Monday's with Murray

I don't really have any great Murray moments, oral or pictoral, to share today, but I didn't want the picture of my tonsils (see below) to be the top entry on this blog.

However, on the tails of my "Season One of 24 all day marathon" in Birmingham with Caldwell, Shleigh and Cheney, I have decided that I would like to start a new phenomenon. Perhaps you are aware of the Chuck Norris Facts phenomenon that has been sweeping the country over the past year.

I would like to start the Jack Bauer Facts phenomenon.

My reasoning is as follows. Jack Bauer is the star of 24. Chuck Norris is the star of Walker Texas Ranger. 24 is the best evening drama I have ever watched. The writing and production of 24 far surpasses Walker Texas Ranger. Therefore, Jack Bauer far surpasses Chuck Norris.

Some of you may find this sacreligious. I don't care. Jack's got my back.

You asked for it...

The readers of this blog have voted, and the decision is unanimous. Here are my tonsils. Please note, the white stuff on the back of the tonsils, as well as the size of the tonsils, is not normal.

Tonsilitis

We are currently in the midst of our week-plus vacation, during which we will see our sister and friends graduate from Covenant College, travel to Birmingham to spend a few days with some of the SB06 crowd at Caldwell's house, fly to Orlando to visit our family, and help coach our Surge team in a baseball tournament in Cocoa Beach, FL.

On Thursday of last week we began having a sore throat.

On Friday we began having a fever.

On Saturday the fever and sore throat were out in full force.

On Monday we went to the doctor because we feared death was imminent. He said we had tonsilitis. The antibiotics have finally kicked in, and we believe our body is on the mend.


Since this blog has become somewhat pictoral in nature, we are considering posting pictures of our tonsils. These pics are not for the weak of heart. Or stomach. Some of you may find this extremely, what's the word, gross, and so the question of whether we should post these graphic images is the subject of this week's MANVILLE TABLETALK POLL:

Should Sleuth post pictures of the inflamed, puss-covered tonsils on the blog?

Vote now.

You too

I once heard a comedian, I believe it was Brian Regan, do a stand up routine about how funny it is when we mindlessly use the phrase "you too" as a response to people every day. Sometimes it makes no sense, and yet out of habit we continue to use the phrase.

For instance, you tell the postman "have a good a good day" and he responds "you too." That's good usage.

Now consider: the waitress tells you to "enjoy your meal," and without thinking you reply "you too." What meal is she eating?
Or the guy in the toll booth tells you to "have a great stay in Florida" and you ignorantly reply "you too." He lives here!
Or the appliance man at Home Depot tells you "good luck with your new dishwasher" and you say "you too." Doubtful that he also has a recently purchased dishwasher.

Or the girl today in the pizza store. I was waiting in line for my lunch, observing the other customers and people watching (as I am want to do on occasion). The man in front of me, obviously in his late 40's, was currently flirting with the cute young cashier. He was telling her about his life in the corporate world, sadly attempting to flirt with the girl by simultaneously flaunting his acheivements while adoring her youth. She was eating it up.

As he walked out the front door, he looked over his shoulder and cast one longing look at the co-ed and teased, "have fun in college."

She flirted back. "You too."

Baseball is... (part 2)

...better than cow tipping?

How's this for the nadir of any team's season: Wofford (18-30) moved up the start of its Friday game against The Citadel to 5 p.m. so it wouldn't have to compete against a cow's bowel movements for local entertainment dollars.
Wofford's Moo-uau celebration divides up the school's football stadium into squares, which patrons purchase. Cash prizes are awarded based on which squares the cow marks.

"I don't know about that," Wofford senior Stephen Johnson told the Spartanburg (S.C.) Journal-Herald. "I've got to talk to someone about that. Cow bingo is more important than the baseball game? I don't know."

Baseball won in the end, as Wofford scored twice in the bottom of the ninth inning for a 5-4 win. Meanwhile, Lu Lu Belle the cow leapt a hedge and chain-link fence and no one was able to coax her back onto the field. Prizes were awarded by a random drawing.

Mondays with Murray

Baseball is...

Baseball is grass, chalk, and dirt displayed the same yet differently
In every park that has ever heard the words play ball.
Baseball is a passion that bonds and divides all those who know it.
Baseball is a pair of hands stained with newsprint,
A set of eyes squinting to read a boxscore,
A brow creased in an attempt to recreate a three-hour game
From an inch square block of type.
Baseball is the hat I wear to mow the lawn.
Baseball is a simple game of catch
and the never-ending search for the perfect knuckleball.
Baseball is Willie vs Mickey, Gibson vs Koufax, and Buddy Biancalana vs the odds.
Baseball links Kansan and Missourian, American and Japanese,
But most of all father and son.
Baseball is the scent of spring,
The unmistakable sound of a double down the line,
And the face of a 10-year-old emerging from a pile of bodies
With a worthless yet priceless foul ball.
Baseball is a language of very simple words that tell unbelievably magic tales.
Baseball is three brothers in the same uniform on the same team for one brief summer
Captured forever in a black and white photo on a table by the couch.
Baseball is a glove on a shelf, oiled and tightly wrapped,
Slumbering through the stark winter months.
Baseball is a breast pocket bulging with a transistor radio.
Baseball is the reason there are transistor radios.
Baseball is a voice in a box describing men you've never met,
In a place you've never been,
Doing things you'll never have the chance to do.
Baseball is a dream that you never really give up on.
Baseball is precious.
Baseball is timeless.
Baseball is forever.
- Greg Hall


The baseball team I'm coaching, Coral Springs Christian Academy, plays their rival Highlands Christian Academy in the District Championship tonight. This is like Covenant vs. Bryan or South Carolina vs. Clemson in the championship game. On paper we do not stand a chance - we start 2 seniors, 2 sophomores, 2 freshman, 3 eighth graders and a 7th grader (including our DH). Highlands starts 7 seniors, 3 juniors and has only 2 freshmen on their ENTIRE roster. Their faster, bigger, stronger, meaner, and did I say bigger (cf Friday Night Lights)? This is your classic underdog story, a made for movie matchup between the little guys and the baseball Goliath (see the pic below from an earlier game this year - our 2nd baseman and their 1st basemanr). We've played Highlands twice already this year and lost both times.

But we all know how difficult it is to beat a team three times in one season, and the beauty of baseball is that on any given day...

Roofs that MPC would prefer not to do...

See also: Noel and Elissa's roof.

A Day in the Life

The following is the first post on Brien's new blog.
We hope he will continue to update this blog regularly, but we won't be suprised if it falls dormant in the near future - not because of his lack of effort, but because of his lack of time. The following may explain our prediction:

"A day in the Life"

First real life experience blog written here.
It's a little rough - but I am in the middle of the work day.

Big Lunch
Yesterday was the first official company meeting (of my company).
6 sales guys were asked to meet at the office for lunch and a presentation from one of our major manufacturers. Three couldn't make it. One didn't answer the phone or show up. So we had 20 Panera sandwiches and 12 cookies and drinks and chips and 2 giant salads for me, 2 salesmen, and the manufacturer's rep.

Is Lupe there?
For the last three weeks my foreman has been calling asking for work, complaining that he has only had three jobs for the last three weeks from his other employer. I told him all my jobs were pending approval in the permit office.

Friday my first two permits were approved. Now the foreman's phone rings, and no one picks up.
I called his wife in Texas. Her English wasn't so good. And then Cingular dropped the call before I could give her my name and number.
And now I can't get a hold of her either.


Tracking down the mail carrier
I decided to save thirty bucks by mailing my notice of commencements into the county rather than have my permit runner service do it. The mail man collected it before 10 am, a little ahead of schedule.
Around 10am I realized one of the jobs with an NOC is in another county. And, as my permit service runner rep informed me, she needed it in order to pull the permit.
No big deal except the form has to be signed an notarized by the owner.
Actually, as of right now, it's a big deal.

Then Fed Ex shows up with a COD. I hadn't been to the bank yet, but the guy says he will swing back around before 1.
Works ok for me.

I set off to find the mail man and to go to the bank. After pulling out of my street, I saw him. Except it wasn't him. Same Post Service.
That guy told me about my mailman's route, and I set out to find him.
And didn't.

So I went to the bank.
Got the check.
Returned home.
As I pulled in Jason pulled out.
"Hey, the Fed Ex guy just stopped by 5 seconds ago."
I looked at my watch: 11:00.

I hope he doesn't come back at "sometime before 1."
I've still got to find the mail man, and I'd hate to miss the Fed Ex guy a third time.
Just tried Lupe again.

I'm starting to think I need a manager.

Monday's with Murray

Buoyed by the midweek victory against Lynn, the [Lauderdale Soccer Club] "Homeless" had to face United FC on just one day's rest, but this fixture earlier in the year had seen the United go down by 8-0 in Lauderdale's most lopsided victory of the campaign so far. It did not take long for Lauderdale's supremacy to show on the scoreboard. After 19 minutes, Dieujuste played Lormera near the touchline along the left. He cruised past his marker and stormed in on goal. Nearly running out of real estate, he fired from barely 1 yard out against a stationary GK Jason Hetzel.

LSC's own GK Saeben Gagnon was forced into a couple of difficult saves but made them look routine. Then ten minutes later, a pretty ball from Alerte bounced perfectly for Sidky who reached it just before Hetzel's fingertips could snatch it away. The big striker finished into the empty net, as LSC's forward partners, on pace for twenty goals apiece, both made amends for their midweek finishing woes. Just before the break, Hetzel injured his hand in a collision with his defender and the ball, which landed fortuitously to Petro for his first goal since February 5th.

In the second half, LSC made wholesale changes, and the side came out sluggishly. United jumped out with renewed vigor and grabbed a consolation goal after second half substitute GK Chad Stanford tipped a dangerous cross into the path of former Homeless, Renato Spanu for an empty net tap-in.

Lauderdale roared back with a delicious penetrating ball from JC Penagos into the path of an onrushing Brien Meyer who wrongfooted the United goaltender and finished cleanly into the side netting. On 78 minutes, Diego Rojas probed forward along the right and crossed beautifully to Milli Pasic, who posed for the cameras before blasting a picture-perfect side-volley into the empty net with his right for his first ever goal wearing the red and white.

Just moments from time, Brien Meyer chased a ball into the left corner and felt he was fouled. The official did not agree and kept playing, but rather than lose composure, Meyer timed his run perfectly and leaped above the defense to smash home a towering header off a gorgeous feed from Orlando Lawrence. That goal finished the scoring and gave Meyer three tallies in the last two matches.

- Lauderdale Soccer Club website

Easter at the Luthers, or Southerninity

Who needs an Easter egg hunt when you can do this instead?



Welcome to Easter [or insert any other holiday, birthday, or excuse to get together] at the Luther's.

To explain the above picture, we offer an excerpt from Caldwell's recent musings on this Easter at the Luther's. Note that Noah is the one across Papa's knee on the front tractor. Also, when did Dadu get so big?

"I feel like no words can appropriately describe that moment when I was flying from bump to grassy bump in your grandparents front yard clinging for my life to the steering wheel of the old lawnmower with your papa occasionally looking back at us and laughing . I'm pretty sure he was trying to throw us off. It was so much fun though. I'm pretty sure it was Noah's idea too; you should have seen his little face light up when he got on that lawn mower!... Man, you've just got to have times like that - when you ride a lawnmower to the back of the tractor and then go get a cold glass of sweet tea; I like to think of it as a time of Southern revival, reconfirming my Southern identity ... which I have renamed Southerninity."

And now for a ManvilleTabletalk poll:

Which Murray would you rather spend your Easter with? The lawnmower Murray pictured above, or the seersucker Murray pictured below?

MPC Tour, Week 4

This past weekend The Tour traveled to Oaktree Country Club, and most of the players agreed that Oaktree was by far their favorite course to date. The course is much nicer than the previous Colony West and Margate Executive stops, with nicely kept greens that are fast and undulating. The fairways are tree lined and narrow, with water on several of the holes, including a Par 3 16th which Jamey noted looks strikingly similar to Augusta National's 16th. Locals say that this course will be a challenge for even the most experienced golfer. And with the loser having to buy the winner's round of golf, the stakes were even higher.

The locals proved correct. True to form, Jamey took an early lead out of the gate, winning the first skin before Jason could manage to pull even and then pass Jamey for an early 5-2-0 lead. With 2 skins on the line and a chance to head out from the front nine with a five hole advantage, Jason choked and three putted on the 9th green. Jamey had battled back from an errant second shot that put him in the bunker, but with a spectacular chip and putt, Jamey took the 2 skins. It looked to be another 18 hole battle between Jason and Jamey.

Then the unthinkable happened. Brien came blazing out of the gates on the back nine to win 10, 11, and 12 - his first three skins of the tour and was suddenly challenging for the lead. This proved to be unnerving to all the participants, particularly Jamey, who managed to lodge his pitching wedge in a beautiful tree lining the fairway on 13. Brien's sudden success also rattled Jason, feeling the pressure of possibly having to buy Brien's round of golf (a bet he had previously thought was un-losable).

Jason and Jamey both gathered themselves, however, and Brien soon found his old form, and by the last hole Jamey and Jason were knotted at 7 skins each. With Brien behind by 4, the Tour Committee decided to make the final hole interesting, increasing it's value by 3 skins, thus elevating it to the rarely seen status of a Four-Skin hole. This "next shot wins" opportunity meant that whoever took the Four-Skin would be the winner. The Par 5 18th proved to be too much Four-Skin for the competition, however, and showing the grit and determination that has propelled him to his current lead atop this year's winnings, Jason holed a difficult 10 foot putt and managed to win his 4th game in as many outings.

Despite the familiar ending, this game was anything but usual, and the players are eager to return Oaktree in the future: Jason to defend his title, Jamey to challenge, and Brien to find Jamey's pitching wedge in that tree.



Season skin totals:

Sleuth: 28 skins
Jamey: 20 skins
Murray: 3 skins
Kit: 1 Skin

Victories:
Sleuth - 4
Jamey - 0
Murray - 0
Kit - 0

Reason #72 why I believe owning a grocery store is not profitable...

Monday's with Murray

Happy Easter.

WSJ Opinion Journal

Some headline highlights, courtesy of James Taranto and the WSJ Best of the Web daily blog (comments prior to headline are Taranto's):

'Io Non So Ben Ridir Com' I' V'intrai'
"Investigator: Dante's Fire Accidental"--headline, Spartanburg (S.C.) Herald-Journal, April 13

'Not Bad for a Guy Who Hasn't Had a Beer in 20 Years'
"Bush impresses Brewers with demeanor, competitiveness"--subheadline, Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, April 11

Why It Takes So Long to Get a Letter Typed at the Vatican
"Pope No Longer Racing Secretary"--headline, Daily Racing Form, April 12

Who Built a Jail Up There?
"Boulder Woman Jailed Over Garage Door"--headline, KMGH-TV Web site (Denver), April 13

Thanks for the Tip!--LXV
"Health Tip: Prevent Food-Borne Illnesses"--headline, HealthDayNews, April 12

But Not All of Them
"Experts Agree They Disagree"--headline, Herald News (West Paterson, N.J.), April 14

What Would Katie Do Without Tom?
"Tom: Yes, Katie Can Make Noise During Birth"--headline, MSNBC.com, April 13

Big Deal, So Can a Drunken Sailor
"Student Can Recite Poem With Profanity"--headline, Associated Press, April 14

Ping-Pyong Diplomacy
"US Envoy Says Ball in Pyongyang's Court"--headline, Reuters, April 11

What Would Maggots Do Without Experts?
"Experts Fly In for Maggot Summit"--headline, Manchester (England) Evening News, April 11

Thanks for the Tip!--LXIII
"Health Tip: Pay Attention to Your Child's Teeth"--headline, HealthDayNews, April 11

'It's Mullah Time'
"Rise of Hamas Concerns Brewers"--headline, USA Today, April 10

Doesn't Being Chief Justice Give Him an Unfair Advantage?
"Roberts Joins Judge Contest"--headline, Columbia (Mo.) Daily Tribune, April 7

It's Lucky for Him He Didn't Charge Both of Them
"Orlando Officer Who Used Taser Gun Not Guilty on One Battery Charge"--headline, Associated Press, April 7

Prayer and Law School

"I the Lord do not change." (Malachi 3:6)

"My heart is changed within me; all my compassion is aroused." (Hosea 11:8)

There is the old Christian cliche that teaches us God's 3 possible responses to our heavenly petitions: Yes, No, Not now. If this is the case, then my current situation with law school applications has fallen exactly in line with how it is supposed to be.

First, Ole Miss said yes.
Second, Notre Dame said no.
Third, Catholic University, Pepperdine, William & Mary, and Georgia all said wait list.
South Carolina is off doing its own thing. Go figure.

This perspective of prayer, however, is increasingly troubling to me. From a human perspective, it easily and I suppose logically separates answers to prayer categorically - in a sense there really are only 3 possible answers. Ultimately, though, I think this makes prayer too much of a "1-900 Divine Help Hotline," where our prayers are simply requests that must be answered definitively, without much thought of the relationship between the petitioner, the petition, and the one being petitioned. After, all, aren't there other "helpful" easy-evangelical ways to think of prayer, you know, like the way your youth leader taught you to make sure all of your prayers contain petitions, but also prayers of supplication, intercession, adoration, thanksgiving, etc.?

For instance, it would seem rather akward if I were to praise and thank God for His majesty as displayed through the glorious sunsets I see so frequently in south Florida, and for God to "respond" with "Wait." Or if I were to ask God to grant grace to my sisters as they seek to glorify Him with their summer plans, and He answer "No."

Prayer, then, is much more than a game of yes or no questions to be answered. I'm beginning to think that prayer is much less about getting a straight answer from God, and much more about getting our selfish wills straight with God's perfect plan. It's less about testing God and more about trusting Him. Prayer is not a way for me to tell God everything I want/need and then hope that He gives it to me, but a way for God to tell me what I need/want and through that communion receive the Spirit's enabling towards that end. Prayer is more like sitting down for a long afternoon conversation with God and hearing him slowly reveal his will, rather than pestering Him constantly for a quick and easy answer. I'm still learning what that means. In the meantime, here's what two of my more favorite theologians have to say:

"It is true, nothing we can say can have any influence upon him, or move him to show us mercy, but it may have an influence upon ourselves, and help to put us into a frame fit to receive mercy." Matthew Henry

"God is sometimes represented as if he were moved and persuaded by the prayers of his people; yet it is not to be thought that God is properly moved or made willing by our prayers"; instead, God bestows mercy "as though he were prevailed upon by prayer." Jonathan Edwards

Mondays with Murray('s mom and brother)

Murray's Mom: "I love spending money on new appliances and new household stuff. Especially when it's not my money."

Brien's mom is here. His brother Kit is in the house on his spring break. Things are happening.

Here's what has happened since they got here on Friday afternoon:

We have a new oven
We have a new dishwasher
We have new kitchen cabinets
We have a new toilet in Brien's room
We have new rugs in the two living rooms
We have a the Direct TV set up for the bigger living room
We have wall pictures all over the house
There are new coat racks and key chains holders by the front door
There is a new white board on the Wall of Fame

This is Monday morning. I think we will have a new house on a new golf course by Friday.

The MPC Tour Update

The MPC Tour made its second stop this year at Colony West in lovely Tamarac, Florida. Here is today's leaderboard, followed by the season totals thus far:

Sleuth: 83, 11 skins
Jamey: 91, 5 skins
Murray: 97, 0 skins

Season skin totals:

Sleuth: 20 skins
Jamey: 13 skins
Murray: 0 skins

A day in the Fort Lauderdale ghetto

Tuesday saw the full spectrum of socio-economic lifestyles in the 25 mile radius in which MPC operates.

I began the morning on top of a tile roof in a small enclave of Carolina, a marvelous planned community just miles from our homoffice that situates most of the beautiful homes around a pristine golf course (even in prosperous south Florida, the residents long for something more glorious, more peaceful, more heavenly, and they wishfully name their communites after those dreamy places). The homeowner is in his mid-30's, works at his own liesure, and was more concerned about his new puppy hunting dog that he was the thousand $$ roofing job. His living room was decorated with numerous hunting "trophies," and I later found that he takes yearly pilgrimages to the promised land to hunt in Barnwell, South Carolina. This man was not hurting for cash.

I then traveled only about 10 miles (as the crow flies), where I measured several large duplex homes. None of the residents owned the homes, and most didn't even know who the landlord was or how to reach them.

It was not uncommon to see something like a 100 ft. coaxial cable, exposed and above ground, stretched from the tv, out the livingroom window, through the sunroom, around the shubbery bed, across the backyard and straigh to the neighbors cable box, where Resident 1 was presumably "borrowing" Resident 2's cable access (see picture). Brilliant.

I knocked on one of the tenant's doors. The window was open, and inside I could hear the television broadcasting its quality afternoon programming, while several young children argued over a game they were playing. Upon my knock, they all began to chatter loudly and I could hear them clawing and fighting their way around each other and over the furniture as they tried to be the first to get the door. The undiscernable, ebonical noise reached a feverish pitch, highlighted by an older woman yelling from a back room of the house. At the peak of the yelling, I noticed the blinds part, and a little boy peaked through and started straight at me, and then disappointingly (and yet with a bit of suprise) announced to the house: "Ah, its just a white man."

Signing off,
just a white man

Reflections on the NCAA Tourney

These are not my words, but for someone as competitive and emotionally involved in most sports as I am, the following thoughts ring true, and also cut to the quick. His prayer is mine.

"The thrill of victory abounds in the NCAA men's basketball tournament. But sometimes it's the agony of defeat that sticks with you.

Duke senior J. J. Redick and Gonzaga junior Adam Morrison grabbed the headlines all year as they battled each other to lead the nation in scoring. Morrison invited comparisons to other rangy forwards with smooth jumpers. Redick broke all sorts of records with a shot that surprised you if it didn't rip the net. Sports Illustrated posed the two back to back on its March 6 cover and asked, "Who's the Best?"

But those stories were just appetizers for the sport's annual feast, the Big Dance. Both stars had something to prove in the tournament. Gonzaga had disappointed the last couple years after shedding their underdog reputation and earning high seeds. Duke expects all its stars to win at least one national championship. But Redick's teams had not yet translated ACC accolades into NCAA success in his first three tourney tries.

Neither will be leading his team to the Final Four this weekend. The thrill of George Mason has replaced the agony of unfulfilled potential. Last Thursday, Redick couldn't shake LSU's athletic defenders. Morrison couldn't stop his team from blowing a 17-point lead. Neither could fight back tears when faced with the end of their college careers. Redick's face reddened and his eyes welled when Coach Krzyzewski pulled him from the game with a few seconds left. Morrison's mouth contorted with pain as UCLA took the lead. After the final buzzer, he crumpled into a heap and bawled on the hardwood. He needed his opponents—subjects of his infamous trash talking for 40 minutes—to cut short their postgame celebration and pick him up.

Not all of us grieve our life's most painful moments before a live national audience. We're the better for it. The same media that touted this two-man contest turned on its fallen stars. ESPN the Magazine columnist Bill Simmons wrote, "During this year's March Madness, we've seen more bawling than in the entire 1993 season of Sally Jesse Raphael." Loud voices on talk radio expressed no little glee as they brandished their own machismo and criticized the show of emotion. The Chicago Tribune offered a subtle dig as the newspaper played on an opponent's nickname. "Redick disappeared for the third time in four Sweet 16 games in his ballyhooed career," the newspaper observed. "He hit just 3 of 18 shots as LSU, led by its own "Big Baby," Glen Davis, toppled the nation's No. 1 team 62-54."

The on-court emotion showed only part of the shock and pain these two endured after realizing they would never reach their goals. Redick and Morrison wore their school colors with pride. They were the face of their schools. But no more. They will never again play with such close friends to the raucous cheers of their classmates. (Morrison is expected to leave school early and enter the NBA Draft.) I only played high school football, but I'll never forget my last game. On a wet, fog-obscured night, we lost the regional championship to one of our closest rivals. I etched the evening's finality in my memory by tossing my mud-caked cleats into the locker-room garbage. I don't remember if I cried, but it hurt. I spent years training and dreaming about my senior year. In a moment, it all ended.

Sports take us through emotional peaks and valleys. Christianity, too, stirs the affections. Scripture teems with visceral emotion. The exiles mourned when they lost Jerusalem, the very home of God. "By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept when we remembered Zion" (Ps. 137:1). Paul poured his soul into the beloved churches he planted and encouraged. And despite the hardship inflicted on him by his fellow Jews, he never got over their rejection of Jesus. "I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were cursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my brothers, those of my own race, the people of Israel" (Rom. 9:2-4).

I only pray we all have something—much more important than basketball—that we cherish so dearly that losing it would bring us to tears."

There IS Crying in Basketball. If only we all had something so precious to weep about.
by Collin Hansen
Christianity Today