Safe Haven

Could it be a cold in July? It was the most minor of scratchy throats. I happened to have two 16-ounce bottles of orange juice. I've drunk those, and it isn't worse. My plans fell through tonight, so I'm just sitting here. The Cardinals are on over my shoulder. No score. I just need to power through this scratchy lull. Not everything has an earth-shattering existential significance. It's good to be alone sometimes, even for me. I'm about to order myself a pizza, I think. Pizza and a Star Trek movie. We're calling it a win.

I went to Buffalo Wild Wings with Jeff and Paul last night. As it happened, I was not going to make it back by 10, which is when my Rosary partner and I always agree to start. [Let's cut the crap; your prayer pal is a beautiful woman.--ed.] That is true. What do you want me to say? So I made the call from Jeff's ancient cell--I mean, seriously, this thing was manufactured in 1967, you'd think--and all was well. I finished my Rosary at 10:50. The woman who served us was Catherine. If she's older than 25, she's doing pretty well for herself. I called her by her name at least 3 times, on the off chance she's not seeing anybody and she's Catholic. Just kidding, sort of. I also told Paulie that his lady-friend was a keeper. Beautiful, very Catholic, and a huge nerd. Since Jeff not only doesn't live for this world, but he doesn't even seem to enjoy himself, he ignored us. As for me, I had made my intentions known toward a good friend of mine the previo

I'm sitting here on the verge of what could be a very important day, and it causes me to reflect on those times when what I wanted got in the way of what is best. We've all been selfish before, and we've all made complete fools of ourselves. And I still feel the pain of having done that once, and forgiveness and reconciliation were not forthcoming. Maybe they will never be. And on the one hand, I was wrong; I made a mistake. There's no hiding it. And my insecurities as a person I tried to hand off, even blame, on someone else. Even if I hoped to find support, it was a lot. It was too much. I absolutely meant what I said in my apology written here, and I still do. And even though I'm ready and willing to wait until the New Heavens and New Earth for that reconciliation to come, it obviously still bothers me really deeply. Or I wouldn't be talking about it. And I do need to say I'm angry about it. I'm proud enough that my reputation means a great deal to

I frankly can't believe we have to take this election seriously. It won't be close. And it shouldn't be. We have a president who puts American soldiers in harm's way for a dubious purpose in Libya,--and that, without Congress's express authorization--who makes Americans complicit in the murder of children by revoking the Mexico City policy, whose Justice Department is so politicized, it makes Alberto Gonzales look like a statesman. The cronyism is thicker than the lies. They couldn't even pass a health care law without using a highly irregular tactic. When its constitutionality came under challenge, they didn't even have the guts to argue for it in a principled fashion. The Chief Justice of the Supreme Court did Obama a favor, and instead they whine about how everyone calls it a tax. Hey genius, that's the only way your horrid signature achievement is allowed under our Constitution. You know, that thing you took an oath to defend. After hammering Bush a

Don't dare even ask me why I'm conservative, at this point. And don't even start whining about how my Christian morality is inconsistent with this personal liberty. I wouldn't force anyone to do anything, unlike some people. To be a social conservative today means to advocate ideas that preserve the dignity of people; I don't recall Rick Santorum or anyone failing to recognize the pluralism that we all live under, or even being unwilling to tolerate it. Rather, by our words and lives, we insist that some uses of freedom are beneath the dignity of a human being. But people are so in love with themselves, really, that to say, "Hey, Chief. Hey, everyone, maybe that isn't such a good idea; it might be wrong" is to be a jack-booted thug with a Bible. I get it. Sparky here wants to outright ban bubbly sugar-water and hamburgers, but you're worried about Jesus-freaks. Those fascists. They might even say, "We'll pray for you." Oh, the horror

I'm blogging with nothing in particular to say. That never ends well. But writers write. [And fighters fight.--ed.] Did you just quote "Rocky Balboa" at me? [The real end of that saga.--ed.] I agree. The fifth should not have been made. I went to bed a little mad last night. Nothing new happened. Just lingering things. I try not to think about them, but I do. Everyone can say there are things they'd do differently. But the mark of a good character is that you admit mistakes, and try to correct them. If you can look yourself in the eye, look God in the eye, and say that you are the same person fundamentally that you appear to be to others, it's a good life. You can't control what people think or say about you. It hurts sometimes. A lot. Because people matter. Anyone who says, 'I don't care what people think of me!' is saying the opposite. And probably hiding deep pain and guilt. I digress. God is the friend I talk to most often. I have other f

It's July now; we'll see if I make it all the way through November with my sanity intact. [Unlikely.--ed.] But one of the fun things about November is the Presidential election. I told the immortal Bryan Cross that I usually make my prediction by July. Without further ado: The winner of the 2012 presidential election will be...Mitt Romney. What I'm seeing: A dispirited core of Obama voters, namely blacks and liberals, a Romney camp certain to gain strength from primary opponents still to come on board, polls that are not accurate, which hide the depth of Obama's weakness, and no compelling reason or argument to return the incumbent to power. I would have been highly discouraged by polls earlier showing Obama doing well in GOP states like CO and NC if I were in the Romney camp, but I did some digging to find that those polls are taken of all adults, not registered or likely voters. Thus, the RCP polling average is skewed in all those states by the snap impressions of

Last night, I attended Mass outside for the first time. It had the feel of a revival meeting, except, you know, we're Catholic. I wonder what the great Dr. Graham would say. And I definitely wish he had been there. I'm thankful not to be knowingly in any kind of heresy, but Billy Graham just makes you say, "Geez, I wish my material heresy had been ten percent as God-glorifying as that." You know, Confirmation Sponsor Spouse Lady reminded me that singing is like praying twice. It was probably a quote from a saint who ate dirt and was thankful, or something. [There is no St. Elder Cosby, is there?--ed.] You never know. Anyway, I'd say most of the Liturgy of the Word was chanted, and it was beautiful. More than that, though, the words we were singing stuck. There was something building last night, at least in me, of eschatological expectation. It felt like seeing the whole Bible, the whole redemptive plan, in the light of its urgency. The People of God waiting, year