Category Archives: dream

brother can you spare a dime?

Hello friendly blog peeps, peepettes and casual visitors.

Today’s post is asking for a HUGE favor.

If you look to the right… right next to the title of this post you’ll see a picture. If you click it, the link will take you to my page on the Lone Star Chapter of The National Multiple Sclerosis Society’s website.

I’m writing about this because I want to let you know I’m riding my bicycle half way across Texas in an effort to raise funds for researchers to find a cure for MS. I’m riding in the 2009 MS 150 Bike Tour from Houston to Austin. It’s about 160 miles or so over two days.

I’m do it for two reasons. One… believe it or not, I find it fun and of course, challenging. (i’ve ridden this ride before) Two… I know I am extremely lucky to be able to move my body on my own and so I feel an obligation to help.

I want to help researchers find a cure for folks who don’t move so well because of this disease.

I’m no scientist. I don’t know much about this disease or what it will take to end it. But I can pedal my bike and ask people to donate to my ride so the smart guys can figure a way to help those who are afflicted with this disease.

So I hope you will.

I hope you can spare ten bucks… or five bucks… or three or even one.

I know five bucks or even one doesn’t seem like a lot but it all adds up.

When I was in the Marine Corps I learned a saying from the grunts… “ounces make pounds.” I first heard it when my unit attached with some grunts for training and we were going on a 13 mile hike carrying all our gear on our back.

A few of the guys took us “non-hackers” aside and said, “ounces make pounds, Marine. Let me see your gear.” They proceeded to show us how stripping every tiny piece of non-essential crap added up to a lot of weight.

“Ounces make pounds” folks. I know times are tough. Hell, I barely have two nickels to rub together but if you could donate whatever you can…

well, every little bit adds up to a lot.

a dream the other night

I woke up Monday morning from a rather weird, odd, cooky, dream.
I was making plans for a wedding… but not to the Deistette, although we’re currently engaged. No I was marrying someone else. Someone who goes to my church. And all this with The Deistette’s knowledge.

In fact, the whole thing was some sort of scheme… some sort of plan that would benefit all of us somehow. Even the people in my congregation knew the wedding being planned was a scam and they were all in on making it appear real.

I couldn’t figure out why though. What was the purpose. Why was I willing to forge a marriage. I still can’t figure it out.

It reminded me of question I heard once though. I was on a road trip with some friends and one of the guys pulled out this book that had about 300 or so questions that were supposed spark conversation or debate. One that really stuck with me was this one:

After having dinner at a restaurant you’ve never visited or probably will go back to, the waiter brings you the bill and you notice he/she forgot to add the dessert which was about five dollars. What do you do? Do you tell the waiter of the oversight or do you simply give a bigger tip than you would have… covering or coming close to the five dollar difference.

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on dreams and lost love (part 2)

Several months ago I saw a story about ABC news reporter Bob Woodruff.

He was the reporter who, along with his camera man, Bob Vogt, was severely injured by a roadside bomb in Iraq. He lay in a coma for a little more than a month. And as doctors and nurses worked to bring him back from his sleep, his wife of 17 years sat by his side holding out hope.

In an interview Bob gave to Larry King he said that when he came out of the coma the first thing he said to his wife, Lee was, “Honey, where’ve you been?” He said it as if she had been gone or left and he had been looking for her.

After hearing the interview and how his wife stood vigil over his bed, I wept. Day after day she would be by his side. She would talk to him, touch his face, tell him stories and hoped that somewhere in there her husband could hear her.

The recent dreams I’ve had of MyLove made think about the ordeal Bob and Lee went through and me and the surreal event of MyLove having left five years ago and being gone. I say surreal because it happened so fast… just within a month. Surreal because it just doesn’t seem like it could possibly happen to us.
My over active imagination had me confess to Lillet, my big sister, “What if I’m in a coma? What if I’m asleep? I mean things have happened to me that I would have never guessed or dreamed would happen to me. In a relatively short time frame, I’ve learned how to make music, I have traveled, I have become religious. Me!… religious. I have dated a Miss Texas contestant, my brother is a convicted felon and I do not have MyLove by my side.”

I continued saying, ” … am I in a coma? Is she holding vigil by my bed and are my dreams of her instances of where she’s almost getting through to me. Are my dreams her talking to me and telling me stories and touching my face. Am I in a Matrix-esque sort of virtual world right now?”

Somebody please wake me…. please wake me.