Hey, man! Can I bum a ride? or Smooth Criminal

This month at Blockbuster, they are having free movie rentals for the "middle section" of the store (i.e. not new releases).  Last night, around 11:00, I decided to go for one more movie before the month ended.

So, I'm heading down 25th, and right before I hit the Borders on West End, I see blue flashing lights in my rearview.  I pull into the empty Borders parking lot and I am greeted by a very nice Vanderbilt police officer.  He asks me for my license, registration, and proof of insurance (I mean, really?  Proof of insurance?  Take me back to Georgia, please.).  I scramble to find my registration, but after about 30 seconds, I find it.  But, I'm not able to find my insurance card.  Whatever. 

He asks if I knew why he stopped me, I say no and he says it's because I didn't come to a complete stop at a stop sign a few blocks back.  He says I just kind of slowed down.  Whatever.

So, another cop comes to my passenger-side window and shines her light through my window into my glovebox as I'm looking for my proof of insurance.  I roll down the window and say, "Thanks, it's hard to see in here," and she just smiles.  

Three minutes later, I still can't find my insurance card.  She kind of shines the light in my face and says, "Have you gotten a speeding ticket in Nashville before?"

"Uh, yeah, a few months ago."  I reply.

"Did you pay for it?"  she asks.

"Uh, yeah.  I think my mom took care of it as an early birthday present," I reply, as I feel my heart slowly creep into my throat, thinking, "OH shit, did she pay it?"

The lady cop half-smiles and says, "I'm afraid not, sir."

So, I talk with her for a few minutes, she says she'll be right back.  Another cop car drives up next to the other car (because, two cops aren't enough for this really crazy, not-coming-to-a-full-stop-at-stop-sign situation).  The lady comes back to me about 10 minutes later and says that my last speeding ticket in March was not paid for and I was driving on a suspended license.  I ask if I'm going to go to jail.  She said, "We're not sure yet, we're still checking your background."  

I'm not going to lie.  My chin started to quiver and I got scared I was going to be handcuffed, put into the Vandy police car and taken downtown.  The girl cop told me it was going to be okay and not to panic.  Whatever.

Finally, after what seems like another 10 minutes, the guy cop comes up to me and tells me they're not taking me to jail, but that I need to step out of the car, get fingerprints and answer a few more questions.

I give him a fingerprint of my right index finger, answer a few questions, and then give my friend Gary a call to come and pick me up.  Gary arrives about 10 minutes later, takes me home, and I don't sleep the entire night.

I wake up this morning, praying my car hasn't been towed and is still at Borders.  Gary picks me up at 8:45, we drive to Borders, and there she is, my car with a neon-green sticker on the driver's side window saying that if I don't move my car within X-amount of hours, it will be towed.  Phew.

Technically, I'm not supposed to drive because my license is suspended, but I didn't want to leave my car there.  Plus, I'm a criminal now and I'm feeling a little bit tough.  And, I didn't want my car to get towed.

So, this is what I have to do:

1) Pay the $129.50 ticket from back in March my parents never paid for (check!);

2) Get receipt tomorrow morning from the City saying I paid the ticket;

3) Write a letter and sign it saying my mother can reinstate my license in my absence;

4) Next-day my letter and proof of payment to Georgia ($16.50);

5) Mom goes to the DMV to get my license reinstated ($45 + something else);

6) Pay the ticket I got last night from running the 4-way sop ($92.50)

7) Appear in court October 13th and plead guilty (hopefully with reinstated license and both tickets paid);

8) Judge then tells me my sentence and how much I have to pay for my misdemeanor (driving with a suspended license).

That's so much stuff!  And so much money!  Luckily, I'm really, really wealthy so this will all be a breeze to take care of.  Sike.

Hopefully my license will be reinstated by Thursday. If not, then... uh... bummer for me.

I remember, at exactly this time last year, my world fell apart.  This has been, by far, the hardest year of my entire life.  I hope, after the court date on the 13th, things will finally start to get better.  

Plus, I mean, stress causes pimples.  I already have BIG ones on my forehead just from last night.  Isn't that insane that, overnight, I can get a bunch of pimples?  The body is weird, man.  

Progress

Last year, while on tour and passing through Tampa, my friend Phil and I felt like we should pray.  We didn't know why or what we should pray about, but we left the crowd and went to a somewhat-vacant room to pray.  

It was one of those nights we knew we were being listened to.  Not just the mental, kind-of-sure assurance that God was listening, but the 100%, know-for-sure attitude that our prayers were going to do something.  We prayed that God would wreck our lives and bring us to a place where we had to 100% depend on Him.

3 months later... Fired unreliable manager who got us (the band) into thousands of dollars of debt, scrambled to find jobs just to barely make ends meet, transmission went out in my car, car got broken into, starter went bad in my car...  The list goes on.  All in a few weeks.

I forget that God is sovereign; That He is the one who is leading me through the fire (yet, not letting me be burned), and it is He who is putting me up to the bottom of my nose in the water (yet, not letting me drown).  It's easy for me to list my problems, and it's easier for me to blame all my problems on other problems.  There's a perpetual blame-game that I get caught up in, and in doing so, I forgot that all the stuff going on in my life is because God is allowing it.  I buy into the lie that I could potentially make things better if I could just do A and B, forgetting completely that it is God who is using the mountains in my life to show me that I am a complete being, not lacking anything, who is meant to live in the light.

I had a dream the other night that I was standing in the middle of a huge, frozen river in between miles and miles of mountains.  I would start to settle in one place, and then, just as I let all my weight rest on the frozen surface, I began to hear and feel the ice cracking underneath me.  For fear of falling through, I would run away.  Just as I settled in a new place, the cracking began, and again, I would run to a new place.  

I'm beginning to wonder that, instead of running, I should just relax, let the ice break, and let the river underneath sweep my body away.  And, though the torrent will smash me against rocks, freeze my body, and steal the air from my lungs (almost to the point of death), it will eventually lead me to still waters surrounded by a landscape of ceaseless new life blooming at every direction.

I'm scared of standing still, you know?  I'm afraid of the possibilities that being still can provide.  I have to remind myself that I was created for the stuff beyond the surface; that, if I stand still long enough, I will see that I was made for the cooler, rougher waters... that lead me to stillness.

A Bye, Start Here

Sing me to sleep, underneath

A blanket of stars tonight

Where all my hopes and fears

Look childish in the light

Lose yourself

You're young and you've got time

Stand true, move forward

You'll figure it all out eventually

Or not

Either way, you'll have company

Hold My Hand (I Can't Stand Alone)

So, I've got a mentor I've been meeting up with (www.georgelandolt.com), and he wants me to read this book called Men and Marriage by George Gilder.  After reading a lot of reviews on the book, I'm starting to wonder if I'll even like it.  A lot of people who like it are comparing it to John Eldredge (though, Gilder wrote a bit before Eldredge).  

I'm pretty certain that the way I grew up (single-parent household, mom always working, often alone and, when not alone, not the most wholesome family experiences) has really shaped the way I view relationships.  So, when someone tells me that I have to be the hero (read: western world masculinity) to someone, I just feel kind of unmotivated.  Writing letters and listening to music and debating and making out... that sounds more motivating.  

The hero mentality doesn't seem appealing to me, because my whole life, the only example of a woman I saw was hurt, broken, hopeless... left waiting to be rescued.  And, the men who were supposed to be the heroes were abusive, manipulative, and more holding prisoner than rescuing.  How does someone who grew up with these bad examples get beyond the hurt and into the desire for a healthy relationship?  Furthermore, how does someone... or, how do I, get the motivation to be that man to someone?

A lot of the meetings I've had with George leave me wondering what went wrong with me.  We use the word collide a lot, because right now, it seems most fitting.  How the cross collides with this grave that I'm sitting in; how the words of Jesus collide with my day-to-day; how the words (or lack thereof) of my past collide with my present-day, lifeless ambitions.  It's all kind of coming together at this 4-way intersection, but instead of everything stopping, everything just keeps moving and all these collisions are happening.  The damage is so big and fixing it seems so impossible.  The idea of fixing it is good, but the actual fixing, some days, seems completely pointless.  

I'm learning that you don't walk toward healing, but that the healing is the walking towards being healed.  I'm learning that those steps are small, which implies that it might take a while to get there.  But, the idea of a place called Healed is plenty enough motivation for me to keep walking.

Communicate

You know... I've said it once, and I'll say it again: To get clean, you've got to get dirty.  I know that's not exactly, 100% theologically correct, but...

It's been a hell of a day.  Hard to understand, painful to talk about, mentors, life-changing statements.  Conclusions.  Loose ends.  I'm a broken man.  

Panic! No gas in Nashville! End of the world!

Basically, if none of you know, Nashville is out of gas.  How did this all start?  From a rumor that Nashville will run out of gas.  People were saying it was because of Ike, because of oil companies slowing oil production...  The list goes on.  So, you have these people who have 3/4 tank going to gas stations on Friday morning, with two or three more 5-gallon cans, and filling up as much as possible.  And, if you weren't working, EVERYONE was doing it.  People freaked.  And, because people freaked, they used up the weekend shipment and you can't get gas.  The sad thing is, people who actually need it, can't get it.  So, everyone who has a 1/4 tank and can't get gas anywhere, thank the people who are hoarding it.  

To give you a picture of what the town looks like, EVERY gas station has yellow tape around the gas pumps or plastic bags around the nozzles, and almost no gas station has any prices on their signs.  And, for the 3% of gas stations who do have gas, you can expect a 200-car-deep line that backs up for miles.  All because of a rumor.

As for me?  I didn't find out about all of this until yesterday afternoon at work.  I wasn't able to get off until around 11:00 last night, and I knew that I would be better off looking for gas in the later hours.  So, I went home, hung out for a few hours, and then I get a call from my co-worker who lives about five miles from me and says she found gas.  She was in line, so I told her to call me back if she got anything.  I honestly did not even think of going to where she was, because a) I only had a 1/4 tank and I didn't want to waste it waiting in line for over an hour and b) I was afraid that by the time I got there, they'd be out.  An hour later, she called me saying she got gas.  She told me the line wasn't too long and if I came now, there would be some left.  I hesitated, but after some thought, I put on my flip-flops and headed to an unfamiliar part of town.

I'm talking to my co-worker the whole way to the station, because I have no idea where I am going.  All I keep thinking is, There's going to be a huge line. This is one of the only stations in Nashville that has gas.  It's going to be out.  I'm wasting gas by finding gas.  This sucks.  

I almost miss the gas station my co-worker was talking about because none of the lights were on.  It looked like a scene from an apocalyptic movie.  People were huddled around gas stations with cans at their feet, getting as much gas as possible.  The surprising thing?  No line.  My only conclusion was that they ran out of gas so no one was bothering to wait anymore.  But, I pulled in, and there's this dude who flags me over to a vacant pump.  I park, slide my card, insert nozzle, and there is glorious gas filling up my gas tank.  Now my thoughts move toward Are you kidding me?  

So, I now have a full tank of gas.  And there are thousands and thousands of people who don't.  Shipments will come in, and people with almost-full tanks will probably wait in line and mess it up, again, for everyone.  That's the thing about panic.  That's the thing about consumerism.  We tell ourselves that things aren't right and that we need it at this moment, and without it, things will be completely chaotic.  

I have about a week-and-a-half to see how this all ends up.  To all my Nashvillians, be patient.  Don't drive too much, and if you have enough gas, give somebody a ride.

Careful Now

By the time you find your way

You gotta run right back to the start

Don't think you're lost

You gotta run right back to the start

And when you finally think it's gone

You gotta run right back to her arms

"I'm leaving for Austin permanently.  I just want you to know that if you ever need me, I'll be there for you.  Do you know how to get in touch with me?"

"Yeah, I think I still have your email address."

"Okay, good."

"Alright.  Be well."

Thoughts tonight: I haven't sat and had a decent conversation with this person in a year and a half.  Why is the leaving weighing so heavily on my heart?  Perhaps it's not the absence, but the distance that's going to kill me.  No more run-ins.  No more thoughts of where you are in Nashville.  You're leaving for good, leaving me lonely as hell.

I Wanna Dance With Somebody

So, tonight pretty much consisted of me going to Borders to get the new GQ, but for some reason, they didn't have it. I had a Kashi mediterranean pizza in the freezer, but due to my depression from not having a new GQ (I still haven't ordered my 2-year subscription for only $18), I went to Wendy's. I usually get a jr. bacon cheeseburger and 2 five-piece nuggets. To top it off, I get this buffalo ranch sauce that is absolutely delicious. To my dismay, Wendy's discontinued it (according to Leslie, my cashier in the drive-thru window). Bummer.

I came home, started eating my nuggets, sans delicious sauce, and turned on the TV.

The Bodyguard's opening credits come on Vh1. The move is just starting. I never catch a movie when it just starts.

Thoughts I had: Should I watch it? I really do love this movie. It reminds me of sitting with my older brother and two younger sisters when we were little. Okay, I'll watch it.

Over an hour later, I'm downloading a few songs from the Bodyguard soundtrack (I Have Nothing, Run to You, and Jesus Loves Me) and even a few more Whitney classics (I Wanna Dance With Somebody).

My thoughts now: What happened to Whitney? Can she make a comeback? Will she make a comeback? I hope so.

Basically, I miss real singers. I miss Brian McKnight and Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston and Babyface... I really, really hate this computer-sounding bullcrap that is coming from most of the younger "singers" these days. You know that effect I'm talking about? It makes it sound like that Cher song (When You Believe). Hate hate hate it. The only people to come into the scene in the past few years who can actually sing are Kelly Clarkson and Keyshia Cole. Everyone else just sounds really boring and gross.

So, cheers to Whitney Houston circa 1992. I will always love you.

In Your Atmosphere

"Everywhere I go, what ever I do; I wonder where I am in my relationship to you."

I can't help but think about the lyrics of John Mayer tonight.  I know this is a shallow first post, but it's all I got for now.  

Have you ever been in a place you have no idea how you got there?  I mean, sure we have the footsteps in our minds and the clues that lead us to our answers.  But, sometimes the place we are is so overwhelming that the questions ("How did I get here," "How could I fall like that?") don't really matter.  Perhaps the only important question is, "How do I get out of here?"