Wednesday, June 22, 2016

The Gravity Chair, Fried Chicken and the NBA Championship

Hope all the fathers in your life had a great day Sunday.

Monte decided about a month before Father’s Day that he needed his gift right away.

A gravity chair.

I think Nigel likes the chair every bit as much as Monte.
I’d never heard of them before but Monte sure had.

Bed, Bath and Beyond had a gravity chair that was 
20% wider than a normal gravity chair.

The “Big Boy” as I like to call it.

This extra 20% enticed Monte right into using our 20% off coupon to get it before it was even June.

The name confused me at first.

Gravity plays into every chair when you think about it.

If it didn’t, we’d have no need for one.

Right?

But for the sake of Monte’s extreme enthusiasm, I’ll play along.

This chair doesn’t work like a regular patio lounge chair where you have two or three positions to prop yourself into.

This works more like an outdoor recliner.

A “Big Boy Lazy Boy” if you will.

That just came to me and you can bet 
I’m using that again.

Once you are in your optimal state of recline, you have to put the brakes on to lock in your position.

I haven’t quite figured out the brakes yet and just a few weeks ago made myself 
motion sick trying to lie back and read a book.

It moved around like crazy!

I almost needed a root beer.

Monte refers to the whole brake system with various forms of the word engage.

“Did you engage it?”

“Now disengage!”

“You want me to do what? But I’ll have to disengage…”

That last one is getting old.

I even heard him say “disengage” to absolutely no one (since he was all alone in the backyard) as he sat up in the chair.

That man loves his gravity chair.


He brings it out and shows everyone that comes over.

He makes the men sit in it.

Our friend Mark took a nap in it.


It’s definitely a man thing.

Ellie tried to get comfy in it and realized it isn’t for her.

FYI:  do not lie like this in the gravity chair. It’s extremely uncomfortable.

We usually go to Indiana on Father’s Day weekend to be with my dad but they were busy so it was just us.

McDaniel’s bus from Young Life camp got home in the wee hours of the morning Saturday so while she caught up on sleep

and I tackled ALL THE WET CLOTHES in her suitcase, 

Monte decided to turn the “Big Boy Lazy Boy” 
into a suntanning tool.

IN THE MIDDLE OF OUR DRIVEWAY.


Dear. Word.

I did make him put a bandage over his nose because he has to have more of what they think is the beginning stages of cancer scraped off in August.

And I’m just guessing that more sun 
wouldn’t be good on top of it.

The girls made Monte breakfast in bed Sunday morning.

Scrambled eggs and a turkey and cheese panini.
After breakfast we had only 15 minutes to get ready for church so we decided to skip and not rush.

We sat outside and Monte read us a list of “Dad jokes” that he found online.

They were so bad but he laughed so hard.

I guess that proves he’s a card-carrying Dad.

Then a bird pooped on his shorts.

I know!
It was funnier than any of the jokes.

Except it was the purple “I just ate a berry” 
kind of bird poop.

So I had to tend to that stain IMMEDIATELY.

Monte and I went to the grocery store to get steak for Father’s Day dinner and the store was giving out free samples of fried chicken.

I don’t mean small pieces of fried chicken,

ENTIRE PIECES OF FRIED CHICKEN.

We sent this picture to McDaniel to make her jealous.
Fried chicken is her love language.

It was so good we ate it like cavemen by the salad bar.

We made such a mess.

We tried to clean it up as best we could but there’s only so much you can do with greasy chicken skin and a wadded up napkin.

We had a great steak dinner and finished the night watching the most exciting NBA championship game ever.

Mainly because I can’t remember if I’ve ever actually watched an NBA championship game.

If I’m going to watch basketball, 
it’s going to be college, 
not NBA.

Monte asked me to watch just a few minutes with him since it was Father’s Day.

I went in neutral but was quickly told in a series of texts from Julie and Sumita that

 I MUST root for Cleveland if I were to remain living in Ohio

and stay a friend.

It was such a heart-pumping good game that I watched every second and worried I wouldn’t be able to sleep.

But then I remembered that I am me 
and sleep was no problem.

Congrats, Cavs, on winning the title after 52 long years!



Monday, June 13, 2016

Beyond the Flimsy

Saturday night Ellie decided to burn all the paperwork related to school.

It made quite an intense flame for a bit.

Cool picture.


But it died down quickly until we fed it again with

science worksheets,

social studies homework 

and math.


All that flimsy paper began to fly through the air,

raining charred bits of 8th grade all around us.

The yard is still a mess with all the bits of burnt paper.

I’ve tried to pick them up but they disintegrate the moment I touch them,

making a bigger mess.

It’s like that with most flimsy things.

Excuses.

Insecurity.

Fear.

Lies.

They all eventually make a mess 
blowing around out of control 
all over your yard.



It’s no accident that things with substance,

weight to them,

are the things that bring warmth.

Cause us to bring our chairs closer.

Make us want to linger.

Roast a marshmallow.


Not run for cover picking burnt up tissue-paper thin shrapnel 
from our hair and clothes.


Here’s to a summer of substance.

To skipping the shallow part of the pool and diving into the waters of the deep end.

To talking soul-to-soul, not just face-to-face.

To laying down a foundation for your life that won’t blow away as soon as the spark dies down.

Here’s to things that last.

Burning Down

The other day I was listening to the podcast The Next Right Thing. It was the episode titled Reflection as Activism.  Emily P. Freeman said ...