Reflections on Turning Fifty.

I turned fifty a few days ago. After my old buddy Russ did it five months ago, I figured that this might happen to me. My fiance, the lovely Lady Di, bought me a super-duper chair, and put together an amazing party for me, too. My brother, the Amazing AndyMan, came up from Tampa, as did high school buddies Phil and Terrie. My oldest (non-relative) friend, Russ, and his girlfriend, and his mom (who, as I've mentioned not a few times in this space, is my "second mom"), Frandy, drove up from Panama City, FL. My running partner, Kevin, and his fiance made it, along with lots of friends from Church and out and about (I'll post more pictures on FaceBook, if you wanna look). An early rain burned off, and the weather was perfect. Lots of food, music, and camaraderie were made possible by the hard work and planning of my true love, Diane. Out of a slew of blessings for which I am grateful, Diane is my greatest.



I love you, Baby.

Freedom.

You gotta love the Freedom speech from Braveheart. In his bid to obtain Scotland a measure of autonomy from England, William Wallace was ultimately arrested and put to death. He gave up his personal freedom for the idea of relative corporate freedom for his countrymen. By not giving up his principles, Wallace was free, even as he was in prison. As the English poet, Richard Lovelace, wrote, "Stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage". Make no mistake: jail is not a good place to be. The Apostle Paul urged slaves to get loose if they could, , even though that's not what he did himself when he had the chance to run. Paul did take advantage of relative_freedom_in_jail to write letters and give instructions to the early church.

Before Paul, the Psalmist sang of the freedom of walking_in_the_Law. Yep, that's the same law that Paul said we were freed from". Confusing? You betcha. In the end, William Wallace and Saint Paul were on the same page. Figure out what's important to you, and live that way as completely as you can. That's what'll set you free: Truth.

My Future's So Bright (I gotta wear shades).

As I was lunching at Zaxby's this week, I noticed an inordinate number of customers wearing sunglasses inside the store. Now, there have always been those who were so attached to their shades that they just propped them up on top of their heads when they left the out-of-doors. My least favorite fashion hit is sunglasses sitting on the rim of baseball caps. If you're a baseball manager at a game, I totally get it. If you're in Zaxby's at noon on a Thursday? Not so much. Anyway, here are some sunglasses songs to pass the time.

The Name Game.

The Boro's receiving a visitor tomorrow. Amy Brock Martin is, according to Lady Di, all that and a bag of chips. I don't know her, but I like the lyrical quality of her name. The sound reminded me of a Beatles tune. Go ahead, give it a listen.

Attack of the Gingers!

Lady Di and I made a one hour trek to Kiawah Island for "Blues by the Sea". The Freshfield Market venue was verdant, and a nice sea breeze and a spot in the shade made for pleasant afternoon. We caught the Shane Pruitt Band and a bit of the Skyla Burrell Blues Band, but had to head back to the Boro before headliner Bobby Parker took the stage. The music was good, too; but the thing that most caught my eye was the preponderance of redheaded people- a/k/a "gingers"- that populated the place. You couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting a ginger.

At first, it wasn't so bad. Here's the crowd, see? But look, over in the right-hand corner...

See? Right there!

Look! There's another one.

Hmmm. I'm detecting a pattern here: that read-headed gal sitting just ahead of me bore a striking resemblance to the beer cooler sitting next to me. Maybe terrorists are turning Palmetto State denizens into beer coolers! Maybe that's why Shane Pruitt wants us to give him back his wig!

Nothing Has Been Proved.

Got another term of criminal court coming up. The case I was supposed to try got continued. I'm not sure what they're gonna do, but I reckon Dusty Springfield's got my closing statement written for me!

Crepe Myrder.

Okay, it was only a little pruning (and, apparently, I wasn't the first person to come up with the term.

French Toast.

I made French Toast this morning. Wish I could tell you that it tasted as good as it looked. Sadly, the bread was hard as a rock. Soaking the bread in whipped eggs helped; but as it cooled, it reverted to its stoney ways. The fresh strawberries and whipped cream were, at least, quite tasty.