tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65014080824105541682024-10-06T22:32:11.886-05:00Brianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03688900704368712526noreply@blogger.comBlogger223125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-69221604211067372892013-08-20T09:02:00.000-05:002014-07-06T13:44:11.908-05:00

Larry McMurty's Lonesome Dove received the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1985 and has been considered a classic of Western Literature since its publication, and it is one of the most enjoyable novels I've read in a long while. My grandfather has loved the miniseries adapted from the novel since it first aired on broadcast television (he still watches it once a year on VHS), and he has never

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-87954574966741742582013-08-19T09:02:00.000-05:002013-08-24T09:45:13.763-05:00

On the Road is one of my all-time favorite novels. I have read it at least three times, not including the one time I've read On the Road: The Original Scroll. I've been excited for a long while to see the film adaptation because Walter Salles (the director) and Francis Ford Coppola (the producer) have respectively created some great movies; they seemed like the perfect team to create this

Brianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03688900704368712526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-54902662787319734922013-08-05T09:02:00.000-05:002013-08-05T09:02:00.193-05:00

Last December I started reading Gone with the Wind. I intended to read it over the course of two weeks while visiting family for the holiday season. The pinnacle of this endeavor was to be a Saturday in which I was by myself except for Margaret Mitchell's Pulitzer Prize winning novel. (The fact that Absalom, Absalom! did not receive the Pulitzer for fiction is a complaint for another blog post.

Brianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03688900704368712526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-20371685418953207722013-08-02T09:02:00.000-05:002013-08-02T11:32:16.817-05:00

Scene--The Queen Bee and the Gypsy-father are planning out their afternoon after a morning of cleaning the bathrooms. The Gypsy-father: OK, Queenie, we're going to eat lunch, then read a book, then watch a Seinfeld, then take a nap. How does that sound? Queen Bee: That's a pretty good idea, but maybe we should just watch a lot of Seinfelds. You know, like a Seinfeld movie night.

Brianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03688900704368712526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-41375111182363234322013-05-27T09:02:00.000-05:002013-05-27T09:02:00.249-05:00

Credit: Prem Sichanugristhttp://www.flickr.com/photos/sikachu/CC BY-SA 2.0 Recently, there was a storm that moved through OKC during the night. It was not a bad storm, though there were some strong winds; it was nothing like last week's storm that produced the deadly tornado. The afternoon after this storm, I was walking the Queen Bee home after school, and we turned onto our street, she took

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-29304285843721406902013-05-21T09:02:00.000-05:002013-05-21T13:36:39.633-05:00

A tornado ripped through Moore, Oklahoma yesterday. Moore is roughly a twenty minute drive from my house, so while we were in no proximity to danger, the extremem loss is so close that it hurts in a special, initmate way. I feel a numbness today. It's as if my emotions are so constant and intense that my body offsets this with a physical apathy. Only sitting and staring feels good. People are

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-47592970772186854672013-05-16T09:29:00.000-05:002013-05-16T09:30:24.741-05:00

Thirty-one years ago this month, my great grandfather passed away after a battle with cancer. I was very young, and it was my first encounter with death. I guess I was close to my great grandparents; I attached to them in a special way because my great granfather was a woodworker and he made me toys. I still have one of the toys: a car. Like a lot of couples, my parents didn't have much money

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-32328346403648572752013-04-10T15:41:00.001-05:002013-08-02T11:32:55.548-05:00

Scene--the Queen Bee is following the Sharkdog around the living room, attempting to place a sheet of paper in front of his face upon which a long-haired princess is drawn. The Sharkdog, unsure of what is happening, keeps turning his face and walking away. Gypsy-father: Queenie, what are you doing? Queen Bee: I'm trying to show my picture to Sharkdog. Gypsy-father: I think he sees it; I think

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-31195092798803215902013-03-25T09:02:00.000-05:002013-03-25T09:15:12.776-05:00

Credit: Jonathon Camphttp://www.flickr.com/photos/viknanda/ CC BY-SA 2.0 I think church does not change because we always ask the same questions. The questions remain the same even though different churches might provide different answers. But, because the question is always the same, and the answers must be rooted in the arena of the question, all the answers ultimately end up with a great

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-44579889987385062622013-03-22T09:02:00.000-05:002013-03-22T09:18:36.785-05:00

Credit: Vik Nandahttp://www.flickr.com/photos/viknanda/ CC BY-SA 2.0 I think I've reached some cathartic, metacritical state of being in regard to church. I'm not at peace, but I am accepting reality. I am in process of reaching catharsis. Unfortunately, there's no verb to describe this. "Cartharticing" sounds like something for which a soldier would be court marshalled. As I recently posted,

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-30785804841095939872013-03-18T09:02:00.000-05:002013-03-21T19:26:38.973-05:00

Credit: Daniel Horacio Agostinihttp://www.flickr.com/people/dhammza/ CC BY-SA 2.0 I've had a small amount of formal theological training. Based upon that small bit of training, I've accomplished quite a lot of self-training in theology. I've read many of the major writers, particularly in New Testament studies: Jarvell, Bultmann, Dunn, Wright, Witherington III, Hays, and L.T. Johnson all

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-47138567167893682492013-03-15T09:02:00.000-05:002013-03-15T11:35:41.301-05:00

Credit: Sean Dreilinger http://www.flickr.com/photos/seandreilinger/ CC BY-SA 2.0 I have no coffee. I need coffee. I went to the store late last night to grab a few things and I didn't remember that I'd used the last of the coffee yesterday morning. Now, I'm trying to get by on a Diet Coke and it's just not working. Last night was long. The Queen Bee had a fever last night and went to bed

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-30629051291145133242013-03-14T10:53:00.000-05:002013-03-15T09:07:38.248-05:00

Credit: Özgür Mülazimoglu http://www.flickr.com/people/mulazimoglu/ CC BY-SA 2.0 I'm a big fan of Flannery O'Connor; she's definitely one of my favorite writers, and lately I've been revisiting some of her short stories. I don't claim to have any great incite into literature. I read more from the heart than I do the brain, so I suspect that I miss out on a lot of things that an author is doing

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-72870470490438509212013-01-31T09:02:00.000-06:002013-08-02T11:34:26.266-05:00

Gypsy-father: Are you a little bit of a punk. Queen Bee: No. Gypsy-father: Are you a lot o' bit of a punk? Queen Bee: No. Gypsy-father: Well, what are you? Queen Bee: Jesus. Gypsy-father: [Expression of intense confusion.] Queen Bee: Actually, little girls are not Jesus but they are queen bees.

Brianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03688900704368712526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-75278801569435913532013-01-25T09:02:00.000-06:002014-07-06T13:45:13.768-05:00

Credit: Maggie Osterberghttp://www.flickr.com/photos/mediawench/ CC BY-SA 2.0 I know that the act of disciplining my daughter makes me a better father than otherwise. It makes me a better person--someone willing to act when things need action. In the broad scheme of things, the small theatre of my life may not have the impact of people like Caesar Chavez or Rosa Parks, but action is no less

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-19454110814849699212013-01-24T09:02:00.000-06:002013-01-24T09:02:00.192-06:00

Credit: William Warby http://www.flickr.com/photos/wwarby/ CC BY-SA 2.0 The Queen Bee has entered into a phase where she really wants to test the boundaries. What Sebastian the crab said of teenagers applies to my little pre-K student: you give them an inch, they swim all over. Often, if she is well-behaved, we'll watch an episode of Seinfeld before she goes to bed. (Her favorite episode

Brianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03688900704368712526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-82631273711854928552013-01-21T09:02:00.000-06:002013-01-21T09:20:27.108-06:00

"Over the past two weeks, Flacco beat Peyton Manning and Tom Brady to get to the Super Bowl. Maybe he will be recognized as an elite quarterback." It's been a while since I sat down for a blog post, but all the attention football receives during the NFL playoffs has irked one of my pet peeves just enough to bring me back from blogging exile (at least for a single post). In the last decade, the

Brianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03688900704368712526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-90617819056137672642012-10-13T09:02:00.000-05:002012-10-13T09:18:05.821-05:00

Credit: Steve Featherhttp://www.flickr.com/photos/7317295@N04/CC BY-SA 2.0 This morning, I woke up a little after seven because I forgot to turn off my alarm clock for the weekend. If I remember turn off my alarm clock, it usually means that I sleep until a little after 7:30--about the latest the Queen Bee can stay in her bed (she's an early worm). I forgot to buy coffee. Last night, I even

Brianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03688900704368712526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-56287193454192392622012-10-10T09:02:00.000-05:002012-10-10T09:06:20.176-05:00

Credit: Holly Hayeshttp://www.flickr.com/photos/sacred_destinations/CC BY-SA 2.0 If you identify as a Christian, as I do, then the Bible tends to be an important part of life. I wish that I could admit to reading the Bible a lot, but rather I must admit that these days my interaction with Faulkner tends to be greater than my interaction with the Bible. (I also wish I could admit to feeling

Brianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03688900704368712526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-87611243244924210152012-09-02T09:02:00.000-05:002012-09-02T09:52:15.911-05:00

I've been fascinated with mounting climbing since I was a teenager--when I first read Into Thin Air. I suppose I could trace my fascination with mountain climbing back to the books by Jack London I read in my even younger days: Call of the Wild and White Fang. Or, to draw this out as long as possible, maybe it was growing up in western Oklahoma, a land epitomizing the geometric plane. Oklahoma,

Brianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03688900704368712526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-80495207249994916582012-08-27T09:02:00.000-05:002012-08-27T09:02:00.317-05:00

A couple of years ago, the Queen Bee started attending a day school for five hours a day, two days a week. After a few months, she began attending the day school three days a week and this has been our norm until the beginning of this month when my marvelous little girl entered the world of public education. I think it was a much bigger step for Gretchen and I than it was for the Queen Bee. Her

Brianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03688900704368712526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-1764020682200334942012-08-15T09:02:00.000-05:002013-08-02T11:34:47.980-05:00

Scene--Backyard under the canopy of three large pecan trees; Gypsy-father is hanging laundry on the line as the Queen Bee wanders about. Queen Bee: [picks up a stick, fallen from a pecan tree, off of the ground; it is approximately a yard in length]                        Daddy, I found that new stick that I gave you yesterday.

Brianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03688900704368712526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-6707189928821495332012-06-06T11:47:00.000-05:002012-06-06T11:47:23.597-05:00

If you happen across here and things are a mess, it's because I'm working on some changes to my blog.

Brianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03688900704368712526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-12031671907635701732012-06-05T09:02:00.000-05:002012-06-15T11:12:49.671-05:00

Credit: Douglas Sprott http://www.flickr.com/photos/dugspr CC BY-SA 2.0 The yellow building on the left houses  Eissalon Tuchlauben. It seems that I miss Vienna the most once the high, oppressive temperatures of the Oklahoma summer emerge. There have been a couple of hot days here and there already this year, but this week the prediction from the weather fortune tellers is

Brianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03688900704368712526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6501408082410554168.post-31400144584528090772012-06-03T11:24:00.000-05:002012-06-03T11:27:21.307-05:00

A small lake in Ethiopia. We went out ona row boat with questionable seaworthiness. This is the last of my post inspired by Memorial Day weekend. I meant to post this yesterday, but I didn't get a chance to finish writing it. At church last Sunday, after the singing of a few patriotic songs, the sermon--with the assistance of power point--highlighted some of the major conflicts of the

Brianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03688900704368712526noreply@blogger.com2