Witty Witness

On November 28th, 2016, a devastating wildfire roared through the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, injuring some 200 people and claiming the lives of 14 more. Economic damage estimates due to the fire, were over $500 million. To natives and visitors alike, seeing images of the charred mountains they loved, was heartbreaking. It was like nothing our generation had endured prior. All hope seemed lost.  On January 20th, 2020, the first case of Covid-19 was reported in the United States. Since that day, some 2 million people have been infected and well over 100 thousand Americans have died from the illness. To citizens and foreigners alike, seeing images of overcrowded hospitals with the sick and suffering, was heartbreaking. It was like nothing our generation had endured prior. All hope seemed lost. This past weekend, Amber and I went to Gatlinburg for a couples retreat. The group activities on Friday night were great, but the Saturday drive and hike alone together, were a...

The birds sing louder and the world is more still first thing in the morning. Sitting on the front porch alone, I sipped my morning coffee, and rocked in one of the chairs we inherited from Amber's grandparents. My mind was completely clear and uncluttered from emails and phone calls that had yet to begin. Hearing the rain begin to fall, my attention shifted to a plant in our front flower bed. Looking down, I watched as the stems of the plant stretched high into the air to catch the rain. Like arms reached upward, the petals caught the drops of rain and carried the needed water to it's core. It's almost as if the flower was uniquely designed and made to catch the life sustaining water it needed. It's not easy being a plant in a busy neighborhood. Kids occasionally stomp on you, bike tires roll over you, and the dogs are always...well, it's not easy being a plant in a busy neighborhood. However, Amber always assures the soil is fertile and the occasional Miracl...

" I thought it would feel different or be easier to deal with at this point, but I still miss him everyday. " I typed those words 10 years ago tonight. It was the eve of the one year anniversary of my grandfather's death, and I was broken and lost. Not just lost like I took a wrong turn or missed my exit along life's journey, but completely and totally lost and without a compass...or hope for that matter. Alone, yet sitting in the basement of the wonderful home I shared with my beautiful wife and amazing 1 year old son, I typed the words above.  Fast forward some 3 years from that night, and you'd find me crushed and crying again. Sitting beside my wife in a hospital bed, mourning the loss of a son that was supposed to share my name, and my love of baseball. A son I'd never hold alive in this lifetime. Needless to say, it's taken  some time to type these words tonight..."I'm ok." As you read this, you may rec...

Finley Peter Dunne was a writer born in the mid to late 1800's. More specifically, he was a journalist, humorist, and editor with numerous Chicago newspapers. If you are a baseball fan in the least, you are no doubt familiar with the term "south paw," which refers to a left-handed pitcher. You likely did not know that Dunne is the man credited with coining the term. Born to Irish immigrants, the characters in Dunne's writing spoke with a thick verbiage and Irish accent. There is a great line from that style of Dunne's writing, which was reworded a bit, and used in the 1960 film, "Inherit the Wind." The line from the film is, "Mr. Brady, it is the duty of the newspaper to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable." It wasn't until the mid 1980's that the above phrase began to show up in sermons to describe God's mercy and judgement. Uttered different ways, some versions state the "gospel" "comforts the...

"Hey kids, look at the stars!" From the drivers seat, I glanced up at the rear view mirror, to gauge their response. Absent any noticeable reaction, I instead saw my three kids sitting shoulder to shoulder in the back seat of my jeep, bundled up with jackets and blankets that they had each brought from home. With the top down tonight, the cold fall air stung the top of my head where hair once grew. I can't say if genetics, my kids, or an anxious mind contributed most to my hair loss, but one thing was certain, the rush of wind coming over the front windshield was anything but warm. On a whim tonight, Amber and I decided to take the kids downtown for dinner and ice cream. This is certainly not our normal Tuesday evening routine, which made the night that much more special and exciting for all of us. On the way home, I tried not to drive distracted by looking up at the night sky, but I couldn't help myself, it was beautiful. Leaving downtown, however I was somew...

We slipped in a booth at the back of the crowded Panera Bread. As we ate lunch,  I listened as one of my friends talked about his childhood. Specifically my friend told me about his father growing up. "He was a wonderful example of a Christian man," he started. "I never looked up in the stands in all the years I played soccer, and saw an empty seat. He never missed a match. He was always there for me." I smiled listening as my friend went on and on about his dad. Then something occurred to me in that moment....my son will be having similar conversations about me in a restaurant booth somewhere many years in the future. Then I panicked. What kind of dad am I? How will I be remembered in the recesses of my son's mind?   Will my son call me a "great example of a Christian man?" Will he be able to speak about me with love and affection, and say I was there when it mattered? I've heard it said we should think about our eulogy and what we want said a...

At a leadership conference I attended recently, the facilitator of the afternoon session told the room the following story (paraphrased from my memory)... "A man was walking down the road when he came across another man busting up rocks with a sledge hammer. The man working in the heat of the afternoon cussed and grumbled as he broke up the large rock. When the man walking down the road stopped and asked the man what he was doing, he replied that he was busting up rocks for some stupid reason, and he couldn't wait for 5 o'clock to arrive so he could leave this awful employment and go home. The man walking down the road walked a little farther and came across another man busting up rocks with a sledge hammer. The man working in the heat of the afternoon was grumbling a bit, but didn't seem quite as ill tempered as the man he had just met. When the man walking down the road stopped and asked the man busting up rocks what he was doing, he replied he was reducing the...

Her name was Angela, at least that was the name she was given, the name on the plaque I read carefully in the hot Jamestown sun. Jamestown was the first permanent English settlement on the coast of Virginia in the early 1600's. I recently took my kids on vacation there for the last week of summer break. It turns out, my kids hate history, but love Busch Gardens. Who knew? I on the other hand, found myself captivated by the place, especially the story I learned about the life of "Angela." She was one of the first Africans to arrive in English America. Her life there wasn't easy, her journey to even arrive, was just as sad and brutal. She was just one of thousands of Africans captured in Angola by the Portuguese. In 1619 she was placed on a slave ship bound for Veracruz on the coast of Mexico. The ship never arrived. The slave ship Angela was on, was attacked by two English ships in the Gulf of Mexico and plundered of 60 "human cargo." Angela was one of tw...

Rushing out the door to her car, she looks down at her watch. She's already late. Her boss has warned her repeatedly about her habitual tardiness. If she didn't have to tell her seven year old ten different times to get out of bed, perhaps the morning routine wouldn't be so hectic and so stressful. A mile and a half from school, the brown haired boy in the back seat has a confession, "Mom, I forgot my library book and my spelling words." Her lunch break was already going to be rushed and abbreviated today, and now she'll spend her only hour of alone time, doing what her son should have done this morning. This evening, it's homework, baseball practice, baths, and bed. Some days it's more than she can handle. As a single mom, she wonders how much more she can take. Who is going to be strong for her? When will she ever get a break? Struggling to fall asleep, she can't shake the thought, "I'm just not enough."  It wasn't like...

"The only way you can change your man, is if he is wearing a diaper." I stumbled upon that quote recently on social media and despite men being the butt of the joke (pun intended), I admittedly found a lot of humor in the statement. Often times in relationships, we think we can somehow force or even coerce people to be different. 100% of the time however, we will fail. To the chagrin of ladies everywhere, none of you hold nearly that much authority or control over the opposite sex. Sure, we can influence the lives of others positively or negatively in many ways, but we certainly can't change that person into something else...into someone else. Not truly and not completely. I remember as I kid, I loved going to the zoo. The animals were great, but like most kids I loved the gift shop and souvenirs as well. I'm not sure about the zoo where you live, but the zoo closest to where I grew up, had machines scattered throughout the park, where for a small fee you ...

"Maybe it's too soon to say I love you." I don't remember every word from the Valentines Day card, but I vividly remember reading the words, "Maybe it's too soon to say I love you." To be clear, it was WAY too soon. Amber and I had only been dating a few weeks and equally important to share, we were only 15 years old at the time. Like I said, it was WAY too soon. However, it didn't occur to me at the time to be a premature utterance, and strangely I felt the exact same way. I loved Amber. At least "love" as a 15 year old knows what love is. Throughout our relationship since that February in 1996, we've had some truly amazing moments and experiences. We also had our fair share of gut wrenching difficulties as well. You see, it's easy to say "I love you." Words take little effort. Even toddlers can form the phrase, "I love you." Admittedly, it does in fact mean a lot when someone truly and genuinely tells you, ...

"What is the first thing you want me to say to you when you hear?" the mother signed the question to her hearing impaired son. The chance that the cochlear implants wouldn't work, wasn't even in the realm of possibility. "My name" her son responded. "It's as though I haven't got a name, because I've never heard it before." Think about how many times you hear your own name throughout the day. If you are a parent, like me, it's about 250 times more than you'd prefer. Yet, this young boy pleaded to be able to hear his own name. The scene is heartbreaking and from the opening moments of the video, you can't help but root for the boy. I've seen many other videos like it. The family gathers around in a hospital room, while the doctor turns on the implants for the first time. The patient begins to hear, cue the tears of joy that slowly roll down his or her cheeks, and the room is filled with elation. Video fades to black....

Trust me when I tell you, he's as chill as a sloth in a hammock. Since law school, I've been drawn to the cool smooth sound of Scott Miller. Scott is a singer/songwriter from Virginia but more accurately, he is a magician with words and lyrics. If you've never heard his music, do so. Sometimes referred to as "country-alternative" or "folksy music," I don't think that quite fits, but I can't more accurately describe it. Whatever it is, its great. Being a big fan, I was ecstatic when Amber told me she bought tickets to see Scott at the Bijou Theater on January 26th. I immediately planned it all out in my head. We would have a relaxing Saturday, then dinner and drinks downtown, then the concert. Then....life happened. Two kids basketball games, dance class for our middle daughter, and a unexpected doctor's visit for our younger daughter. Our oldest finished the day with three three pointers, our youngest with a fever of 102.1. With childre...

As a bachelor that lives alone, my dad is the regular recipient of our family's leftovers. Tonight's after dinner drop off was Wasabi's. The food was delicious, but as usual, it was served in portions impossible for consumption in one sitting. "Dad, are you home? We are swinging by with leftovers," was the text I sent as we pulled out of the restaurant parking lot. Dad assured me he would be home, so with two boxes of rice in my lap, Amber drove our van toward dad's house. The headlights of our van caused light to flood the dim lit living room of dad's house. I could see him rise from his comfortable reclined position and make his way to the door. We met in the middle of the drive way. As I handed him the boxes of food, he handed me an envelope. I could tell his mood was somber. "Hey dad. How was your day?" Through tears he managed a heart felt, "I love you," and he turned to walk back inside. My dad has never been one to hide his...

If suits could talk, mine would say, "it's time to lose some weight." What better time of the year than New Years to commit to getting healthier and losing some weight. If you are like me, the "holidays" (liberally construed in my house as Halloween through New Years Day) can be quite difficult if you are trying to lead a healthy lifestyle. Too much food and too much drink, make the last quarter of the year a battle with the belt. So, when co-workers mentioned a fitness/weight loss challenge at work just after the New Year, naturally I was all in. I desperately needed to refocus my attention on eating less and exercising more. Stepping on the scale at the office for the Day: 1 weigh in, I knew the number would be ugly, but not even my middle school mullet photos were as scary as staring down at the digital...269.4. Yeah, the scale threw in the extra .4 just for good measure, in case any ounce of pride or self respect remained. I'd like to tell you it ...

December is the prime time for toy shopping. It's no surprise electronic devices are on the "Top 100 Toy List" once again this year. For children growing up in the 60's, 70's, and 80's, the "Etch a Sketch" was the closest thing to a tablet we could get our hands on. The bright red frame with two large white knobs at the bottom of each corner, is an immediately recognizable and iconic image. The design is brilliant in it's simplicity. If you've lived in a cave your entire life, Etch a Sketch is a mechanical drawing device for kids. Twisting the two knobs on each corner, caused a stylus on the inside of the toy to displace aluminum powder on the light grey screen, which in turn caused lines to form. Because one knob made the stylus move vertically and the other knob made the stylus move horizontally, creating diagonal lined works of art, was nearly impossible. Sitting alone in the floor as a kid, I was barely able to scratch out my name, ...

You better watch out, you better not cry Better not pout, I'm telling you why Santa Claus is comin' to town He's making a list and checking it twice Gonna find out who's naughty and nice Santa Claus is comin' to town He sees you when you're sleepin' He knows when you're a wake He knows if you've been bad or good So be good for goodness sake Even if I were to estimate conservatively, I'd say I've heard the song above over 1,000 in my life time. As a grown man now, with kids of my own, the words and the melody of the song take me back to my childhood. Lying in my bed each night leading up to Christmas, I envisioned all the presents stacked around the tree just for me. I was an only child for 9 years, so for nearly a decade, I was the only recipient of gifts at my house on Christmas morning. Then my younger siblings came along and ruined my one man band. My Christmas loot was divided in 4ths. Bah humbug.  Being the devious little m...

As I pulled into the crowded Kroger parking lot, I took my place in the long line of cars that were gridlocked near the front entrance. "I knew I should have taken the side entrance," I complained to myself. From my vantage point, I could see the gas pumps on the other side of the parking lot, I just couldn't quite get there. With each moment that passed, my gas gauge inched closer to empty. "Why did you wait so long to get gas? Are you some kind of mad man?" The Kroger fuel pumps seemed like a desert oasis off in the distance. "I'm an idiot. Why didn't I just take the side entrance?" A sea of red brake lights lit up the dim parking lot on the cold overcast day. This time of year, even lunch time feels like dusk. The hot exhaust from the cars meeting the frigid winter air, sent out clouds of heavy grey smoke. Then suddenly the sound of car horns could be heard over my XM Christmas music....