number one phrase that brought people here from google is ... "Wheel of Cheese". &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yep, “Wheel of Cheese” brought more people here from Google than any other phrase.&amp;nbsp; I assume it was &lt;a href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2009/12/its-not-easy-being-cheesy.html"&gt;this little entry from 2009&lt;/a&gt; that they found. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Other interesting search terms on that list were...&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;- “fat people”&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;- “10% fat”&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;- “assumptions about fat people” &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Based on this list, I’m beginning to think I should diversify my blog topics a little.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Besides cheese, what do you think I should write about?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-9118292694968924275?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HUVxkLXK78wJgh0bORfGRdvXSkk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HUVxkLXK78wJgh0bORfGRdvXSkk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HUVxkLXK78wJgh0bORfGRdvXSkk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HUVxkLXK78wJgh0bORfGRdvXSkk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/eYn3eYLyGQ8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/9118292694968924275/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/03/big-brother-is-watching-you.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/9118292694968924275?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/9118292694968924275?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/eYn3eYLyGQ8/big-brother-is-watching-you.html" title="Big Brother Is Watching You" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EBGhJD2SwF0/TZNv_DtdMdI/AAAAAAAAAYI/TfDcwkUW0n8/s72-c/analytics.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/03/big-brother-is-watching-you.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEcNRHY8eyp7ImA9WhZSEks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-6987036056624603284</id><published>2011-03-27T17:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-27T17:48:15.873-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-27T17:48:15.873-05:00</app:edited><title>Sunday Setlist 03-27-11</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qT01KLUBERM/TY--ERMFTdI/AAAAAAAAAYE/WXxF7rOFyyg/s1600/crown.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" r6="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qT01KLUBERM/TY--ERMFTdI/AAAAAAAAAYE/WXxF7rOFyyg/s1600/crown.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I turned things around a little at Westwood today. By that, I mean that I did something a little different. My typical format is to start with upbeat songs of celebration and gradually move towards slower, more mellow worship songs. Today we swapped it around. Starting with slower songs of praise and ending with an upbeat worship time instead. It was received well.&amp;nbsp; Here's what we did and some notes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Prelude:&amp;nbsp; &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Passion-Album-Version-Digital-Remaster/dp/B000TEP7S2?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;tag=widgetsamazon-20&amp;amp;link_code=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We Fall Down &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=widgetsamazon-20&amp;amp;l=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=B000TEP7S2" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px !important; padding-left: 0px !important; padding-right: 0px !important; padding-top: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(Tomlin)&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=widgetsamazon-20&amp;amp;l=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=B000TEP7S2" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px !important; padding-left: 0px !important; padding-right: 0px !important; padding-top: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Announcements: Shawn &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Jesus-We-Crown-You-Praise/dp/B001KWSIEC?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;tag=widgetsamazon-20&amp;amp;link_code=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jesus, We Crown You With Praise&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=widgetsamazon-20&amp;amp;l=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=B001KWSIEC" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px !important; padding-left: 0px !important; padding-right: 0px !important; padding-top: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt; (Wolfe - Brooklyn Tab)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Passion-Album-Version-Digital-Remaster/dp/B000TEP7S2?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;tag=widgetsamazon-20&amp;amp;link_code=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We Fall Down&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=widgetsamazon-20&amp;amp;l=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=B000TEP7S2" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px !important; padding-left: 0px !important; padding-right: 0px !important; padding-top: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=widgetsamazon-20&amp;amp;l=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=B000TE9L5C" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px !important; padding-left: 0px !important; padding-right: 0px !important; padding-top: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt; (Tomlin)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/There-Redeemer-Early-Years-Version/dp/B0017F7Z5U?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;tag=widgetsamazon-20&amp;amp;link_code=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There Is A Redeemer&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=widgetsamazon-20&amp;amp;l=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=B0017F7Z5U" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px !important; padding-left: 0px !important; padding-right: 0px !important; padding-top: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt; (Green)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Welcome / Fellowship&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Crown Him With Many Crowns (HYMN)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Holy-Is-The-Lord/dp/B000TDYQHQ?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;tag=widgetsamazon-20&amp;amp;link_code=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Holy Is The Lord&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=widgetsamazon-20&amp;amp;l=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=B000TDYQHQ" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px !important; padding-left: 0px !important; padding-right: 0px !important; padding-top: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt; (Tomlin)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Not-Us-Album-Version/dp/B000S50OQM?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;tag=widgetsamazon-20&amp;amp;link_code=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Not To Us&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=widgetsamazon-20&amp;amp;l=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=B000S50OQM" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px !important; padding-left: 0px !important; padding-right: 0px !important; padding-top: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt; (Tomlin)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Offertory Prayer: Deacon&lt;br /&gt;
Special Music: &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Deep-Way-Down/dp/B0011WA8TY?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;tag=widgetsamazon-20&amp;amp;link_code=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Deep (Way Down)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=widgetsamazon-20&amp;amp;l=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=B0011WA8TY" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px !important; padding-left: 0px !important; padding-right: 0px !important; padding-top: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;(Selah Version)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Kara Kinnaird, Heather Potts, Shawn Stinson &amp;amp; WBC Rhythm Section&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Message: “Lamb of God: The Passover” (Exodus 12:21-30)&lt;br /&gt;
Theme: Salvation always involves sacrifice&lt;br /&gt;
Invitation: &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Worthy-Is-The-Lamb/dp/B00137RI7W?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;tag=widgetsamazon-20&amp;amp;link_code=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Worthy Is The Lamb&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=widgetsamazon-20&amp;amp;l=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=B00137RI7W" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px !important; padding-left: 0px !important; padding-right: 0px !important; padding-top: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt; (Zschech)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Closing Chorus: &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Not-Us-Album-Version/dp/B000S50OQM?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;tag=widgetsamazon-20&amp;amp;link_code=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Not To Us&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=widgetsamazon-20&amp;amp;l=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=B000S50OQM" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px !important; padding-left: 0px !important; padding-right: 0px !important; padding-top: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt; (Tomlin)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The service went well. No musical trainwrecks. As the service started, I shared how I was reminded of the first song in a dream. It was a song I hadn't heard or thought about in years. But I recently had a dream about being in church singing it so we did it today. Everyone seemed to really sing out on this favorite from a decade ago.&lt;br /&gt;
Also, there was an unintended theme in the song lyrics today. 4 of the 8 songs we did today referenced crowning Christ as Lord. That was completely accidental. But maybe I should have&amp;nbsp;kept that to myself. People may have thought that was on purpose.&lt;br /&gt;
On a personal note, I got to sing harmony today. This doesn't happen very often. I sang in a trio with two of our sopranos and it went great. We didn't quite hit our goal of "peeling white people off the ceiling" but the majority of the church was on their feet clapping and celebrating the Love of God with us. I'm so thankful for the talent we have in our church. The rhythm section really rocked it. And I'm glad Kara and Heather let me intrude and sing with them. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How was your Sunday?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;This entry is part of the Sunday Setlists over at &lt;a href="http://www.theworshipcommunity.com/sunday-setlists-140/"&gt;TheWorshipCommunity.com&lt;/a&gt;. There you can check out what churches are doing all over the world. This entry is about the Sunday morning worship service at Westwood Baptist Church in the Forestdale community of Birmingham, AL (Our services generally include a 30-35 voice choir, 4 person praise team, and full orchestra.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-6987036056624603284?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ckGMgUzi2VXOzjP11gKS0i5LuxI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ckGMgUzi2VXOzjP11gKS0i5LuxI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ckGMgUzi2VXOzjP11gKS0i5LuxI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ckGMgUzi2VXOzjP11gKS0i5LuxI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/gG10AoJv5oI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/6987036056624603284/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/03/sunday-setlist-03-27-11.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/6987036056624603284?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/6987036056624603284?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/gG10AoJv5oI/sunday-setlist-03-27-11.html" title="Sunday Setlist 03-27-11" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qT01KLUBERM/TY--ERMFTdI/AAAAAAAAAYE/WXxF7rOFyyg/s72-c/crown.bmp" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/03/sunday-setlist-03-27-11.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4ARnY7eip7ImA9WhZSEEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-8743393624978073287</id><published>2011-03-25T13:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-25T13:15:47.802-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-25T13:15:47.802-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Fester's Arms" /><title>Weekly Weigh In: Week 12 - Before &amp; During</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Everyone loves "before and after pics", right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I mean, my favorite part of any weight loss or makeover show is the last few minutes when you see the comparison of how the person originally looked to how they look now. Well, I'm not ready to say this is a "before and after" blog post because I'm not even half way to meeting my final goal yet. But when I saw our recent Gatlinburg pics I remembered that I had pics from us taking the same trip back on 2008. So for your shock and awe, along with my stats for this week, I present this comparison....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-y5iiLA98T8Y/TYwRJ4ieotI/AAAAAAAAAX8/eAQ8hbI334o/s1600/IMG_2674.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-y5iiLA98T8Y/TYwRJ4ieotI/AAAAAAAAAX8/eAQ8hbI334o/s320/IMG_2674.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;The lovely Kristi and I in March 2008. I was at my heaviest ever.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-PV8rZOFfV28/TYwR3XPzA-I/AAAAAAAAAYA/kZnVeygWqIg/s1600/gatlinburg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-PV8rZOFfV28/TYwR3XPzA-I/AAAAAAAAAYA/kZnVeygWqIg/s320/gatlinburg.jpg" width="292" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;The lovely Kristi and I, 3 years later. and me about 37 lbs lighter.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Apparently, all my weight loss so far has come from my chins.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;Here are the stats from Friday 03/25/11&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Weight in Spring 2008 = 330.5 lbs (heaviest ever)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Final Goal Weight = 230.0 lbs&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Weight 01/01/11 = 310.6 lbs&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Last Week's Weight = 295.4&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Current Weight = 291.4 lbs&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;This week's Δ = -4 lbs&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;This year’s Δ = -19.2 lbs&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Total Δ = -39.4 lbs&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;To go = 61.4 lbs.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ezQwvBdncY6tVHe1v5qggkODMF0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ezQwvBdncY6tVHe1v5qggkODMF0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/ZKE7ArOPsG8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/8743393624978073287/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/03/weekly-weigh-in-week-12-before-during.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/8743393624978073287?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/8743393624978073287?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/ZKE7ArOPsG8/weekly-weigh-in-week-12-before-during.html" title="Weekly Weigh In: Week 12 - Before &amp; During" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-y5iiLA98T8Y/TYwRJ4ieotI/AAAAAAAAAX8/eAQ8hbI334o/s72-c/IMG_2674.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/03/weekly-weigh-in-week-12-before-during.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkcERXk6eyp7ImA9WhZTGUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-5612475680934133608</id><published>2011-03-23T16:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T16:00:04.713-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-23T16:00:04.713-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Vacation" /><title>8 Things I Now Know About Hiking</title><content type="html">While in Gatlinburg last weekend, Kristi and I decided to try something new and go hiking. I googled the words "Gatlinburg" and "hiking" and it led us to Rainbow Falls. I learned a lot that day. So instead of hoarding all this knowledge to myself here are...&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;8 Things I Now Know About Hiking &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;1.)    If you see someone else on the hiking trail, you must speak. It’s like a law or something. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Every group of people we passed felt compelled to say something, anything. Kind of like being on an elevator. The problem is that both parties are moving in different directions. So talking is like Twitter, limited to 140 characters or less. As people pass they’ll say something very quick like “You’ve only got 1 more hour to the top.”  Or “Watch out for the creek ahead.” Or one of the oddest ”When they say don’t feed the bears, they mean it!” (I’m not sure what that was all about. It was more creepy than funny when the guy said it.) I would have been fine with just a smile or friendly nod, but for some reason everyone wanted to chat for 3 seconds as we passed. (Now, when I say passed, I mean we were heading up on the same trail that they were heading down. If you think that we were walking faster than someone and passed them on the way up, then you clearly don’t know me well.)  Strangers on the trail might even try to find something you have in common with them and briefly discuss that. Kristi and I accidently both wore shirts that day proudly displaying our support of the University of Alabama. While walking the streets of Gatlinburg and hiking the mtn, we got at least 20 shouts of “Roll Tide!”  But the best had to be from a group of Asian students who looked happy when they saw our shirts. They spoke in another language to each other, pointing at us the whole time. Then one of them said to us “We’re from UA.” It took me a minute to realize what he said through his very thick accent. Then he exclaimed. “Row the Tide!!” We gave them a friendly “Roll Tide” in return and walked at least 10 feet away before we started laughing.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Gri8VB8zn0A/TYpCdgQ0nOI/AAAAAAAAAXs/DUhJd85Le1o/s1600/HIKER.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Gri8VB8zn0A/TYpCdgQ0nOI/AAAAAAAAAXs/DUhJd85Le1o/s200/HIKER.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;2.)    Accessorize&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Walking sticks change from “something to make of” to “something you wish you had” the further up the mountain you go. The first hiker we saw on the trail looked something like this... I almost laughed out loud. It was as if he stepped out of an outdoor catalog. I spent a little while making fun of these people. But the higher we went, the rockier the terrain got, and I started to slip and slide around the trail. I finally admitted at one point. I wish I had a walking stick. It was a sad moment.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;3.)One important question to ask&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
Why am I doing this? Is the view of an 80’ waterfall worth a 3 mile uphill hike?&lt;br /&gt;
In a word... no.&lt;br /&gt;
Here’s what we saw.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-xrrDlMfmmKQ/TYpCdHpjpoI/AAAAAAAAAXk/dwLk1pDapPs/s1600/rainbow+falls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-xrrDlMfmmKQ/TYpCdHpjpoI/AAAAAAAAAXk/dwLk1pDapPs/s1600/rainbow+falls.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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I’ve just saved you a 4 hour walk in the woods.&lt;br /&gt;
You’re welcome.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;4.) How many days will a heavy guy in bad shape be sore after a 6 mile hike?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The Answer: 5.&lt;br /&gt;
Starting with the feet that first day.&lt;br /&gt;
Then the pain makes it way up to his calves and camps there for a few days.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;5.) What not to wear&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
You should carefully consider what you wear before hiking. I started off with a long sleeve pullover, but lost it when I got sweaty. Then put it back on when we reached snowy areas. I guess that wasn’t so bad. The problem I had was with shoes. I don’t think my New Balance tennis shoes were designed for the Rainbow falls trail. So the real question is “Do you need hiking boots for hiking?” If you like muddy tennis shoes, twisting your ankles, and ending the day walking in wet shoes and socks (AKA: “six flags” style.) then no. You don’t need hiking boots. &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;6.) Rations&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
As you can see, we went on this hike without any real planning. We didn’t even bring a single bottle of water. This came to our attention about 1 hour into the uphill journey. By the 90 minute   point we started talking a lot about how good water would be right then. We even got so thirsty that suddenly a small stream flowing down a mountain looked like a great source of refreshment.   It didn’t take long at all for me to talk my lovely wife into doing this...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-6DTOmDrHUe4/TYpXXN5_L8I/AAAAAAAAAX4/ncu-k8oAzVI/s1600/iPhone+315.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-6DTOmDrHUe4/TYpXXN5_L8I/AAAAAAAAAX4/ncu-k8oAzVI/s320/iPhone+315.jpg" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It was only afterward that we began to doubt our decision and she mentioned that we might get sick because of the possible amoebas we just ingested. Luckily though, neither of us  got sick and we were glad we took that drink.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;7.) Know the difficulty of the hike before beginning.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
My wonderful Google search, led me to many trails we could have hiked that day.&lt;br /&gt;
Some were marked “Easy”. Easy trails had things like, paved paths, stroller &amp;amp; wheelchair accessible. I could just imagine us walking through the woods and having to pass Grandmaw Moses on her scooter, so I kept looking.&lt;br /&gt;
“Moderate” trails listed slight inclines, rocky terrains. Not recommended for small children. That sounded pretty good to me.&lt;br /&gt;
Then the “Difficult” trails said things like very steep, mountain climbing, and were very long paths. So I knew “moderate” was the way to go.&lt;br /&gt;
A 2.7 mile hike to a waterfall sounded like a good idea. It seemed to be a great way to spend 2.5 hours in Gatlinburg. But that was not the case for us. It took us a little longer. As this video will show, our 4 hour moderate hike was a little more difficult that we expected. Good luck understanding the big guy as he tries to talk while winded.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/_S7MdQug78o" title="YouTube video player" width="425"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OShhHJlmz_0/TYpCdYcjZ1I/AAAAAAAAAXo/oXR0-fbN0Bw/s1600/baljeet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OShhHJlmz_0/TYpCdYcjZ1I/AAAAAAAAAXo/oXR0-fbN0Bw/s1600/baljeet.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;8.) Have a buddy&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
It’s a good idea to have a buddy when hiking. There were times I would have stopped and said, “That’s it! Forget it, I’m heading back down.” But Kristi encouraged me by saying  things like “we’ve come this far, let’s keep going.” And I did the same for her. We walked for a while with a nice young couple and it was obvious the whole time that he wanted to keep going, but she was done about half way up. But at least they were together. But the most interesting group we encountered was Baljeet and his girlfriend. Both of them were of Indian decent or at least it appears that way based on how they looked and talked. (Wait.. is this sounding racist?) We never officially met them, so I began referring to them as  “Baljeet and his girlfriend”. (Baljeet is an Indian character on the cartoon Phineas &amp;amp; Ferb. He is hilarious.) So that seemed like a nice nickname for this young man to me.  (Yep, this sounds racist for sure.) Anyway, this couple was very nice. We passed each other on the trail a couple of times as they would take breaks and so would we. They seemed nice enough. But they were very annoying.  You see, they were both thin and in good shape and just seemed so happy to be moseying up and down the mountain holding hands. I didn’t see any sweat on them. They never appeared to get winded. I began to dislike Baljeet and his girlfriend by the time we both reached the top simply because they remained so giddy as I grew more fatigued and ready to be done.&lt;br /&gt;
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That about sums up our hike and lessons learned. I’ll probably hike again someday. But I assure you I’ll be more prepared for the terrain. I’ll have better accessories, rations, and clothing. And I’ll try to stay far away from annoying, happy, friendly, fit people like Baljeet and his girlfriend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-5612475680934133608?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Ours&amp;nbsp;was great. We laughed. We cried. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uaebojaxt3s"&gt;I loved it. It was much better than cats.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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But seriously, the service went well this morning.&lt;br /&gt;
I planned our service using a little more traditional music than I typically would.&lt;br /&gt;
Our students were scheduled to be out of town on retreat, but that got canceled just a week ago.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-4Rwi-zAgPdM/TYaByyTZXnI/AAAAAAAAAXg/iGIXCUHrlzQ/s1600/imagesCAYC8MLJ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" r6="true" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-4Rwi-zAgPdM/TYaByyTZXnI/AAAAAAAAAXg/iGIXCUHrlzQ/s1600/imagesCAYC8MLJ.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Rather than changing plans to make the service a little more contemporary, I decided to stick with the original plan. You may wonder why I would even think about such things. That's the way I typically pan our services. I try&amp;nbsp;to consider who will be in attendance. Who will be worshipping that day? What elements of the service or style of music helps them connect with the Father most? I know some might say it is better for your church to have a style and that you should rarely deviate from that. But I think rather than sticking to church's specific worship style, it is better to consider the people attending and what their needs are. What do you think?&lt;br /&gt;
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Anyway, here's what we did...&lt;br /&gt;
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Opened with Statewide Day of Prayer 1stPriority Video&lt;br /&gt;
Call To Worship: &lt;b&gt;I’ve Been Changed” (Old Southern Hymn)&lt;/b&gt; Choir &amp;amp; Orchestra&lt;br /&gt;
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Announcements: Shawn&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;Praise To The Lord The Almighty (HYMN))&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Oh, How I Love Jesus (HYMN)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Welcome &amp;amp; Fellowship: Bro. Steve&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;Are You Washed In The Blood (HYMN) &lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;(I love watching the white 95% of our church try to clap on the off beat. =)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Jesus Messiah (Tomlin)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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Special Music: &lt;b&gt;This Is How We Know (Redman)&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Shawn , with CD trax&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I try not to sing many solos. I know people tire of hearing me. But I decided this would be a good way to introduce this song. Hope to teach it as a congregational song and have us singing it together by Easter Sunday.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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Message: ““Lamb of God: The Promise” (Genesis 22:1-18) - Bro. Steve&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Great Message from Bro. Steve. comparing the sacrifice that Abraham almost had to make of his son Isaac, with the sacrifice that God did make for us. Our pastor has really been "on " recently. If you're in central Alabama anytime and want to hear a great message from God's word. please stop on by.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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Invitation: &lt;b&gt;You Are My King (Amazing Love) (Foote)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Closing Chorus: &lt;b&gt;Take Up Your Cross (Brooklyn Tab)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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How was Your Sunday??&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;i&gt;This entry is part of the Sunday Setlists over at &lt;a href="http://www.theworshipcommunity.com/sunday-setlists-139-march-20-2011/"&gt;TheWorshipCommunity.com&lt;/a&gt;. There you can check out what churches are doing all over the world. This entry is about the Sunday morning worship service at Westwood Baptist Church in the Forestdale community of Birmingham, AL (Our services generally include a 30-35 voice choir, 4 person praise team, and full orchestra.)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-1688455763707749499?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/47ehGLjT9QWFx7s59avS4tRwDhU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/47ehGLjT9QWFx7s59avS4tRwDhU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/gCbIPfrmaSI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/1688455763707749499/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/03/sunday-setlist-03-20-11.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/1688455763707749499?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/1688455763707749499?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/gCbIPfrmaSI/sunday-setlist-03-20-11.html" title="Sunday Setlist 03-20-11" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-4Rwi-zAgPdM/TYaByyTZXnI/AAAAAAAAAXg/iGIXCUHrlzQ/s72-c/imagesCAYC8MLJ.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/03/sunday-setlist-03-20-11.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk8MQHwycSp7ImA9WhZTFUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-2184554266181264427</id><published>2011-03-19T08:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-19T09:28:01.299-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-19T09:28:01.299-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Fester's Arms" /><title>Weekly Weigh In: Week 11</title><content type="html">As feared I cannot report today the same weight loss results as I did &amp;nbsp;last week. Apparently if you lose 5 lbs one week then eat 1500+ calorie meals in Gatlinburg &amp;nbsp;for 3 days after that, you will put it all back on.&lt;br /&gt;
And if breakfast every single one of those days looks just like this...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-rykIEGzvYU4/TYQ_46JEFdI/AAAAAAAAAXc/aYK-Qyo6vX0/s1600/iPhone+302.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="239" r6="true" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-rykIEGzvYU4/TYQ_46JEFdI/AAAAAAAAAXc/aYK-Qyo6vX0/s320/iPhone+302.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Then you definitely will put it back on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;But it sure was tasty.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Gatlinburg was fun but now it's back reality, the treadmill, and salads.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Here are the stats from Friday 03/18/11&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Weight in Spring 2008 = 330.5 lbs (heaviest ever)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Final Goal Weight = 230.0 lbs&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Weight 01/01/11 = 310.6 lbs&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Last Week's Weight = 292.8&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Current Weight = 295.4 lbs&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This week's Δ =&amp;nbsp;+2.6 lbs&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;This year’s Δ = -15.2 lbs&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Total Δ = -35.1 lbs&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;To go = 65.4 lbs.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-2184554266181264427?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FG4A7qnfBHWiJIEJHC3rgfcksSc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FG4A7qnfBHWiJIEJHC3rgfcksSc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FG4A7qnfBHWiJIEJHC3rgfcksSc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FG4A7qnfBHWiJIEJHC3rgfcksSc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/76W16U1iOGk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/2184554266181264427/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/03/weekly-weigh-in-week-11.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/2184554266181264427?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/2184554266181264427?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/76W16U1iOGk/weekly-weigh-in-week-11.html" title="Weekly Weigh In: Week 11" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-rykIEGzvYU4/TYQ_46JEFdI/AAAAAAAAAXc/aYK-Qyo6vX0/s72-c/iPhone+302.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/03/weekly-weigh-in-week-11.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0QDSH4ycCp7ImA9WhZTEEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586001842145002059.post-2564660060793460740</id><published>2011-03-14T01:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-14T01:49:39.098-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-14T01:49:39.098-05:00</app:edited><title>An Important Message</title><content type="html">I have so many stories to tell you. And I will in the coming blog posts. You see, I have spent the last 48 hours in Gatlinburg with my beautiful wife, Kristi, celebrating our 13th wedding anniversary. We've had a blast. Some of the stories have involved...&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;- Abe Lincoln on the strip.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;- Hiking with Baljeet and his girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;
and of course...&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;- Billy the "grabby" waiter.&lt;br /&gt;
I'll get to those stories in time. I promise. But for right now I have something extremely important to say.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I Love My Wife!&lt;br /&gt;
13 years ago today she said "I do"&amp;nbsp;when asked if she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me. I'm so thankful she did. I thought this would be an easy entry to write, but I've been sitting here in this cabin in Gatlinburg for almost an hour writing paragraphs and then deleting them. Somehow my words just&amp;nbsp;can't seem to say enough how much she means to me. Even beyond that, that they can't really express&amp;nbsp;how thankful I am for her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You may find this hard to believe, but I'm not perfect. I'm definitely not a perfect husband. In these 13 years, I've messed up in almost every way a guy can mess up and somehow, she still loves me. Somehow she still allows me to be the guy that people look at in the mall and wonder.."Why is&amp;nbsp;SHE with HIM?!? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You know what I mean...&lt;br /&gt;
She's a pretty little school teacher. I'm a big goofy doofus.&lt;br /&gt;
She gets concerned over wrinkled clothes and microscopic stains. I define laundry&amp;nbsp;with words like&amp;nbsp;"clean enough."&lt;br /&gt;
She's intelligent and witty. I have to think hard about how to put coherent sentences together, much less funny ones.&lt;br /&gt;
She's got a heart for kids and caring for other people. I've proved time and time again that I'm&amp;nbsp;extremely selfish. (something God and I are really working on right now.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'll never understand why God brought us together. By that, I mean I really don't deserve to be this happy. But I know He did. For some reason He loved me enough to make Kristi for me and introduce us. Without a doubt He made us for each other. Somehow, we fill each other's gaps. I really don't want to quote cheesy movie lines, but I could totally tell her "you complete me."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-He5FxpWatbc/TX25Ckng6pI/AAAAAAAAAXU/pmR0_Jt6qPE/s1600/gatlinburg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" q6="true" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-He5FxpWatbc/TX25Ckng6pI/AAAAAAAAAXU/pmR0_Jt6qPE/s320/gatlinburg.jpg" width="295" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Kristi and I after hiking 3 miles up t&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;Rainbow Falls in Gatlinburg 03/13/11.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;Kristi, I love you more than my lowly vocabulary can express. You are my best friend, my confidant, my encourager, and my wife. As you know, the morning after mine and your first date, I told my Mom "That's the kind of girl I want to marry." &amp;nbsp;I'm so glad you said "yes" when I asked you years later. I've made a ton of mistakes in our 13 years of marriage and I know I'll make more. But I promise they'll be a whole new list of mistakes. =)&amp;nbsp;Thankfully,&amp;nbsp;I'm learning how to be the husband you deserve with each mistake. God is showing me&amp;nbsp;daily how to love you like Christ loves the Church. Thank You for loving me as much as I know you do.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am so&amp;nbsp;thankful...&lt;br /&gt;
for the&amp;nbsp;open communication we have with each other,&lt;br /&gt;
for the support you give me and my ministry,&lt;br /&gt;
for the awesome mother you are to our sons,&lt;br /&gt;
for the relationship you have with Christ,&lt;br /&gt;
for your forgiveness when I fail you,&lt;br /&gt;
for your sense of humor,&lt;br /&gt;
and of course..&lt;br /&gt;
for the fact that you're incredibly hot!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Happy 13th Anniversary, Kristi.&lt;br /&gt;
This is only the beginning.&lt;br /&gt;
I love you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586001842145002059-2564660060793460740?l=talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qrypRFl9F8HCLJu6Hcw1PTPcH4I/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qrypRFl9F8HCLJu6Hcw1PTPcH4I/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~4/7PlMElC2R_M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/feeds/2564660060793460740/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/03/important-message.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/2564660060793460740?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586001842145002059/posts/default/2564660060793460740?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/QNiP/~3/7PlMElC2R_M/important-message.html" title="An Important Message" /><author><name>Shawn Stinson</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103572343768460119595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dzJYy2kNvEM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9DTzvHY6J8Q/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-He5FxpWatbc/TX25Ckng6pI/AAAAAAAAAXU/pmR0_Jt6qPE/s72-c/gatlinburg.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://talesfromstreetroad.blogspot.com/2011/03/important-message.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

