Atari Attacks!

This week has been far too serious. So I'm taking a break from things today with a short film that shows what happens when classic video games run loose on the streets of New York. Look for cameo appearances by Donkey Kong, Pac-Man, and the Space Invaders.

Question of the Week: Family

How close and warm is your family? Do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people's?

I would not call my family close or warm. I think that there are certain members of my family who would like to believe that we are. I think those family members are even capable of putting on a good face and are good at making things look warm and close. And maybe for them, things really are that way. But for me, it just isn't. Since Dad passed away, my desire to be around family has somewhat diminished. That's no reflection on my family. It really isn't about anything they've done or haven't done. My choice to become as withdrawn from everyone as I have was just that: my choice. They may not like it and I know they don't understand it. But it's how I've decided to deal with things. I know, probably not the healthiest thing in the world.

*Question of the Week comes from The Book of Questions by Gregory Stock, Ph.D.

Not Sure What to Say

Monday evening I wrote a post titled Divorce. I kept it anonymous because I spoke ill of one of the parties involved. The way I see it, in a forum such as this, people that I write about are completely unable to defend themselves. Tonight I'd like to address this post to that same anonymous man.

What is wrong with you?

First off, let's deal with your temper. It's one thing to go after a man that you blame for a lot of your problems. I can understand a jealous rage. I can understand punching someone in a moment of insanity. I can't condone it, but I can understand it. Why can't I necessarily condone it? You're a grown man. You are in charge of your own actions. You're supposed to be responsible for those actions as well. But you, as yet, have refused to take that responsibility for those actions. Your rage has grown continually worse. Grabbing your oldest son by the neck in a fit of your own frustration? Shoving your wife during another of your heated arguments? You're crossing a line there.

So now you're out of the house. Your wife finally got the nerve to stand up to you before you could throw her under the bus yet again. She took action before you could find some trivial reason to get rid of her first. And her reason for getting you out of the house? Because she was genuinely afraid of how you would continue to treat her and your children.

And then what did you do once you were out of the house? You had your wife's car repossessed because you haven't been making payments on it for months. Do you know what that does to her and to your children?

What else did you do? Oh, you had your children's grandfather arrested right in front of them. For poking you in the chest. Is that the way you get revenge on your wife for getting a dangerous man out of the house? By the way, that dangerous man is you, Mr. Anonymous. Your kids know that you had their grandfather arrested. What does that do to their opinion of their father?

You know, I thought I knew you. Just a few weeks ago, you again called me your brother. I called you one of my best and closest friends. But after witnessing these things that you're capable of, I wonder if I ever knew you at all. Was the nice guy thing just an act? Gotta say, you're a good actor. Your true colors have shown you for who you truly are now.

Finally, I want you to know something. No more questions. No more trying to figure out what's snapped inside of you to make you into this hateful, vindictive, selfish person you've become. I want you to know that I'm still praying for you. My prayers for you have changed. I'm praying that God will soften your heart. I'm praying that you will open your eyes and see exactly how much damage you are causing, not only to your kids, but to yourself. I'm praying that you will see how much pain you are causing those around you. I'm praying that you will find yourself in a place where you actually care about the consequences your actions are having. I pray that God will radically change whatever is going on in your heart.

A Word From The Simpsons

The other day, a woman came to the bank and informed us about a new upscale retirement community. It's amazingly expensive and there's no way I'll ever be able to afford to put my mother or even myself in such a place. But her speech brought to mind this classic clip from The Simpsons. Enjoy...

Life Story: Chapter Forty Three

Where was I? Oh, yeah... I got sick. I lost a completed meal. Therefore, all the hard work and hard eating I had done in the previous weeks was negated. And it only got worse from there.

My doctors and counselors, they stopped trusting me. They believed that I was making myself sick so I could stop gaining weight. But as I've explained before, that's not how this thing worked for me. See, they had a textbook definition of what an eating disorder was supposed to be, and that's just not where I fit. They didn't know how to truly deal with me. But I guess they did the best they could.

With the evidence that they saw, they felt the need to assign me to "one-on-one," meaning that someone had to watch me 24/7. They also installed a feeding tube. For those of you who have never had the pleasure of having one of these things shoved into your body, count your blessings. It was the most unpleasant experience of my young life. And if you're squeamish, you may want to skip ahead a bit. What they do is they shove this long plastic tube down your esophagus by going through the nose. It's not fun. I wouldn't suggest trying it.

But through this feeding tube, I was constantly fed a liquid diet of a substance called Sustacal. They gave me an option of which flavor I wanted: vanilla or chocolate. Not that it really mattered. It's not like I was actually tasting it as it slid down the plastic tube in my throat. I could smell it though. I guarantee I'll never drink the stuff voluntarily. Nor will I drink its more popular counterpart: Ensure. They smell the same.

So I'm on this "one-on-one" thing. One day I was carted up to our eating disorder group therapy session. I listened to the same things over and over again. I never thought of myself as better than any of the other people in the group. But I couldn't help but be confused by the constant rehashing of the same issues over and over again. I knew I had problems, and I knew that these people were trying to help me the best that their so-called "educated" minds could come up with, but this group was not the way.

But that's not the point of today's story. At some point during our session, I had to go to the bathroom. That urge just hit. And it shouldn't have been a big deal. It was just the number one. I'd be in and out, no problem. But the counselors were only women. Therefore, they wouldn't be allowed to follow me to the bathroom to make sure I wasn't going in there to make myself vomit. Problem was, Kevin, my one-on-one assignee for the day had stepped out, thinking I'd be watched just fine while in group counseling.

So they refused to let me go to the bathroom. Did you catch that? REFUSED! I was a 14 year old kid with, what they considered to be, a severe eating disorder. For days they had been pumping me full of liquid sustenance nonstop. Something had to give. So I lost control of my bladder right there on their nice, clean sofa. I don't think I had ever been more humiliated in my life.

A lot of extremes happened in the hospital. That's the most uncomfortable and most humiliated moments all in one posting.

Anyway, a few days later, I returned to that wonderful group again to face all those wonderful people who, in essence, forced me to piss in my pants. Do you know what my counselor had the nerve to do? She turned the incident around on me, making it into a nice psychological topic of conversation. She told me that I was pissed off about my situation. Oh, gee, ya think?! Of course I was pissed off. Pretty sure if my folks had been aware of our little lack of bathroom break, they'd have jerked me out of that hospital in a heartbeat. They didn't find out for about a week. But by then, it was time for me to go home anyway. Don't worry, I'm getting there.

Divorce

As the perpetual bachelor among each of my circles of friends, I’ve witnessed just about all of the best and worst that relationships have to offer. As the guy that sits back and watches, I’ve had the unique opportunity to see the full life cycle of a lot of relationships. I’ve seen relationships begin as two people have a love that blossoms and they become annoyingly sweet with one another. I’ve seen relationships grow and flourish under difficult circumstances. I’ve seen relationships collapse and crumble under their own weight.

At times it can be inspiring to watch as friends seem to make all the right decisions with each other. These are the rare people that actually make me slow down and rethink my stance on the ridiculous notion of soul mates. It’s equally as inspiring to watch two people who seemingly have nothing in common battle against the odds and prove the naysayers wrong by working hard and making a relationship work. On the other hand, it is incredibly heartbreaking to watch as two people can move from a place of love and trust to a place of complete disdain and hatred.

I’m trying to wrap my head around something, so bear with me. Over the last couple of years I’ve watched a marriage slowly and steadily decline. At first, on the surface, things looked okay. But as I got closer and scratched that surface, I saw that one half of the relationship fought hard to do what she believed to be the godly thing in order to hold the family together, despite the way she was being treated by the other half of the relationship, who remained blessedly ignorant of any wrongdoing on his part.

Eventually, after so many years of fighting for unity, it looked like one half was ready to give up. I watched, as it looked like the other half finally realized that he had been making the same mistakes over and over again for years and was ready to turn himself around. He looked as if he was prepared to become the kind of husband and father that God had expected him to be. And while he did, in fact, change his behavior with his children, his actions and attitudes toward his wife remained stubbornly harsh and controlling. The change in his life that he claimed to be from God seemed, really, to stem from a place of fear: fear of losing control; fear of losing his family.

I have watched over recent months as this man would sit down with anyone who would listen and plead with them. He would cry to them. He would convincingly tell them that all he has ever wanted was reconciliation with his wife and to save his family from being torn apart. Meanwhile, at every turn and every opportunity, he would throw his wife under the bus. Every word and every action from this man toward his wife has been filled with hate. These are not the actions of a man who wants to reconcile his marriage in a godly manner. He’s a man who has refused to take responsibility for any of his own actions, but instead chooses to blame others for the path that he’s been on.

I know what the Bible says about divorce. I know that Malachi 2 specifically says that God hates divorce. But how can I sit by and look at this as a black/white issue where there is simply one way that’s right and one way that’s wrong. There are so many shades of gray involved here that it would make your head spin. How can I sit back and tell a friend, who has been mistreated and abused emotionally and psychologically for years, that divorce is wrong? How can I tell her that this is what God wants for her life, that no matter how bad things are, she needs to stick it out? I can’t, in good conscience, tell her that staying and living a miserable life and being treated as a sub-human is the right way to go here.

I’m at the end of my rope. As a friend, I have a really difficult time sitting back and watching as someone I care about being treated unfairly and unjustly. I feel completely inadequate as a friend to continually offer platitudes and prayers, but there’s really nothing else that I know to do in this situation. Anyone out there reading this, if you know of some way to help a mother who seemingly has no options and no choices of her own, then your thoughts and your prayers are appreciated.

Mentor

It's a devastating thing, finding out that someone you looked up to has fallen from grace.

I had someone like that in my life. From the time I was just 15, this man took me in. He made me a part of his family. He saw potential in me that no one else cared to look for. He saw more than a problem kid that got packed up and shipped from foster home to foster home. He saw more than a boy who had a tendency to rebel against anything that would stand still long enough to be rebelled against. He saw the man I would become.

Joe was a pastor. His church was one of those small places that met in an old storefront downtown. They weren't a big congregation, but they were good people. From what I could tell, they were genuine people. Joe brought me in one Sunday morning and introduced me to the crowd. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want a bunch of holy rollers looking at me and judging me. But they didn't.

To them I was just a lost kid who needed to be loved. And love is exactly what they showed me. For the first couple years I stayed skeptical. But Joe was persistent. He was constantly on my case about my grades. He was always hovering around me whenever I had free time, expecting me to make good decisions and getting in my face whenever I made a bad one. But he never came down on me in a way that made me feel like he was angry or resentful. Everything he said and did came from a place of real love.

I finally understood where that love came from the day I accepted Christ as my Lord and Savior. I understood what it meant to reach out to a lost soul in love. I understood that Christ had called Joe to reach out to me, to teach me, to disciple me and bring me to Him. I understood that Christ had called me to do the same thing for someone else, to share the love that was shown to me.

I'm 25 years old now. After I graduated from high school I went to college. Joe helped me to find ways to pay for it. All through my four years at Tech, I kept in touch with Joe. He kept asking all the same tough questions that he liked to ask. I kept giving him the honest answers, whether it was what he wanted to hear or not. Slowly, though, we drifted apart.

I didn't forget about the things that he taught me. I never forgot how to love strangers the way he showed me to. I guess I just forgot to keep thanking him for showing me what God's grace looked like.

Imagine my shock when I found out that Joe had walked away from his ministry. An old friend from that small church called me up last week and told me all about the drama that had unfolded over recent months. Joe walked out on his church. He walked out on his family. He walked out on God.

I thanked my friend for letting me know. If for nothing else, so that I could at least pray for my old mentor. But as I hung up the phone, I was hit with a crisis of faith. If this man who had shown me so much in my life, who had laid a foundation and built so much upon it, could drop everything and just walk away, how much of it was real?

So I prayed. I dropped to my knees and I prayed to the God that I know is real. I prayed to the God that I knew would hear my prayers. I prayed to the God that I knew was in my life, shaping me and molding me, and would continue to do so for as long as I had breath. My crisis of faith melted away. It didn't matter what Joe had done in the past or in the present, or what he would do in the future. The same God that led Joe to me is the same God that would lead me to Joe.

Joe was my mentor. He was a man that taught me so much about the character and nature of God. I had to admit that there was a very real possibility that all that time, Joe was just talking the talk. He may have known the right things to do and to say in order to put on a good mask for the world to see. Maybe his faith was really dead on the inside. Maybe it wasn't though. It's not for me to say.

All I know is what I know God is calling me to do right now. He's calling me to find my old friend and mentor. He's calling me to reach out to him in love, the same way he reached out to a problem kid that got packed up and shipped from foster home to foster home. God isn't done teaching me, and I have a feeling He's not done teaching Joe either.

Clash of the Titans

I remember watching the original version of Clash of the Titans over and over again as a kid. We recorded it when it was on the Disney Channel once and I kept the VHS tape near the VCR for a long time. I remember being terrified of Medusa and the Stygian Witches with their crazy shared eye. But to balance it out, I developed a small crush on Andromeda. Not sure if it's the really bad special effects or the epic mythical story, but something about that movie makes it a classic.

So they remade it. The trailer I saw for it a few months ago got me excited, even though I try to stay skeptical about remakes for as long as possible. But when Liam Neeson, as Zeus, says "Release the Kraken!" it's hard to not get excited.

Today I made the trip to the theater and saw the 2010 version of Clash of the Titans. As one who loved the original as a kid, I can safely say I was not disappointed. The story is slightly different, but the main ideas remained the same. The effects were awesome to say the least. But it's really easy to call special effects awesome after there have been 29 years of advances made in movie making technology.

Sam Worthington plays the part of Perseus, originally played by Harry Hamlin. Now, I'm not sure how big a fan I am of Worthington yet. He's now been in three very high profile movies in the last year. I guess Hollywood loves him, but I'm just not that impressed. I'm not saying he did a bad job in this movie, I just don't buy his appeal.

If you're looking for a call back to the old school Titans, we get a glimpse of the mechanical owl near the beginning of Perseus' quest. Sadly, the owl gets no more screen time than that. Oh, and the Kraken looks much more menacing this time around. It used to just look like a giant version of the Creature from the Black Lagoon.

By the way, I feel that I should specify that I saw the movie in all its 2-D glory, as it was originally meant to be seen. I'm sure you've seen all the amazing ads telling you to see this movie in 3-D, but don't be fooled. This was not a movie that was filmed specially to be seen in 3-D. This was a movie that was altered in post-production to take advantage of the 3-D fad that seems to be foolishly sweeping the globe thanks to Avatar and every single animated movie that comes out these days. 3-D is a gimmick; one that I hope goes away soon. Depth is highly overrated. We get enough of it in real life. Watching flat moving pictures helps us to separate entertainment from reality.

The original Clash of the Titans is actually available to watch via Netflix online. I may watch it tonight for the purposes of nostalgia.

Question of the Week: It's For Charity

An eccentric millionaire offers to donate a large sum to charity if you will step--completely naked--from your car onto a busy downtown street, walk four blocks, and climb back into the car. Knowing that there would be no danger of physical abuse, would you do it?

A large sum of what? Money? Tangerines? Pencil erasers? This is a very non-specific kind of question. And to which charity would we be donating the erasers? Is it a charity of my choice? That may effect my decision. And what city's downtown area are we talking about? 4 blocks in Roanoke, VA is a lot different than 4 blocks in Manhattan.

What it comes down to is that I wouldn't do it. And believe me, any charity would be thanking me for making the choice to remain clothed, no matter how many erasers they could have gotten from the crazy rich guy.

*Question of the Week comes from The Book of Questions by Gregory Stock, Ph.D.

Reasons Why Pizza Delivery Is Better Than Banking

Tonight, as I was working my second job, I noticed that this part time delivery gig holds several advantages over my day job. The following are listed in no particular order...

• On average, I can earn more in an hour delivering pizza than I can in an hour working at the bank.
• Little kids get excited when they see my car pull up in their driveway. Tonight a little kid, no older than 5, ran out of the house screaming, "THE PIZZA MAN!" No one ever gets excited about seeing me at the bank. I've yet to hear anyone screaming "A BANK TELLER!"
• Again on the money issue... At the end of a night delivering pizza, I can walk away from the job with cash in my pocket. Doing that at the bank leads to being arrested.
• Shall we talk about discounts? With the pizza delivery, I get 50% off no matter how many pizzas I want to buy. With the bank, I can get a discounted interest rate on a loan. But first I have to be approved for the loan. And then, I still have to pay it back with interest, just not as much interest as the average customer. Those loan payment coupons do not make a good meal. You know what does? Pizza.
• Pizza customers always seem really grateful. Even the ones that don't tip very well are still happy to see me. I brought dinner. Bank customers are occasionally grateful, but mostly they complain because I wasn't fast enough or I did something wrong or they want to blame me for something that someone else did wrong. Tellering is really a thankless job. I never get tipped at the bank, BTW. That's also illegal.
• If something awkward happens between me and another coworker at the pizza place, it's okay. 'Cause in just a few minutes time, I'll be out in my car driving a pizza to its new home. And there's a good chance I won't see that coworker anymore because we're like two ships passing in the night. At the bank, if something awkward happens with a coworker, I'm stuck there for the next 8 hours. That can, some the times, make for an uncomfortable day.
• Okay, let's score one for the bank industry... The Girl in the White SUV...

There you have it. I hope you've enjoyed this insight into what it's like to work these two jobs and to live in these two worlds.