Andy's Blog

I have a huge dilemma on my hand. This dilemma is so large, I think I am going to lose some sleep over it tonight. It just hit me tonight, when watching the Cubs game, that I haven't been to a Cubs game at Wrigley Field in like 10 years (I think it was Sophomore year of high school). So I hit the web to find out a day I could fly up to Chicago to visit my brother and go to a Cubs game. But then it hit me...this is the last time I will ever have the chance to watch at game at Yankee Stadium. Oh boy...I am not really sure how I am going to sleep tonight.

To be fair, I hate the Yankees. I don't care who they are playing, I will be rooting for the other team. But there was so much history at Yankee Stadium. Babe Ruth. Willy Mays. Lou Gerhig. Hosting 37 of the total 84 World Series. Not to mention all the non-Baseball history. Pelé played Soccer there. Boxers have boxed there. Heck, Popes have spoken there.

So here's what I found out. I can fly up to New York on the morning of July 27th at 6:00 am, go to the 1:05 pm game against the Orioles, and then fly back to Atlanta at 7:00 pm. Baseball Tickets: $20.00 Plane Tickets: $219.00 Watching a game in Yankee Stadium: priceless?!?

It is no secret that I have sort of bucket-list already for my life, and I am not waiting until retirement to complete it. Why? Who knows if I'll make it to retirement! I think the mindset is a healthy one.

I have bought a home.
I have received a college degree.
I have watched a NASCAR Race from the Pits.
I have snorkeled in the Great Barrier Reef.
I have visited 47 states (almost my goal of all 50).
I have been to the Dome of Rock.
I have been at Times Square for New Years.
I have slept the night on the street in Pasadena to watch the Rose Bowl Parade.
I have kissed a girlfriend on the Eiffel Tower.
I have chased the pigeons in San Marco Square in Venice.
I have floated on the Dead Sea.
I have worshiped on Waikiki Beach at an Easter Sunrise service.
I have planted gardens in poverty stricken regions of South Africa.
I have built homes in Mexico and gymnasiums for orphanages in Honduras.

But should watching a game at Yankee stadium be on the list and is it worth $239.00.

I have to admit. If it weren't for the fact that I just spent way too much money earlier this month due to the unexpected vacation surprise, I would be a lot more willing to do it.

I guess I'll just sleep on it and hopefully not die in my sleep. Anyone want to join me?

I had to wake up at the ungodly hour of 7:45 am to take a friend to meet another friend to drive to a wedding in South Carolina. Of course, at that hour, I didn't want to talk, I just wanted to listen to the radio. So I turned to News/Talk 750 WSB and sure enough, Boortz was just starting his day.

What did he decide to open his rant about? The catcher who ducked and allowed the pitch to jack the ump in the facemask. Take a look.

Now, what you might not know is that this catcher lost his scholarship to the college he was planning on attending and his high school was fined $1,000 for the incident - which I don't particularly have a problem with. Scholarships are like the free-market: schools don't have any obligation to give them out.

But, of course, old-man Boortz¹ was going on and on about how he agreed with this and how people need to understand there are consequences for their actions. But it is precisely this reason why I think what this catcher did was brilliant.

The motivation for the incident was because they were unhappy with poor calls from the homeplate umpire. Now I was not at the game, so I do not know if this were true or not. But nevertheless, the pitcher & catcher perceived it to be the case, so they took the perceived poor actions of the ump and put some physical consequences to it: they jacked him in the face. Message received.

Now I know I am not the norm. I actually have no problem with Tony Stewart or Danica Patrick getting into a fight with a fellow auto racer who just put them into a wall. Or a bench clearing brawl when some pitcher jacked a batter in the head. Or two hockey players going at it because one hockey player told another hockey player his toothless smile was ugly. But this goes beyond sports...

We are a wussified country (yes I know I just made up a word). The same mentality that doesn't understand the importance of the Iraq War, or why the coddled generation is now in the workforce but thinks they are lazy, or that allows the seatbelt law to be in effect, is the same mentality that says "safety at all costs." We are trying to remove all consequence from actions. We want to be a white, vanilla, bland culture that's greatest virtue is safety and cordiality. We are a nations of pansies.

Not I though. I will take pride in the American history of sometimes saying, enough is enough, and because of your actions, there will now be physical consequences. Now, where's the nearest umpire...

I have wrestled with a question for years; probably since I was at least 8. It's an odd question, especially for an 8 year old. Ready?

Is death the only thing that makes life enjoyable?

As years past, and my belief in Christ grew, I have later rethought the following question this way: is eternal life really an eternal hell?

I very much enjoyed a short-lived show on Fox this past year called New Amsterdam. It was about a man (John Amsterdam) who had been alive since 1642, who couldn't age or die until he found his true love. Through out the centuries he married different women, held different jobs, but in the contemporary, he was a police investigator. Because of all this, the show had a weird modern crime fighting feel mixed with a quirky historical feel with a slight touch of a romantic comedy.

In the pilot, John asks the following question to his son (yes, his son is the older, half-black gentleman in the clip).

"To be human is to die. To die is what makes life worth living."

I remember being assigned a book to read in high school titled "Tuck Everlasting." I say be assigned because the only two things I remember about that book was: a.) not being able to participate in the Socratic Seminar because I was honest about my failure to read the book, and b.) the book was about people who found the secret to everlasting life and how they grew to resent it. I guess it was made into a movie in 2002 (which I was unaware of until writing this), and it's tagline sums it up: "If you could choose to live forever, would you?"

Seriously. I know I am like the worst minister ever because most of the modern presentation of the Gospel is built on the premise that all want to live forever. But that is not why I believe in the Gospel. Nor is it why I think you should believe in the Gospel. In fact, I often wonder if heaven is going to get boring after a while?

Think about it. If you never die, what motivates you? If you have unlimited amount of time to spend with your kids, do you still want to? If you don't have to eat to stay alive, do you still work? If you have just as much time to marry, or see the Pyramids, or watch the Cubs go the World Series today, as you did yesterday, why do any of those things matter?

The weird thing about it is that we don't really have a choice in this matter do we? We either are eternal souls, and as Colin Hay would say, "waiting for our real life to begin." Or, all there is to this life is the material, and when our 80 years or so are up, we're done. Not sure which is better, but I guess I shouldn't lie around and ponder for too long.

I should have known it was going to be like this. Friday, May 9: CJ and Andrea were scheduled to fly into Atlanta. The past week I had worked 67 hours to make sure everything was ready. Then on Friday, in the classic state of a "modern man," I cleaned the house, baked a cake, worked 8 hours, marinated chicken, paid bills, went grocery shopping, did laundry, and constructed a table. Why a table you asked? Because as I was moping my kitchen floor, I leaned on my old table and it split in half. So a run to Ikea and back at rush hour, and 30 minutes of drilling, bam a new table. That day was crazy. But little did I know it was just the beginning.

Here are some stats from the past 3 weeks:

• Miles Driven: 1,743
• Miles Flown: 1,543
• Money Spent Since May 9th: $1,954.64
• Money Spent Since May 16th (Asher's Arrival): $1,471.16
• Total Number of Different Beds Slept In: 7
• Total Number of Hospitals Visited: 3
• Total Time Spent in Hopsitals: 37 Hours

So what did I learn from all of this? Three things.

1.) Police in Charleston don't monitor parking meters, but they do make up stop signs for you to run through
It is true. I stopped paying the parking meters in Charleston, but this was only after I noticed that nobody else did either. Ironically, I was pulled over on by a bicycle cop (that's a first) for running a stop sign that wasn't there.

2.) Hospitals are disappointingly not like Scrubs
We all know I am a huge Scrubs fan. The whole time I was looking for a Crazy Janitor, or a Dr. Cox, or the Chief of Medicine. But nothing! There wasn't even a hot Dr. Reid anywhere. Although there were some hot nurses. This brings me to lesson #3.

3.) Married people are the absolute worst wingmen
Ok, so there was this hot girl who worked at the Ronald McDonald House where CJ and Andrea stayed. And so sure enough, Andrea goes to check out, and the girl asks about me. So she proceeds to tell her that I am a radio producer (good), my job is really flexible (good), and I am staying at the Motel 6. What the heck Andrea? Seriously!

No, he's such a good guy he rearranged his schedule to be here for three weeks. No, he's so great with our daughter Jadyn if he were just married we would consider making him the God-parent. No, he dropped $1,400 with out blinking an eye just to help us No, he's travelled the world and been to tons of exotic locations. No, None of that? Just, he's staying at the Motel 6?

Heck, I would have even taken the Motel 6 reference if you would have prefaced it with 1.) he's slept on so many floors in third world countries doing humanitarian and missionary work, the Motel 6 is like the Ritz or 2.) he stays at the Motel 6 now because he is good with money and he doesn't care and it means his wife and children won't have to stay at the Motel 6 when they travel, or 3.) all the hotels were full and/or ridiculously expensive due to the Memorial Day weekend festivities.

Married people everywhere, take a lesson from this Scrubs clip.

Ok, maybe not the drunken weekend part, but you get the idea. That is what we call a good Wingman.

But all and all, it was a great extended trip. We had a great time and was worth every second and penny. Here's a look back, through pictures.

When Allen, Glenn and I travel, we sometimes take Glenn's plane. What I enjoy about that is we always stop off at Waffle House before proceeding onto the airport. I love the contrast of sectors of life (for those who don't know, Waffle House is kind of "dumpy" - but awesome waffles). Well today topped that. Why? Because there aren't too many days you wake up in a Motel 6, only to board a private jet. And that isn't where the fun ended.

We all know I am an aviation nerd. So when Pete (CJ's boss) offered to send the private jet to pick up CJ and I in Charleston, I was ecstatic.

We show up at the airport with our jet and Andrea and Asher's jet sitting next to each other on the tarmac. I try and look smart by picking out which jet is which, but I end up just making myself look stupid by picking out the wrong one. Luckily for me, I covered well and said, "ohh I have just been following too many flights on FlightAware." This prompted the co-pilot (Wes) to say, "ohh, are you a pilot?" And I responded, "I am trying to be." He responded, "well then, we'll have you up to flight deck." I think, "Awesome."

Right as we are hopping onto the plane, Boeing's DreamLifter was taking off out of Charleston. 99.9% of you aren't going to know how cool that was, but for the aviation nerd, this was a very rare site. The plane is designed to transport large parts of the 787 from the factories around the world, to Boeing's factory in Seattle.

We take off and head directly to Fort Wayne. At about 12,000 feet (10 minutes into the flight), Wes comes back and asks if I would like to sit up front. I was thrilled. I sat down and for the next hour or so, sat at the controls. It was AWESOME!

Then the most amazing thing happened. The pilot (Steve) and I are listening to air traffic control (like we should be), and then all of the sudden we hear instructions to another plane reference Air Force One (President Bush's plane). Steve and I quickly look at each other with a "no-way" face. He said he has been flying for years and never been in the same airspace as Air Force One.

We landed directly into FWA around 12:05 - right behind Asher and Andrea's plane. Asher and Andrea hopped in the ambulance. Lisa was waiting to pick CJ and I up. Dropped off the luggage and then went to Lutheran Hospital.

All and all, quite an exciting morning. Maybe that is why I passed out for 3 hours this afternoon.

Well that's about it for now. I will update you on the three things I learned while in Charleston (preview: one of them is that married people suck at being wingmen). But for now, just thought I would update you on the awesome day I had.

It seems like a weird way to title a post about a child hanging on for life, you know? The Good Life? Really? I mean come on. CJ and Andrea are basically staying in a community house, 900 miles from home, and separated from their two year old daughter. I am staying in a Motel 6; five miles down the road. How is this the good life?

It seems weird, and I of course can't speak for CJ and Andrea, but this past week has been a reminder of the good life for me.

This past week, we have seen all that is good about the human race. CJ's company rallying around him. The owner of the company sending the jet to pick CJ and I up. Andrea's family racing down to help. A newborn baby, not only surviving an early birth, but doing better than expected.

But even amidst all the great examples of humanity living up to its divine potential, it is also the small moments this week that have been such a reminder of the good life...

Running to Sonic for a late night slushy and laughing all the way there...

Driving from Hilton Head to Charleston and making goofy videos on the laptop...

Talking about how all the nurse's have got to be confused at this point at the three of ours special relationship...

It almost feels like high school youth group all over again. Who would have thought 11 years ago, amidst having babies, buying houses, making money and "growing up," we would still be enjoying the simple things about our friendship.

And then of course there is Target. Andrea has been walking too much and needed a wheelchair. But when she gets up to look at stuff, CJ and I hop in to goof around. So of course he convinces me that I can lean back in the chair and won't fall backwards. Well, take a look...

You can even hear Andrea two aisles over in the background saying, "You okay there Andy?"

It's truly been a good week, and I got what I asked for, a great story.

The lyrics don't exactly fit our situation, but when I think of the overall mood and theme of this week, Francis Dunnery's Good Life is playing in the background.

Right where the 605 and the 210 meet in Los Angeles, I distinctly remember the billboard when driving back from the beach in Orange County. It was a CitiBank billboard and it had the following phrase: "Your college girlfriend called and wanted to remind you that you were once poor and happy." Even at 21, the phrase resonated somewhere deep within me and I have never forgot it.

Fast forward 4 years. If you would have told me about the job I have now and the money I am making and the lifestyle I am living back in 2004, I wouldn't have believed you. It's been a whirlwind couple of years. But am I happier? Was life not better from the cheap seats?

Don't get me wrong, I am sure life is incredibly more stressful when you can't pay the bills. When you worry about foreclosures and debt and providing the basics for your family. It's just an inevitable that life gets complicated as the years go on, but does that by definition mean life gets less happy?

This weekend was a pretty fun one for me. Friday night, Justin and I saw the Braves series opener against the Reds from our seats (the cheap seats). The Braves won, with Hudson pitching a 2-hit, complete game (you never see CGs anymore). On Sunday, my Uncle invited me to the series finale against the Reds at his seats (the good seats) which were 8 rows back from home plate (the photo to the left doesn't do it justice).

But it got me thinking; do better "seats" in life, mean a better life?

What I find unique about most people I know who are "rich," is there is a distinctly different tone they use when referring to the old, "poor" days. There is a fondness there. Talking about beat up cars barely making it home. Eating PB&J for days on end. Not being able to go to movies or pay for cable and just enjoying one another. Are those days lost as we progress?

I am not sure what the answer is. I am only 25, and by American standards, I am not exactly "rich". But maybe that is a good thing. Maybe life is better in the cheap seats and I should enjoy it while I can. Maybe that is what the Bible means when it says:

Ecclesiastes 2:26
To the man who pleases him, God gives wisdom, knowledge and happiness, but to the sinner he gives the task of gathering and storing up wealth to hand it over to the one who pleases God. This too is meaningless, a chasing after the wind.

Ok, so I am thinking to myself. You know, I have this whole website (I am refering to my 2timothy42.org site all you allenhuntshow.com people) dedicated to me, but frankly, that just isn't enough. Take this blog for instance. On any given page, there are, at most, 2 pictures of me. If this blog needs anything, it needs more photos of me, no?

But then you say, you can't just put more pictures of yourself because that would just be conceited and arrogant...right? So what's a boy to do? Enter Twitter...

Twitter is like "Status" on Facebook, but you can embed it on your site and update it by text messaging. My friend CJ has been using it and after bugging me enough, I finally gave in like a girl on prom night.

Take a look to your left ------------------------------------------------------------------------->
and there you go. Now, even between my blogging days, you can catch up on what I am doing.

The irony of course is, if my premise was to validate a reason to put more pictures of me on the site and not be self-centered, I think I have done the opposite because it takes a pretty self-centered premise to assume others actually care about what I am doing during the day.

C'est la nouvelle vie...non? Isn't that what the internet is all about: me...and of course, you!

Tuesday was opening day for Major League Baseball. The Boston Red Sox played the Oakland A's in Tokyo, Japan. I am stoked! I was so excited, today I decided to get a flex package of season tickets.

So I hoped on Atlanta Braves website and went to town on the games I wanted to attend. What is nice about my schedule is that I don't work on Friday,¹ so I bought a lot of Thursday night tickets.

Any-who...this isn't about buying tickets, it's about great customer service. I realized after purchasing the tickets, I didn't purchase parking passes. So I e-mailed them informing of the slip up and within 3 minutes they called me back with this voicemail:

Now that is customer service! And in under 15 seconds nonetheless. As Justin (who was purchasing tickets with me) put it, "if everybody provided customer service like that, nobody would be unhappy!" I think he is right.

In addition to that. I have heard it rumored from friends that I will be receiving a call from them in February offering me "great deals" for the 2009 season. What great follow-up and care for their customers.

Comcast, Apple Computer, Capital One, AT&T, Washington Mutual, Honda Carland of Roswell, and Cheetah Strip Club² take notice! You could make the world a better place if you just took a lesson from the Braves season ticket office.


And if anybody is interested, here are the games I will be attending!

Ok...so I don't usually use the blog like this. But I am SO overjoyed by this revelation and finding that I just had to share. There are three things I hate eating: Fruit, Vegetables & Nickels. Sure nickels taste good. But before you know it, you have nickel poising and then you have gone blind and are being escorted around by a pretentious golden retriever who thinks he is better than you because he can see. No thank you!

Ironically, I am obsessed with Jamba Juice and I love fruit smoothies. But the problem: no Jamba Juice or any good smoothie place within 374 miles of my current place of residence. So what's a boy to do? Figure out how to make them on his own. And I did...

Violá! Andy's Cranberry Rad Apple Profusion with Strawberries. And if you'd like to make Andy's CRAP the recipe is below.

• 16 oz of Kroger Cranberry Apple Juice
• 8 oz of Kroger Apple Juice
• 1 "layer" of Private Selection Frozen Whole Strawberries¹
• 2 large scoops of Edy's Slow Churned Rich & Creamy Vanilla Yogurt Blends
• 1 handful of ice

Blend together.

Pour into cup.

Use a straw.

Enjoy!

Justin thinks I have horrible taste in movies. This is mostly true. It isn't that I don't like good movies, it is that I like all movies.¹ I have seen exactly 643 movies in my life.² Out of those, I have disliked only 3.³ By definition this means that I like bad movies, vis-a-vis Justin is correct.

But if I had to list my three favorite movies they would be the following: In Good Company (I relate), The Bourne Trilogy (I am pretty sure I would sleep with Jason Bourne if he asked me to), and Hannibal. And don't even say Silence of the Lambs is better than Hannibal. To casually mention Dane Cook, if you even say Silence of the Lambs is better than Hannibal, I will stab you in the jaw.

Reasons Hannibal is better than Silence of the Lambs:

• Julianne Moore is way more attractive and less annoying than Jodi Foster
• Much of it takes place in Italy
• Plot focuses on Hannibal. Who gives a crap about Buffalo Bill
• Someone (tastefully?) eats their own brain

I could go on, but I won't.

One of the most essential scenes in Hannibal is where Lecter wonders if Agent Starling's parents are both "deep rollers." Take a look.

I don't know why, but as I laid awake past 3 am for the second night in a row mulling over the complexities of the universe, and even though I haven't seen this movie in over three years, this scene came to my mind while in the darkness.

It's probably because, like Starling, I too wonder whether or not my parents were both deep rollers.

This is no fault to them. It really has nothing to do with them. But I think the fundamental question Lecter was asking of Starling, and I am asking of myself, is valid. Is balance possible for us? Or is the passion, intensity, and drive hardwired to erase balance? Because with out balance - with out at least some "shallow" - I imagine one eventually hits the ground and that can't be pretty.

My mind drifts to a show we did a while ago about new research that says our happiness "range" is genetic. We can do little things to effect our happiness, but it is mostly predetermined. I am not sure I buy that, but I think Lecter would.

This got me thinking how fulfillment and balance are related? It seems the people I know that are the fullest are ones who have balance. Balance in love. Balance of power. Balance with family. Balance towards work.

I know many "deep rollers" whose parents were obviously a shallow/deep mix. These are truly great people. These are people to lookup to. They have a drive and passion for life that is respectable, but the balance in family and love and downtime that is missing in a deep/deep mix. Hopefully I can be like these people more as time goes on, or else I fear the next thing in store is a giant splat!

In the middle of our weekly planning video teleconference, Phil sent me an article from FoxNews about MyFreeImplants.com (warning: I didn't see any nudity "per se" - but it is definitely racey).

Here's the scenario. Women, you sign up to a MySpace-like social networking site, with pictures of yourself and descriptions highlighting your "situation." Situation here meaning that you have small/ugly/disfigured/orange boobs. Men, or "benefactors," you also sign up for the site, but you have to buy credit to do so. Once you enter the site, you then "donate" your credits to these women until they reach the amount needed to get a boob job (which appears to be $6500.00).

Now, before I proceed, I should state that I am really not a boob guy. I will go as far as saying that smaller chested woman are more attractive to me. And I don't mean that in the altruistic, good Christian boy sense (there are plenty of "other" things I am into). But to me, the law of nature comes in too much with large boobs and time + gravity ≠ good situation down the road. So, believe me, I truly don't think this world would be a better place if women were walking around with larger boobs.

As we proceeded in this planning meeting I started to think about all the reasons I am against plastic surgery. My two biggest reasons. #1 It is a huge waste of money (especially in light of all the suffering in the world). #2 It is superficial. But then I got to thinking about it. How are boob jobs any different than braces?

Ok, now I have done it haven't I? But seriously, think about it. Braces cost on average $5000. Boob jobs seem to cost $6000. And I don't care what you say, while I am sure there are a handful of cases where braces are necessary for proper function of the mouth and health, most of us had braces for aesthetic reasons. We didn't (or better yet our parents didn't) want us to be the freaky kid with ugly teeth. So if it is just as much money, and it is just as superficial, why are boob jobs (or any plastic surgery) any less morally or socially acceptable than braces?

I have to admit, I don't have an answer. There is something inside of me that thinks there should be a separation of aesthetic altering procedures, but on a philosophical ground, I can't seem to find the logic in separating the two. I guess I won't get my kids braces...or maybe I'll just get them boob jobs as well.

I drove 434.4 miles in the month of February. If I were to round, my car costs me $630.74 per month in fixed cost. If you add the $48.02 in fuel I used for the month, that brings my total operating expense to $678.76.

So, in the month of February, my car had what the airline industry calls a CASM - Cost Available Seat / Mile - of $1.45. In 2007, United Airlines had a CASM of $.11 on all it's flights. Flying a plane is approximately 13 times cheaper than my car last month.

Most of you are probably bored right now and are pulling up feelings you haven't had since 7th grade Algebra. For that I apologize.

But here is my question. Is Al Gore the only reason I am keeping my car?

The beauty of my location is that I do not live more than 1.4 miles from anything I need - except Jamba Juice which is 374 miles away. In the first map below, I have within the gray shaded box the following:

• My Office
• Super Target
• Kroger
• Chick-Fil-A
• McDonalds
• Pizza Hut
• Starbucks
• Blockbuster
• 22.3 Restaurants (I refuse to count Di Paolo as a full restaurant)

In case Miss South Carolina is having this blog read to her by Mario Lopez and is confused at this point, I have provided three map comparisons with the three most important places in the US (places I have lived) to illustrate my point:

Alpharetta Stomping Grounds


Azusa Stomping Grounds


Fort Wayne Stomping Grounds

The furthest thing from my home is my office @ 1.4 miles.

In comparison for my Fort Wayne readers out there: that is the distance from Homestead High School to the corner of West Hamilton Rd and Aboite Center Rd - I used to run that for Cross Country practice.

For my Azusa readers out there, that is the distance from West Campus to Alosta Place Apartments.

For Miss South Carolina, that is the distance from The Iraq to South Africa and such as.

For everybody else, well, come up with your own 1.4 mile comparison.

I guess my question is why am I so attached to a $7600.00 expense per year (not including fuel) when I clearly don't need one? People in New York don't seem to mind? Al Gore would be proud, wouldn't he?

But that is the problem. Al Gore has made it cool not to have a car. Like the White People of 1997 who made it cool not to have a TV, we have secretly grown to resent Al Gore and his kind because they have made the right thing to do the cool thing to do and as Americans we hate doing that which is cool. As soon as you do that which is cool, you are cliché and "that guy" - and nobody likes that guy.

I am 61% certain that fuel use increased 312% since the release of an Inconvenient Truth. It isn't that Americans have more places to go. It is that Americans don't like to be told what to do. I think it has something to do with Hitler telling the French what to do, and the American despisition of baguettes.

So it looks like I am hanging on to my car, unless God save the planet, Sean Hannity does a report on why owning a car keeps Osama from recovering from kidney stones. Only then will I be free from this bondage.

Today is Super Tuesday! Frankly, I don't see anything super about it. Although for the first time in about a month I got a wonderful night's sleep. After waking up, I went to my precinct and voted for Mike Huckabee. I debated voting the Democrat ticket, but I realized there is no way Obama is going to lose Georgia, and Huckabee needs my vote more than Obama. Once in front of the voting machine, it literally took me 15 seconds to do everything I needed to do to cast my ballot.

I left the precinct, swung by Taco Bell, and then went to Dick's Sporting Goods. Why? Senior year of high school, my ex-girlfriend (and it might have even been two ex-girlfriends) stole the tennis racket out of my car (which I always kept unlocked). I blamed my sister for losing it for years. It wasn't until Sophomore year of college when I was hanging out with this ex-girlfriend that she finally came clean. We laughed. It also wasn't until today that I went and bought a replacement.

The funny thing was, I stood in front of the rackets for 5 whole minutes trying to make my decision - that is 20x longer than it took me to cast my ballot for the next future leader of the world.

I have written a couple times recently on how stressful life has been. We have been adding stations, adding employees, adding sponsorships, adding marketing campaigns, adding luncheons, and increasing production elements. All this means added work and stress. Yesterday I left work because I seriously felt like I was having a heart attack. The only saving grace is that I can sleep in until whenever I naturally wake up, but even that is getting infringed on because of new morning meetings. This brings me to tennis...

I love racket sports. I played a lot of Tennis in high school. And then in college I switched to Racquetball. I tell you, there is nothing more stress relieving than beating around some blue balls as hard as you possible can (that's for you Kyle).

The past couple of months I have realized that the increase in stress and the decrease in physical activity is going to be disastrous if I don't change anything. I am still skinny as ever, so I "look" healthy. But I have to admit I feel like crap. I am hoping Tennis changes that.

So what does this have to do with politics? As I was driving home from Dick's I began to ponder, "in 4 years, which decision will make a bigger difference in my life?" According to the time comparison, the tennis racket will be 20x more important in my life.

My money is on the racket.

On Friday night we had a "Tiffany turns 27" / "Andy bought a house in November" party. At one point there were about 35 people there. This surprised me because a.) I didn't think 35 people could fit it my tiny townhome, and b.) it took until 10:30 before somebody showed up that I didn't know.

It got me thinking though. It got me thinking about the movie trailer I saw in 2004 for Crash. I loved that movie. It was a movie about LA and racism. It was unique and brilliant. But it is a line from the trailer, which had relatively little to do with race, that had me hooked. The line was, "In LA, nobody touches you...I think we miss that touch so much that we crash into each other just that we can feel something." I lived in LA. I know this to be true. But it isn't just LA - it's everywhere.

In September I downloaded a song called Car Crash by Matt Nathanson out of the iTunes free single of the week section. I don't normally do this because the music usually sucks, but this one sparked my interest for some reason. It's lyrics are thoughtful. The chorus in particular:

I wanna feel the car crash
I wanna feel the capsize
I wanna feel the bomb drop, the earth stop
'Til I'm satisfied
I wanna feel the car crash
'Cause I'm dyin' on the inside
I wanna let go and know
That I'll be alright, alright

I think it is fitting given the recent Duke University study that says we have fewer friends and confidants than Americans did 20-30 years ago. We are wealthier than we have ever been. We are more in control of our lives than we have ever been. We know more than we have ever known. We are more connected then we have ever been. Yet we are lonely. We miss that touch. Why? Why are we lonely?

I am a huge Scrubs fan. I have 134 of the 145 episodes on my DVR. I am not going to go into why I love the show so much. I am just going to show you one scene (it's worth the 2 minutes):

When I first saw this in January, I sent the link to my friend CJ and told him:

I wish you watched Scrubs so you would get this and not think it is weird/gay/ridiculous, but since [my girlfriend at the time] calls you my gay lover and [your wife] calls our friendship "special," I dedicate this video to you

Let's be honest. I would be JD because I am nerdy, quirky, and can't seem to stabilize a relationship. And CJ would be Turk because he's as cool and smooth as a black guy, and married with a kid.

My & CJ's friendship reminds me of David and Jonathan's in the Bible. I would probably be David because I am the one most likely to do something immoral sexually and then murder someone to cover it up. But the Bible says that at the news of Jonathan's death David said, "Your love for me was wonderful, more wonderful than that of women."

Jonathan died before David had an affair with Bathsheba and then murdered Uriah to cover it up, only to be outed by Nathan. But I have a feeling that if Jonathan was alive, it wouldn't have changed anything. CJ knows I am not perfect. And not just in a generic, "we all sinners" kind of way. He knows I am not perfect. And inversely, I know he isn't perfect. But it doesn't change anything. If anything, it is why I love him more.

David and Jonathan weren't living in a "Crash" world. And as wealthy, and knowledgeable, and connected, and in-control my life gets, it is the guy love and connectedness I find with CJ (and others) that makes this life satisfying and full.