Last night, Jude suggested it would be nice if we attended the 6 p.m. Ash Wednesday service at our church, St. Patrick Catholic Church. I was a little late getting away from work tonight, so I called her on my way home and we agreed to drive separately and meet at St. Patrick. I got there first, about ten minutes before the service began.
As I walked up the steps and entered our venerated, old church - the cornerstone was laid in July 1890 and St. Patrick Catholic Church was dedicated with its first Mass on February 8, 1891 - I was struck, again, by how much I love our church. The lights had not yet been turned up for the service, I noticed, as I sat down in a pew near the back. As I knelt to pray, I noticed several other parishioners doing the same. I felt a sense of kinship with them, as we sought refuge, together, in our church from the triumphs and tribulations of our daily lives.
Shortly after Father Perkin welcomed everyone to the Ash Wednesday service, I was lost in thought when Jude eased into the pew, John Patrick nestled comfortably in her arms. She smiled, he smiled and I realized there was no place on earth I'd rather be at that moment, on that night, than at St. Patrick with my wife and son.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
Sports Illustrated and Paul Zimmerman
As an avid sports fan, I've been reading Sports Illustrated since I was a kid. And I mean a really, really young kid. At one point, in junior high, I cut the covers off the Sports Illustrated issues that arrived at the house each week and taped them to my bedroom wall. Ultimately, I had at least one wall completely covered with Sports Illustrated covers.
Years (or decades) later, when Jude and I got married, she refused to allow me to bring into our new house my collection of Sports Illustrated magazines, which I had saved, religiously, for several years. There were stacks and stacks of them in a built-in bookcase I had in the office in my house. I filled up several garbage bags with the magazines, when I threw them out. I'm still not over their loss (and I'm only half kidding).
One of my favorite writers at Sports Illustrated is Paul "Dr. Z" Zimmerman, who has long covered the NFL. The last few years, he's written a regular column on SI.com during football season and around the time of the NFL draft. He's left the story writing and weekly reporting to younger writers. I was on-line tonight and stumbled across a long article he wrote years ago about Howie Long. Long, of course, is a hall of fame defensive lineman who played his entire career for the Oakland/L.A. Raiders. He's at least as well known, now, for being a talking head on Fox's NFL pre-game show for many years. The article was in the July 22, 1985, issue of Sports Illustrated.
Here's the link -
http://vault.sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/article/magazine/MAG1119689/index.htm
Well written and classic Dr. Z.
Years (or decades) later, when Jude and I got married, she refused to allow me to bring into our new house my collection of Sports Illustrated magazines, which I had saved, religiously, for several years. There were stacks and stacks of them in a built-in bookcase I had in the office in my house. I filled up several garbage bags with the magazines, when I threw them out. I'm still not over their loss (and I'm only half kidding).
One of my favorite writers at Sports Illustrated is Paul "Dr. Z" Zimmerman, who has long covered the NFL. The last few years, he's written a regular column on SI.com during football season and around the time of the NFL draft. He's left the story writing and weekly reporting to younger writers. I was on-line tonight and stumbled across a long article he wrote years ago about Howie Long. Long, of course, is a hall of fame defensive lineman who played his entire career for the Oakland/L.A. Raiders. He's at least as well known, now, for being a talking head on Fox's NFL pre-game show for many years. The article was in the July 22, 1985, issue of Sports Illustrated.
Here's the link -
http://vault.sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/article/magazine/MAG1119689/index.htm
Well written and classic Dr. Z.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
To the Victors . . .
(Almost) March Madness
Yesterday, Jude, John Patrick and I packed up and headed south to Franklin, where my niece, Kaitlyn Hearn, was playing at noon in the tournament championship game of her basketball league at Oak View Elementary School. Her team, Georgia Tech, was set to play Kansas State, who had actually beaten them twice during the regular season. It was a true family event, as my mother was there, along with my brother-in-law's parents, Ken and Ann Hearn.
Kaitlyn's team jumped out to an early lead, 6-2. In the second quarter, Kansas State tied them up at 6-6. The third quarter was nip and tuck, but Kaitlyn's team pulled away in the fourth quarter and won pretty easily. Kaitlyn, at point guard, played a good game. By my count, she scored 12 points. In the fourth quarter, she had several assists, as well. The girls celebrated like crazy when the game ended. Later in the afternoon, Jude and I remarked how special it was to see the unbridled joy on Kaitlyn's face, as she hugged her teammates after the game.
After the game was over, Jude, John Patrick and I stopped at a the Coffee Beanery in Franklin and had lunch. John Patrick ate a good lunch and seemed to enjoy hanging out with his parents. After we got home, he took a good nap. I think he was worn out.
Last night, Jude and I went out to dinner and to a play to celebrate our six year anniversary. Our nanny, Carley, babysat for John Patrick. We had dinner at our favorite restaurant, Margot's Cafe and Bistro in East Nashville. Afterwards, we saw "The Pajama Game" at TPAC, downtown.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
A Beautiful Morning
Today, Jude had to leave the house at 7 a.m. to attend a Leadership Nashville meeting. Although it made for an early morning for me, I was excited about the prospect of being able to spend some quality time with John Patrick before I went to work.
Usually, she wakes him and gives him a bottle, first thing in the morning. Today, I fed John Patrick his first bottle of the day. Then, we went into the bedroom, crawled on top of our bed and hung out for a while. I sat him up with a couple of books and He played by himself for a few minutes, like he normally does, then launched himself onto his stomach, smiling and flailing away with his arms and legs. Ever few seconds, he held his head up and looked around, confused that he hadn't managed to go anywhere. He'd put his head down, starting flailing his arms and legs, and look up again. Pretty funny stuff.
He managed to move around the bed by flopping over from his stomach onto his back, then onto his stomach again. That way, he manages to move in different directions, rolling over and over. He's getting pretty close to crawling, I think.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Saturday Afternoon at the Tap Room
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Art Imitates Life Imitates Art
This Place is a Zoo
Jude and I took John Patrick to the Nashville Zoo this morning, about 11 a.m. Believe it or not, I had never been to the Zoo. Jude, of course, has a season's pass. It's one of her favorite places to sneak away to with John Patrick. It's about ten minutes away from our house, is rarely crowded and is really kid friendly.
It was gorgeous in Nashville this morning, temperature in the mid-60s, bright blue sky. Apparently, everyone in the city decided it would be a great morning to go to the Zoo, because it was packed with people. We strolled John Patrick in and headed straight for the playground. He loves to swing, so we put him in one of the toddler swings and Jude pushed him, while I stood in front of him and snapped photographs with my camera. He laughed and laughed.
As we left the playground and strolled along, we ran into my cousin, David Clark and his wife, Stacy. They were at the Zoo with the children, Hope and Will. It was great to see them and we had a nice visit.
Bananarama
This morning, Jude cut up a few pieces of a banana for John Patrick to eat, while she was making his breakfast. I had just gotten back from an early morning run in the neighborhood, so I sat down with him while she was in the kitchen.
It's pretty amazing that in a relatively short period of time, John Patrick has gone from eating mashed up bananas to eating small chunks of bananas. What's even more amazing is to watch him pick up a chunk of banana himself, slowly and deliberately, then put it in his mouth . . . all by himself! In a little more than ten months, my son is already feeding himself. Crazy.
Playing Spoons
Friday night is my favorite night of the week. The work week is over and the weekend is in front of me, full of fun and family time.
Last night, Jude and I were in the kitchen, talking about what to do for dinner. I played DJ, turned the Ipod on and we listened to a couple of songs from the Radiators, an old band from her days in New Orleans at Tulane. She and I were dancing around the kitchen and John Patrick was sitting in his high chair, looking at us like we were crazy. After I got done playing drums with a couple of wooden spoons, I handed them to John Patrick. Not surprisingly, he just wanted to chew on them.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
High Fives
Tonight, while Jude was eating dinner, John Patrick and I were sitting in one of my "man chairs," hanging out. Jude and I were telling him to clap, then laughing when he would do it. It's pretty cool, because he's recently gotten better at clapping. Now, he actually claps his hands together and makes noise. He was pretty proud of himself.
Well, I've been trying to teach him to "high five" me. First, we clap. Next, I hold up my hands, palms out and say, "high five." Tonight, when he held up his hands, I'd slap them with mine. He laughed and laughed, every time. It was really funny.
Well, I've been trying to teach him to "high five" me. First, we clap. Next, I hold up my hands, palms out and say, "high five." Tonight, when he held up his hands, I'd slap them with mine. He laughed and laughed, every time. It was really funny.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
The Running Men
I've been an avid runner for almost twenty years. As crazy as it may seem, it's an extremely important part of who I am. I'm happier and a lot more fun to be around, when I'm running regularly. Conversely, if I haven't run in a few days, I get crabby.
I've run in countless races, including marathons, half marathons, 15, 10 and 5 kilometer races, and trail races.
I've run the Marine Corp Marathon in Washington, D.C., the Country Music Marathon in Nashville, TN, the RC Cola/Moon Pie 10 Mile Run in Bell Buckle, TN, the Strawberry Stride 5k in Portland, TN, the Wild Thang 9 Mile Trail Run in Long Hunter State Park in Lebanon, TN, the Thanksgiving Day Half Marathon in Atlanta, GA, the Peachtree 10k in Atlanta, GA, the Frostbite Half Marathon in Montgomery Bell State Park in Burns, TN, the Kentucky Derby Mini Marathon in Louisville, KY, the Expo 10,000 in Knoxville, TN, the Run for the Missions 5k in Franklin, TN, and the Boulevard Bolt in Nashville, TN, to name just a few.
I've run on the beaches in South Carolina and Florida. I've run on trails in Tennessee, Virginia, Georgia and California. I've run on the Strip in Las Vegas, Nevada and on the Mall in Washington, D.C. I've run in Arizona and Colorado. I've run in Costa Rica, Tortolla in the British Virgin Islands and in Edinburgh and Inverness, Scotland.
I've run in the morning, before it was light, and I've run in the evening, after it was dark. I once ran from my house in Franklin, TN, to my mom's house in Brentwood, TN, about 12 miles, in 8 degree weather. On a dare, I once ran from my mom's house in Brentwood, TN, to the Box Seat, a defunct sports bar in Green Hills in Nashville, TN, about 17 miles. I've run at night on the Forest Crossing Golf Course in a driving snowstorm, one of the most beautiful runs of my life. I've run in Phoenix, AZ, when it's 100 degrees.
I've run on a treadmill at the YMCA, Go Performance & Fitness and in the Gym at the Hilton in Sandestin, FL.
I've been bitten by a dog while I was running, badly enough that my leg bled. I've been shot at by teenagers with a water gun while running in my mom's neighborhood. I've almost been hit by a car on more than one occasion. I've fallen while running, skinning up my knees and hands badly. I've been stung by a bee while running. Once, I spend a half hour picking tics off my ankles and calves, after an 8 mile run on the Bicentennial Trail in Ashland City, TN. I've gotten sunburned, when running in the heat and windburned, when running in cold weather.
I've gotten lost on runs in Percy Warner and Shelby Parks, Nashville, TN, in Washington, D.C., in Boulder, CO.
A wild turkey once ran just ahead of me for about a quarter mile on the Bicentennial Trail in Ashland City, TN. An enormous owl hooted at me and turned it's head 180 degrees as I underneath him on the Cornelia Fort Trail in Shelby Park, Nashville, TN. I've seen deer while running in Long Hunter State Park in Lebanon, TN, and in the old days, running behind El Dorado, a subdivision near my mom's house in Brentwood, where Cool Springs is now. I've watched geese land on the lake in Shelby Park. I've seen rabbits on many, many occasions. I've stepped over turtles on the Cornelia Fort Trail, after a heavy rain. Yesterday, I saw a small, red fox dart ahead of me on the trail at Fort Granger in Pinkerton Park in Franklin, TN.
I've had many, many great runs, the kind I want to hold in my heart forever. Some of my favorite runs have been in the rain. I've had bad runs, too, where I've had to stop or I've gotten injured. I've run when I've been hurt (plantar fascitis, knee pain, back pain, etc.). I've run miles and miles on the trails in Shelby Park, Nashville, TN, probably my favorite place to run.
I've laughed while I ran, just happy to be alive. I've run with a heavy heart and I've run with a broken heart. I've cried while I ran, thinking of friends and family I've lost. I've composed toasts for rehearsal dinners and weddings, in my mind, while I ran. I've also composed eulogies, in my mind, while I ran.
Today, though, I did something I've dreamed of, almost since I started running. I ran with my son. It was a beautiful, unseasonably warm day for the 1st of February. After church, Jude strapped John Patrick into the Baby Jogger racing stroller, which I had been dying to take out for a spin since I purchased it a few months ago.
Although I ran my usual 3 mile route through the neighborhood, up Belmont Boulevard, through Belmont University's campus and back home, a route I've run at least a hundred times, it felt different today. It was different today, because my son was with me. It was a little harder than normal, since I was pushing the racing stroller. We made good time, though. John Patrick seemed to enjoy it. He stayed awake during the entire run and murmured contentedly to himself several times, or so it seemed to me. He just seemed to take it all in, looking from side to side, as we ran.
For me, it really doesn't get much better than that.
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