my careless contagion

This is a goodbye, and a hello. This will likely be my last post containing certain themes. It's not that I haven't let go. It's that some things still affect me. In all these things, my choice was to make things work. It was only with great reluctance that I was made to let go. I approached every relationship with kindness and patience. This isn't about healing. I will heal the rest of my life. Letting go is different. I had to try everything — and fail — first. It's a story that repeated. I was more than intentional. I showed up. I loved, was pushed away, and died over and over. Finally, I let go.  They say if a writer falls in love with you, you never die.  The last thing I remember was her small frame standing in the doorway crying. Fade Into You was playing from the turntable. The blonde girl walking on the dark street was so drunk, but when she saw me standing in the Ohio drizzle that night with nothing but the sodium lights illuminating us, she said something...

This is a new song, and it's pretty good. It sounds older than its release date of 2023. It got a lot of airplay, I didn't like it at first, but after about 10 listens it started to make sense (I may be a little slow). So much of country music is about drinking (thumbs down), but let's go with that for this post. Since I likely won't still be writing here regularly after the 28th, this is a good time for the annual sobriety post.  It was April 10 years ago when I stopped drinking. Every year I memorialize what God did in my heart then. It's nothing short of a miracle. It's a miracle I function. A miracle I'm still alive. I'm literally a walking miracle, and people walk by me like I'm some ordinary Joe. They have no idea.  A decade without drinking is a curious thing. It was supposed to kill me. Like I got a get-out-of-jail-free card. A new lease on life. A new life, new identity, new responsibilities. Alcohol was my way of ending myself, and slowly. ...

Once upon a time, I used to listen to quite a bit of urban music like rap. I was young once and my music was bumpin. 2Pac was one of those artists. I was quite upset when I heard he was murdered and even more upset by the average man's explanation of thug life, thug death. Man, how cold are you? Anyway, this song speaks about a life I don't really recognize, though we all have struggles. I can't say how much of it is art and how much is biographical. Only the artist knows.  I agree with the sentiment that something needs to change. Comparing this song to where we are now and when it came out, I'd say we went in the wrong direction. We've let those in charge of the world divide us even further. It's a shame. And why do we insist on calling those with differing melanin levels a different race? We're all one race. Don't let anyone tell you differently. Watch the words they make us use. Yes, there are cultural differences, I realize. But, the same God create...

Broken Bow, Nebraska. I moved there when I was 10 years old and moved away at 19. I saw a lot of changes in 9 years. I decided to take a trip there since I had some time and wanted to see if I could kick up anything from the past.  Sure, a lot of things came to mind. I started to recall some stuff right away. Some good, some bad. Some I wasn't sure what to do with. There certainly are some patterns that were set down here that persisted during my life, patterns for good and bad. I started reading my Bible as a boy in the house on the corner. I read that children's Bible until I bought my own. I used to play with my friend Geoff who lived next door. When I was told we were moving, I was watering my garden out back. I was told I could have another garden. I did. It was better, too. Sometimes change is hard, even if we're sure something will be better than what we have now. I'm still learning that.  We played basketball and football and baseball at that house. We had water...

Bad Religion's album No Substance was released about this time in 1998. The album was followed by a tour similar to how the band started: small venues with lots of young kids packed in. They said they wanted a more intimate experience like the old days. I saw Bad Religion that year at the Blind Pig in Ann Arbor, Michigan. I recall the band hanging out in the bar afterward, watching hockey and talking to fans. I'd say the band got the intimacy they desired. And I got to see a show I still remember even at the hoary age of 43.  I also recall feeling strangely old, wistful, and, frankly, sad before and after watching the band. Okay, watching isn't exactly the right word. You have to be an active participant at a Bad Religion show. You don't simply watch them play. You sing along. You mosh if you want (I was, perhaps, one body away from the band at this show). But you don't idly watch a punk rock show. You get thrown around. It's youthful fun.  Living in Bowling Gre...

Why is it so many of the hardcore songs I listened to in my youth have come true? From Guilty of being white by Minor Threat to Los Angeles is burning by Bad Religion, it's safe to say hardcore music is prophetic. So many spoke for so long about the direction we were headed. And now we're here. Rollins. Social Distortion. Face to Face. Samiam. Fugazi. The Descendents. If they had anything at all to say about society, it is seen as prophetic now. I could spend years just writing about this. We slid farther down the rabbit hole than I ever imagined. But I'm digressing already. The hardcore anthem Small man, big mouth by Minor Threat talks about a specific type of man. You know the type. He's small but he walks with his chest out, shooting his mouth off at every chance. He wears shirts that say things like, "It's not the size of the dog in the fight but the size of the fight in the dog." He's abrasive and looking for a fight. He has something to ...

In photography, trends come and go. When I was still taking photos, I was taught to have the sun behind me, but that causes some problems for the subject. If the subject is people, often they are squinting into the sun. If you can place them in the shade, then you have harsh shadows. If the day is overcast, then that produces other problems. A recent trend is to shoot into the sun, often with it producing a flare behind the subject, illuminating them from behind. That's all well and good, but often the subject is partially hidden by shadows and partially blown out by bright light. And then there is bokeh, the near-circles that splatter the photo, which is how the lens shows things that are out of focus, which is a pretty cool effect. As with everything, too much of a good thing can sometimes be a bad thing.  This is where I point out the similarity with my life. Much of my life has been — though lived fully — out of focus. It's there. I know I experienced it. But I can...

Graduation: a beginning and an end. But mostly a beginning because even the word commencement means more than just a ceremony; it means a beginning. The above photo was taken shortly after my high school graduation in 1996 (which looked a lot different from graduation this year, I must say). I'm on the right. The other two are Jeff and Michelle. The photo was taken for a short news story of importance because we had all come from Hot Springs and ended up in Broken Bow. We knew each other from one town and somehow all made our way to a different town in a different state, eventually graduating together. While Michelle is still my friend today (she's moving back to Nebraska soon), Jeff has gone under the radar and I'm not sure how to contact him. His father died a few years ago (right after his dad retired, I heard). His dad coached both my brothers. I recall him on school grounds before they moved with Jeff's younger brother. I instantly recognized him and wondered wh...