Birmingham Chronicles, Day 1
I gotta ask it: Is it okay to log on to your in-law's next-door neighbor's unsecured wireless network?
Anyway, yesterday was pretty much just a travel day. We couldn't pick up the girls from school until 12:30PM (mid-school mid-terms, which they seem to think they did "okay" on). After a quick bookbag dump-off, wardrobe change to comfy travel clothes, and a drive-thru Chick-Fil-A run, we're on the road by 1:30.
On Dallas traffic: Without H.O.V. lanes, it would've easily added another hour to our trip. When I'm in an H.O.V. lane and fit the H.O.V. qualifications, it makes my shoulders do a little happy dance in the driver's seat. When I'm not up to par, I curse their existence.
Our dog Lloyd has never been in a car for more than half an hour. He was certainly curious about the whole experience. He's known for sleeping and for finding the most liquid ways to sleep, but he was excited about everything, particularly big trucks...which I don't guess he'd ever seen before. It was like looking at a little boy who loves trucks...minus the little "hand pull" gesture to get the truckers to honk their horns. At one point, he actually laid down with his bone on the DVD player that straps on both front seats and wedges nicely between them.
The iPod and the DVD player that the iPod earbuds fit into have created a silence for the driver that I'm sure my parents never experienced. At one point, Tracy was doing a shoulder happy dance to Bowling for Soup's 1985, and the girls were watching 5 episodes of "Lost" back to back. Good time to clear the cobwebs from work and life and to pray and such, but at times I felt kinda lonely.
Open message to the folks at Willow Point Baptist Church in Shreveport: That billboard you have by the interstate. You know, that one with the bloody hand with a railroad spike in it? The one that reads, "This blood's for you." You know, that one? Yeah, my punk rock sensibilties like the "in your face" statement. But, yeah, my stomach turned looking at it. Kinda gruesome. And I wondered how many people came to your church because of it. And I wondered how many people's hearts and minds were stirred. I'm not saying take it down...I'm just saying it might ought to be re-thought.
There were times when I was looking for something on the radio. Anything. But you know, between Monroe, Louisiana and Vicksburg, Mississippi you can set your AM radio on scan and it won't stop. And the FM options were either country or rap. Hearing "Golddigger" in the middle of nowhere is pretty surreal. My shoulders did a horrible rap dance.
Tired teenagers will sleep from Jackson to McCalla after dinner. Wives will doze and crack jokes. Like when I asked her what she was going to listen to when she pulled out her iPod, she replied, "Anything other than you." At least, I think she was joking.
When the radio scanner stops on religious radio stations, I press "scan" again after about 5 minutes. My friend Larry Murcer, at one time a big-wig at Moody Bible Institute, once said about the American church, "The church is in trouble." He repeated it three times for emphasis. If late-night southern radio is the indicator, he couldn't be more correct.
Coming into my hometown brings mixed emotions. I couldn't wait to leave the place. But I have lots of fond memories here.
Arrival into your in-laws home makes you realize how much they miss us. After 10 hours and 14 minutes, door-to-door (and 672 miles--yes, I'm bordering on Chevy Chase when I get the family in the truckster and get on the road--gotta make good time), it's nice to have that reality in such a tangible manner.
I gotta ask it: Is it okay to log on to your in-law's next-door neighbor's unsecured wireless network?
Anyway, yesterday was pretty much just a travel day. We couldn't pick up the girls from school until 12:30PM (mid-school mid-terms, which they seem to think they did "okay" on). After a quick bookbag dump-off, wardrobe change to comfy travel clothes, and a drive-thru Chick-Fil-A run, we're on the road by 1:30.
On Dallas traffic: Without H.O.V. lanes, it would've easily added another hour to our trip. When I'm in an H.O.V. lane and fit the H.O.V. qualifications, it makes my shoulders do a little happy dance in the driver's seat. When I'm not up to par, I curse their existence.
Our dog Lloyd has never been in a car for more than half an hour. He was certainly curious about the whole experience. He's known for sleeping and for finding the most liquid ways to sleep, but he was excited about everything, particularly big trucks...which I don't guess he'd ever seen before. It was like looking at a little boy who loves trucks...minus the little "hand pull" gesture to get the truckers to honk their horns. At one point, he actually laid down with his bone on the DVD player that straps on both front seats and wedges nicely between them.
The iPod and the DVD player that the iPod earbuds fit into have created a silence for the driver that I'm sure my parents never experienced. At one point, Tracy was doing a shoulder happy dance to Bowling for Soup's 1985, and the girls were watching 5 episodes of "Lost" back to back. Good time to clear the cobwebs from work and life and to pray and such, but at times I felt kinda lonely.
Open message to the folks at Willow Point Baptist Church in Shreveport: That billboard you have by the interstate. You know, that one with the bloody hand with a railroad spike in it? The one that reads, "This blood's for you." You know, that one? Yeah, my punk rock sensibilties like the "in your face" statement. But, yeah, my stomach turned looking at it. Kinda gruesome. And I wondered how many people came to your church because of it. And I wondered how many people's hearts and minds were stirred. I'm not saying take it down...I'm just saying it might ought to be re-thought.
There were times when I was looking for something on the radio. Anything. But you know, between Monroe, Louisiana and Vicksburg, Mississippi you can set your AM radio on scan and it won't stop. And the FM options were either country or rap. Hearing "Golddigger" in the middle of nowhere is pretty surreal. My shoulders did a horrible rap dance.
Tired teenagers will sleep from Jackson to McCalla after dinner. Wives will doze and crack jokes. Like when I asked her what she was going to listen to when she pulled out her iPod, she replied, "Anything other than you." At least, I think she was joking.
When the radio scanner stops on religious radio stations, I press "scan" again after about 5 minutes. My friend Larry Murcer, at one time a big-wig at Moody Bible Institute, once said about the American church, "The church is in trouble." He repeated it three times for emphasis. If late-night southern radio is the indicator, he couldn't be more correct.
Coming into my hometown brings mixed emotions. I couldn't wait to leave the place. But I have lots of fond memories here.
Arrival into your in-laws home makes you realize how much they miss us. After 10 hours and 14 minutes, door-to-door (and 672 miles--yes, I'm bordering on Chevy Chase when I get the family in the truckster and get on the road--gotta make good time), it's nice to have that reality in such a tangible manner.
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