The Unauthorized Biography of Rosco P. Coltrane

When it's my moment in the sun, I won't forget that I am blessed, but every hero walks alone, thinking of more things to confess

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Location: Owensboro, Kentucky, United States


Saturday, February 19, 2005

Saturday the 19th, 11th day of Lent

I enjoy the craziness of my life most times. But sometimes, especially today, I long to be normal. My parents are taking a vacation this weekend. They are going to a place where I thought I was going to end up a few years back. I thought I was going to fall in love, get married, get a good job, maybe even have a few kids. And this weekend my parents would have came up to see us on the way to the motorcycle show. My dad and I would have went to the bike show for the afternoon while my mom and wife would be out shopping and talking about whatever it is that women talk about when they are by themselves. Then later we would eat dinner somewhere. It would have been normal.

Friday, February 18, 2005

Friday the 18th, 10th day of Lent

Traveling doesn't bother me. Traveling with other people does. We were going back to the Minneapolis airport when we missed the turn. No one seemed to understand that "Terminal" was where we needed to go. When we finally got the rental van dropped off, we arrived at the ticket counter and no one understood how to use the e-ticket machines. Luckily for me, I talked with a ticket agent and found out I could get on the direct flight from MN directly to NWA. I told everyone else good-bye, and they all hated me for my good fortune of getting back home before they would even leave the airport. I was so lucky that I even got an empty seat next to me on the way back. My mom has said that my good fortune this past winter on flights is because of "good living." I don't know about that. I don't know what kind of morals one must live to have just enough "good living."

Thursday, February 17, 2005

Thursday, The 17th, 9th Day of Lent

I have been craving a Dr. Pepper. I haven't caved though. But I have been thinking about the sacrifices of Jesus. His forty days out in the desert, alone with nothing but himself and the devil must have been amazingly horribly. I have only thought that I have known loneliness, but nothing compares to His loneliness. His hunger must have been close to killing him. And here I am wanting a Dr. Pepper while watching let night TV. The selfishness that I harbor and the pettiness of my life astounds me when I compare it to Christ's. And someday, when my life is over, my death will be nothing like his. Because whenever I die, my life will end on Earth. But He will be waiting on the other side.

How stupid is it that my life seems different because I am not drinking Dr. Peppers for a little over a month?

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

Wednesday, The 16th, 8th Day of Lent

I tried my best not to stare, I really did. But I couldn't stop it. I was sitting at lunch, eating with a bunch of people. I forgot what the conversation was about, but I wasn't interested. So I started to watch this guy a few booths over. You could just tell there was something wrong with the guy. He was huge. At least over 6'5 and probably over three bills. He had blond hair and talked really slow. He ordered a full breakfast of omelets, pancakes, sausage, bacon, hashbrowns, and three glasses of water. When his food finally came I watched him prepare for his meal. It was then that I realized that he had tourette's syndrome. He was readjusting and readjusting his silverware trying to get it into the perfect spot. It took him at least 5 tried just trying to get the fork, spoon, and knife in the right place. Then he did the same thing with the plates. Finally, he went to work on his glass of water. When he finally got it in the right spot, he picked it up and gulped it down in one swallow. He started to eat his eggs and he cut them with his fork grinding the metal on the plate exactly 5 times. He put his fork down and sat there for a minute before taking a bite. He was holding his hands and twitching his fingers. It was there that I saw the struggle in his eyes. I can only imagine what kind of torture this man went through just to wake up that morning and dress himself. Truth is I can't imagine it. I have no idea. I am so lucky with my health and mental well-being that I totally take it for granted. Yet some of God's precious children can't even eat their lunch without being driven insane by flatware.

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Tuesday, The 15th, The 7th Day of Lent

It's funny how TV can affect you. I am flipping channels in my cold hotel room. I come along the original "Brian's Song." I can't tell you how many times I have seen this movie, maybe a dozen. But I am sitting here watching it and knowing how this movie will end. But the worst part is I know the scene in which I will cry. It's the part where Gayle Sayers is accepting his award and he is giving his speech. He says, "I love Brian Piccolo, and I hope tonight you love Brian Piccolo too."

I don't understand why it is so easy for me to cry during this movie, and truth be told in a lot of movies. But in real life, when emotions run high I am a rock. I don't cry in public, I try not to even show anger in public. Maybe it is a pride thing. But for the life of me I can't understand why I don't show emotion in public, but I can watch a 1970's TV movie and cry.

Monday, February 14, 2005

Monday, The 14th, The 6th Day of Lent

Let me explain why it is good to be single on Valentine's Day. That reason is that I have no chance of really saying anything stupid to a woman that I care about.
I am no Don Juan, but I can sweet talk with the best of them. But there is always something inside my head that says, "Hey Lafe, why don't you say something really really stupid." Now I know almost every man can put their foot in their mouth while talking to women. But I never seem to stop when I get to the ankle and by the time I know it my knee is next.

The funny thing is I always give my buddies advice. When I asked one friend who was away on business what he was going to do for his wife, he said that he was trying to figure out what to bring her back. I asked him what is he sending here, he told me that she told him that they he didn't need to do anything big. I told him he needed to get her something, send her something on Valentine's Day. He still sounded like he wasn't buying it. I told him, look, I am not married, but I know about acting like a complete jackass with women. And that if he didn't do anything for her he was going to be pulling a "Lafe."

Sunday, February 13, 2005

Sunday, The 13th, Fifth Day of Lent

I flew to Minnesota today. I start out the day in NWA, and believe it or not, the sun was beginning to peek out from behind the clouds. The flight to Memphis wasn't that bad. When I got to Memphis I bought a Commercial Appeal (my favorite newspaper) and ate a pretty bad bar-b-que sandwich. It was the flight from Memphis to Minneapolis that was bad. It was cramped tight and we sat on the ground for way too long before we left the ground. When we were finally up in the air, it was fine until the many holding patterns we were flying. We were finally cleared for landing. But as we were descending, we started going faster, way faster. Then we had a hard right turn and back up we went. It seemed that there was another plane that we were heading towards that was also trying to land. Which needless to say is very bad.

My mind thought of only one word: legacy. It has been a word that has been on my mind a lot for the past few weeks. And I have started to wonder, what will my legacy be? What will people remember about me? That I was a good friend? I hope so. That I was a decent writer that loved books? Probably. That I loved my fellow man as the commandment says? Maybe. And all the while I was thinking about this, I was stuck in a way too small van with way too many people talking about a business that I couldn't care less about. It won't be my legacy. But what will be my legacy?