Wide Right Jesus

egg_beater_jesus_for_www.jpgI’m grateful to Full Professor Elrod for reminding me that we have our own version of “Touchdown Jesus” right here in Huntsville. “Eggbeater Jesus” is a 43 feet tall mosaic Messiah consisting of approximately 14 million pieces of the very finest Italian tile. This culinary Christ is located on the side of the First Baptist Church on Governors Drive near downtown Huntsville, just a few steps from where I work.

The name should be self-explanatory, but given the performance of Alabama place kicker Leigh Tiffin (3 missed FGs and 1 missed PAT) last Saturday against Arkansas, I would propose we give Him a new title– “Wide Right Jesus.”… Read the rest

Bad Boys, Bad Boys, Watcha Gonna Do?

cops500.jpgIt was half past midnight, and I had just started to dream. About what, I don’t remember. I just know that moments before, I had passed through the that warm and hazy tunnel connecting reality to reverie. Shapes and voices were emerging and the jumbled nightly narrative had begun–instructing, soothing or tormenting–it was anybody’s guess what shape the storyline would take tonight. And then came the knock.

And then the creak of our bedroom door opening. “H. just got pulled over by the police. He’s in front of the house,” informed Number Three Son.

H. is a college student, a good friend and a youth ministry major.… Read the rest

I Am Not a Prude. Am I?

churchlady1.jpgI am not a prude. Nor am I a teetotaler. Not even close. I believe God made the body– “and it was good.” I would have made a horrible Gnostic.

Still, some of this made me blush (be sure to watch the video clips and Joe Beam’s interview with MSNBC’s Lester Holt–who, by the way, attends the Manhattan Church of Christ).

A necessary and overdue corrective to the church’s longstanding “bury thy head in the sand” approach to human sexuality or just a little too much information, thank you very much?

Like a lot of things, I guess, it depends on who you talk to.… Read the rest

Another Soccer Boo-Boo

840003-01.jpgWhen two soccer players go up to head the ball at the same time, usually somebody wins the ball and somebody loses. Sometimes they both miss the ball and instead hit each other. As long as both players get up and play on, the standard sideline parent joke goes something like this: “Well, somebody just lost a few SAT points,” followed by peals of riotous laughter. It’s an old joke which for some reason never seems to lose it’s punch.

Having been thoroughly traumatized by the last soccer boo-boo in Atlanta, I gladly allowed Eyegal to handle the most recent tournament in Nashville.… Read the rest

The Church of Football

churchsign.jpgThe South is a curious amalgam of fried food and sweet tea, trashy trailer park tragedy, dark gothic tales, hell, fire and brimstone and, of course, the ever-present, all-consuming, life-giving Church of Football.

Oh sure, there’s football in other parts of the country, but does anyone else come close to matching the faithful fanaticism of a Deep South Game Day? The Church of Football has it’s own liturgy–the parking lot fellowship meal, the processional to the house of worship, the gathering of the congregation, colorful vestments and the common chants and cheers. Touchdowns, of course, are the holiest sacrament, and in the ecstasy of celebrating another six points, congregants, if only for a few transcendent moments, forget their troubles and woes and are transported into high, heavenly places.… Read the rest

A Hoover High Reprise

As most regular readers know, Ocular Fusion 2.0 tends to be a non-controversial blog. Eyegal tells me that I need more “edge,” and that she would like to see me post on more “hot topics.” Well, she of all people should know that when you get down to my core, “I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

Still, I’m up for a good scrap now and then, especially if one comes knocking at my door. My recent post on the MTV reality show “Two-a-Days” featuring Hoover High School’s football team didn’t stir up much trouble when I originally posted it, aside from the interesting discussion that Jon and I had on the pros and cons of allowing cuss words to be heard in one’s house.… Read the rest

Smart Is As Smart Does

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This morning, the National Merit Scholarship Corporation is releasing the names of the 2007 National Merit Scholarship Semifinalists. If you were to dig deeply enough into the Alabama list, you would find the name of Number Three One Son, one of 28 National Merit Semifinalists from Virgil I. Grissom High School in Huntsville. He’s the one smack dab in the middle, with the large, no-orthodontia-thank-you-very-much grin.

Sixteen thousand out of the more than 1.4 million students who took the PSAT last year were named Semifinalists. Grissom usually produces more National Merit Scholars than any other high school in Alabama, and that’s the case again this year.… Read the rest

Tank Update

tank2.jpgA while back, I posted on Torrance “Tank” Daniels, a Harding University grad who was attempting to make the final roster with the Philadelphia Eagles.

Despite having played well in preseason games and practices, Tank didn’t quite make the final cut, but he was signed to the Eagles practice squad. This means he practices with the team each week and doesn’t dress out for games, but he still retains his free agent status and could be signed by the Eagles or some other team at a later date. He’ll receive a salary of $64,000 per season (pretty decent money for a guy straight out of undergrad), and the miminum NFL rookie salary of $225,000 per season if he’s picked up and signed to a regular roster.… Read the rest

8:46 AM 9/11/02

Three thousand voices cry out in shock and awe at the mournful moment
A crisp, clear morning is shattered by fire and fury.
Frantic chatter from little wireless boxes fills the air,
And only the essentials matter now:
“I don’t want to die.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Take care of the kids.”
“I’ll be with you always.”
“I just want you to know I love you.”

I hear them even now, phantoms flitting about my head as the daily grind Halts on yet another Black Tuesday.
Each gently asks, “Remember me?”
They gather round and tell their stories of life and love:
John, who loved soccer and coached his kids,
Suzanne, who loved her little sister with Downs,
Mario, who considered fine wine with a good meal and the company of Friends a sacrament,
Max*, who loved tinkering with old Mustangs and playing the trombone.… Read the rest