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

My Photo
Location: Owensboro, Kentucky, United States


Saturday, February 24, 2007

Dunk You Very Much

Stu once told me he never wanted to see me dunk a basketball because I would have to be pulled down from the goal, even if that meant I no longer had arms. I can't dunk, but I can enjoy these dunks from the past week...just nasty...

Friday, February 23, 2007

Sweep The Leg, Johnny

So last night, at community group, Jason Miller said something about my blog. He said, "you remember when you used to have like a video clip everyday, I loved that."

So this is for Jason Miller...

A music video, does anyone remember those, featuring an homage to a good ol' 80's karate movie.

Monday, February 19, 2007

For All You Scrubs Lovers

The Todd is one of the funniest characters on television.

So funny, and so wrong...

Locked Up

The phone rings "Unavailable"
His glasses are still crooked on his nose
so he adjusts them as he says he will accept the charges
from the county detention center

"I'm in a bad way, you gotta help me out."

He hangs up the phone without an answer, but the
answer is know between both men
what is understood doesn't need to be discussed

He knows the routine
He knows the drill

Lights always blinds this early in the morning
and the cold forces him to zip his fleece up to his mouth
but still his breath shows
the heat, the fire out his lungs
His car door creaks from cold
and the engine starts, but not happily

Driving past other headlights
his eyes will not blink but burn
He wonders what the excuse will be this time
What will be said and not believed

When he gets there, he says nothing
He walks down through the halls littered
with cops and bad coffee

Here, again? the man at the desk says

How much this time? is all he replies

Two hundred and fifty.

He writes a check to the cop
They usually don't accept checks, but they know his
won't bounce
They never have before

When he comes out, the man looks up at
his friend in jail
drunk on rage and indignation
and from the smell of it cheap tequila

Thanks, man, you don't know how much I appreciate this.
He sighs through his pullover and zipper
and turn on a dime
walks back out to his car with a small puppy following behind
his head still somewhere buried

The questions swill around the car
like though bubbles ready to pop
but neither of them want to take out any pins
so they just ride in silence until the
streets become more lighted
and the address seem more familiar

Again, you don't know how much I appreciate this

Get out! are the only words that are said
knowing that the feeling of appreciation is not mutual

It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

Okay, maybe it is because I grew up Batholic (Half-Baptist, Half-Catholic), but I love Lent. I love it, I love it, I love it...

I like to believe that the reason I love it is because it symbolic of the 40 days that Jesus spent out in the wilderness. That I feel deeply that my simple act of abstaining from something will help prepare myself for Easter, and help me focus on Christ's sacrifice for our justification. But that isn't the real reason I love Lent.

I also would like to believe that the season of Lent is like a second chance on New Year's resolutions. That the act of giving something up for God, somehow helps me discipline myself to exercise more or cut out food that isn't good for me. I would like to think that is the reason why I love Lent, but that again, isn't true.

The truth is I love Lent because I can't ever truly fathom grace. I can't understand the fact that I don't have to do anything to be justified by Christ's death. So I feel that I have to somehow atone. It is like my Christian Yom Kippur. It is my days of awe, my days of atonement. Even though I say I can let go of my dirty sins and mistakes through God's grace, I still think that my petty abstinence from junk food and alcohol will wash my dirty heart clean. So I rely on myself, and still come up short. How come no one can accept grace? I know it isn't just me. How come we still believe that works still work?

The simple answer is this: God can grant us grace so much more easily than we can grant grace to ourselves.

I Once Was Lost, But Now Am Found

So my existential journey is over. This morning, the really nice people at Arvest let me in the lobby 20 minutes before it opened and returned my driver's license. I am again, who I say I am. Which begs the question, who do I say I am?

Funny thing is that this Christmas, I got to see a different side of me from someone else.

My best friend, John, is a songwriter and told me that he had something on his Ipod that he wanted me to listen to. He said, "I wrote this song about you, and something you said to me one time."

I am never alone
Across this land I roam
You're fading to the darkside of me

I don't know where this time will take us
I don't know when we'll start

It was an interesting song called Settle Me, and I was very appreciative that he let me listen to it. I guess it was a culmination of all the talks we have had, all the times that I have sat down with him let him listen to the misadventures of single life since he has gone off and gotten married. It was a really good song because it was both wryly cynical and somehow hopeful. Which I hope is one of the ways I identify myself. Which I will demonstrate right here...

Got my ID back, woohoo, margaritas!!!

Sunday, February 18, 2007

The Myth of Driver's License

Yesterday morning, I was entering a facility when the guard asked me for my driver's license. I pulled my wallet out and found that my driver's license was no where to be found. Luckily, for me, the guy let me in the facility. I started to go back through my mind, trying to remember when they last time I had to produce my driver's license. I have retraced my steps and know that I have misplaced it somewhere between Monday, when I went to the bank and Thursday, when a friend asked to look through my wallet. For the life of me, I don't know where it is. I have looked everywhere. I think I will go by the bank on Monday morning and see if they have found it, but I am not getting my hopes up.

So right now, I have no way of positively identifying myself.

For the past week, I have been living without a driver's license and not knowing. I have went everywhere without identification. But now that I am conscious of not having identification, it simply gnaws at me.

Paul Simon had a song called "The Myth Of Fingerprints," in which he sings about the fact that we leave fingerprints everywhere that can identify us, but we somehow change between the time we leave fingerprints. The funny thing is, the same thing is true of our driver's license. My license can tell you that I need corrective lenses, have hazel eyes, my first name is Joshua, and have no hair. But it only identifies me, it cannot tell you anything about me. Maybe it can tell you that I am somewhat forgetful and have ran my wallet through the washer and dryer a few too many times, but that is it. My real identity is less accessible, only shared with those that I want to open up with and those that have known me for many years. And even then, that identity can change throughout time.

What can I do, but try to find my driver's license and try to prove to someone that I am who I am. Sure, that raises some very large existential questions. The truth of the matter is that I don't really want to prove who I am, I just want to prove I am who I say I am, that and maybe get a margarita at La Huerta.

Reed In The Snow

reed in snow1

Dad, sent me some pictures today of Reed playing in the snow for the first time. Looks like he was having a good time.

reed on sled