Getting Older

Sitting around on Saturday night, we began to celebrate our birthdays. Mine was February 28th, my son, Chase, is March 19th, and my brother, Stuart, is March 20th. Dad was up from Sanderson to help celebrate, and we began to open gifts.

First was my brother's from dad. As he opened it, his smile slowly subsided to the awkward, "I want to look happy, but I'm not quite sure what this is" phase.

"Oh," he said. "This looks...was this on my list? I mean, it looks good...was it on my list?"

I walked over to where he was sitting, and saw it was a book on tape.

Dad made a comment about maybe he saw the wrong list. Stuart is in to a lot of different things, but I don't remember him ever asking for a book on tape. That's my thing. I like listening to books on tape while I'm driving back and forth to and from work. So I looked at the title, and it looked like something I might have put on my list, but I wasn't sure.

So when it was my turn, dad said it was the wrong card. The tape from my envelope had the same color green as my wrapping paper, (which was different from Stuart's). So I told dad it had been on that (my) present. He insisted it was on the wrong package, so I started to hand Stuart my present, knowing it was likely his anyway. Then dad showed me the tape, which was the same color as the paper, therefore proving it belonged on my present, which is what I had tried to convince him of just seconds earlier. So I opened my present, and saw it was a video game that Stuart had put on his list. We swapped presents, and got a light laugh.

Stuart made a comment that the book on tape (mine) looked good, so maybe he would borrow it on his long drive down to Terlingua next time he went.

Dawn suggested that since I already had one from Christmas, he could borrow it. I thought she meant my new one, and told her I was already done with the one from Christmas.

"I know," she said with a strange look on her face. "That's why I said he could borrow it."

We all started laughing out loud at how suddenly we had all turned into people incapable of rational thought, and much less capable of being able to communicate with each other.

Poor Chase. There he sat on the couch, watching the three of us Street men, likely realizing that this was what he has to look forward to. He and I have talked often enough (in a joking manner) about when it comes my time to be put in a home. Unfortunately, I'm afraid after this weekend, the next time might not be quite as lighthearted.

Later that night, because we needed to challenge our mental abilities further, we decided to play Chicken Foot. It is a domino game that I had heard of before. It's not that complicated, once you learn how to actually play correctly. Then again, that evening, I'm guessing Tic Tac Toe would have taxed our abilities.

In my defense, I had already lost all of my chips playing poker before pouring my heart and soul out over a grill to make sure everyone got to enjoy a wonderful meal of chicken and turkey dogs.

I didn't say it was a GOOD excuse.

I have learned, through experiences like this, to quit taking myself so seriously. (No one else does.)

Life is short. And too much time is spent watching the news, and realizing what a horrible world we live in sometimes. I'm convinced that every once in a while, we need to surround ourselves with others who will help us laugh.

In high school, my best friend was a guy named Dewayne. To all of us, he was Bubba. We were inseparable. And we laughed our way through just about every evening, and every weekend. For years, that got lost in me. I spent way too much time trying to prove to everyone that I was someone to be taken seriously.

I've learned better.

Thank you to my family, for being such a joy in my life.

And I'm sorry, Chase. I'm afraid this is what you have to look forward to. At least, I pray you will be blessed with family the way I have.

Batman...Really?

Sitting down in front of the TV for the Cowboys vs. Bengals, I was more than ready to get the season started.

Before the game started, Andrea Kremer was talking to Terrell Owens and Chad Ochocinco. Cincinnati isn't the best team in the league, but Ochocinco has proven to be a pretty decent receiver. Owens was signed to a one-year, two million dollar deal. To most of us, two million dollars is nothing to scoff at. To someone who thinks he's the greatest receiver ever, that's chump change.

And yet, in the pre-game interview, Andrea asked how having too great receivers was going to work. Owens stuck his face out, and said, "I'm Batman..." He was obviously waiting for Ochocinco to follow up with, "I'm Robin." He did, and I couldn't help but think, "You get signed to a team that already has a good receiver, and you start out by telling the world that you are the number one receiver there? That the other guy is your sidekick?"

Wow. Nice to see Owens hasn't let the fact that almost no one wanted to sign him take away his...umm....confidence? No, let's just call it what it is. Arrogance.

Owens has moments of greatness. But he has one job. And when you are making millions of dollars a year to do one thing, you'd better be the best. Last night, I watched him do a simple post, and the ball hit him in the hands. Even when you're making a paltry two million a year, you can't drop passes like that.

It's also nice to see he hasn't lost his abilities.

Don't get me wrong. I don't hate Owens. But I got tired of watching him rant against the quarterback because he wasn't given a pass here and there. Then, he would drop two or three that hit him right in the chest.

And what ever happened to being thankful to be playing? Watching some of the speeches from the Hall-of-Fame inductees was refreshing. Here were people who played because they loved the game. One had waited thirty years to be inducted. And there was no (apparent) bitterness. He was thankful to be there. Most of those I saw gave credit to their teammates and coaches for the opportunities.

Emmett Smith cried when he thanked Daryl Johnston for blocking for him so many years, allowing him to make the runs he made. Now there's a class act.