Go ahead....check my left hand. Yep, there's a Hus-band.

             

     
        It happened.  The long and winding road that Melissa and I have been on for the last 12 years, finally offered up a conclusive destination named happiness.  By happiness, I mean a life-long commitment to each other commonly referred to as the holy and sacred union of marriage.  Marriage!  I can't believe it happened, and that I am a husband!  Not only a husband, but the husband of the most amazing female to ever grace the planet.  Our wedding was a long time coming, and a long time in the making.  We[and by we I mean Melissa, her Mother, her Father, and I]had a year of planning and of detail-sorting invested in this thing.  It all came to a culmination and fruition on December the 12th, 2009.
        The whole wedding weekend was very surreal to me.  I knew it was happening, and was aware of the events that unfolded and swirled around me, but somehow had a hard time feeling a presence of mind and maintaining a mental sense of reality.  I honestly felt, for the greater portion of those 48 hours or so, that I was sleepwalking in a beautifully soft and hazy dream.  A lot of the family members and friends from both sides flew in on that Thursday night, to an atypically cold Atlanta weekend.  With highs only in the 40's and a promise of a Saturday drizzle, it wasn't exactly the weather we'd been hoping nor praying for.  However, there was nothing to do but bundle up and make the best of it - besides, it still probably felt like a day at the beach for the gaggle of hearty, thick-blooded Minnesotans.  So, Melissa and I spent that Thursday evening going to one of our favorite steak&sushi restaurants with my family and a couple of close friends.  The food was great, the atmosphere was festive, and the smiles and hugs were plentiful.  Afterwards, we all adjourned to the white light laden outdoor square where we were able to take group pictures in front of an absolutely towering Christmas tree.  It felt so good to be standing in the middle of Atlantic Station, in my adopted hometown of Atlanta, with my soon-to-be-wife and all of my loved ones.  I don't know the exact word for that feeling, but I felt warm inside.
        The wedding rehearsal was slated for 11am the next morning, so after seeing everyone made it back to the downtown Marriott Suites and enjoying a brief reunion with the Golden clan, it was time to head for home and a few hours of sleep.  Well, sleep didn't come easily that night, but the morning sure came quickly.  After a few violent "snooze" slaps to the 'ol alarm clock, I was showered and on my way to our rehearsal.  Can I say I was shocked?  I was shocked at how easily the rehearsal went by, and at how well-behaved everyone was!  We had no problems of any kind, and were finished before I even knew it!  Awesome.  Afterwards, everyone sort of gradually dispersed in different directions like so many loose marbles on a slowly spinning merry-go-round to enjoy the Atlanta afternoon however they saw best.  I, spent the next hour and a half setting up the private wine cellar at SHOUT Restaurant with my soon-to-be Father-in-Law for our rehearsal dinner, while my lovely Fiance' went to be pampered at a beautiful and exquisite bridal shower being thrown in her honor at The Four Seasons.  Alan[Melissa's Dad]had made a video for us that he planned to show at the dinner that night, and for which he had rented in a movie-projector and massive mobile screen.  Once the scene was set, we had some time to kill so Alan suggested I come and lunch with him, his Uncle Max, and his cousin Jeff.  I did, and had the distinct pleasure of getting to know those two interesting and engaging gentlemen for the next two hours.  The stories and shared laughs really helped me to settle down a bit and get outside of myself for a time.  Then, back home to an empty house[the dog was already in the kennel, where she would have to stay for the next couple of weeks while we were busy being honeymooners].  I showered, put on some fresh clothes, and went out to run a few errands involving flowers, flower petals, and some candles.  Once all was in place and each line of my to-do list was checked, it was time to go to the rehearsal dinner.  My Mom and Dad were so wonderful and sweet to put on our rehearsal dinner at one of the coolest and hippest night-spots/restaurants in the downtown area.  The whole event was just a smash including the food, the video Alan had prepared[extremely moving and touching, I think I had some dirt in my eye a few times], and the speeches made by our Father's.  With lots of love, lots of laughing and lots of crying, the dinner was just a great big success that was wildly appreciated by Melissa and I.  Again, it was time to go home and try to convince my eyes and mind to submit to sleep, tomorrow was to be our wedding day!!
        Okay, so I'm sure most people that have been married know that sleeping the night before the big day is practically  laughable.  I don't think I slept more than 2-3 hours, tops.  But, whatever - today was the day I had waited for my whole life!!  I don't think men necessarily dream about their wedding day the same way women do as little girls who want to grow up and be a princess and wear the gown and have the ball etc., but it is something we think about.  I had hoped it would happen someday, and since I'd met Melissa, I'd prayed it would be with her since I couldn't see myself ever even being capable of giving my heart to another!  And so, now, here we were.  This was to be the day I would stand before my family, friends, and God to vow my lifelong loyalty and commitment to the girl of my dreams.  She was off being pampered/beautified/whatever it is women do when they get ready for something really big, and I was left to do - what else?  Go to Waffle House!!  My Mom and Dad and Brother drove out and met me at the Waffle House nearest me[and where my favorite server works who always gives me a hard time with her back-woods, trailer-park-with-blow-up-furniture, just-fell-off-the-turnip-truck southern accent.  "Excuse me ma'am, can I get a cup of coffee?"  "No you can't."  "Okay, thanks."  "How about a waffle and bacon-biscuit?"  "NO.  I'm tired."  Sooner or later, she winds up plunking down a sweet tea for me on the table, and slinging me a plate of food - sometimes, if I'm lucky, it's even what I ordered.  Why do I keep going back there.....?].  Anyway, breakfast was greasy and good and I was full.  Me and my Dad hung out together afterwards, hitting up a music shop and just kinda catching up on some quality time together.  Then, it was back home to shower, shave, and get ready to go get married.
        The ceremony was to be at 6pm that evening, but I had to check in to our wedding night suite at The Georgian Terrace first, at 3pm.  The Georgian Terrace is a beautiful 100 year old historic hotel where everyone stayed for the Premiere Party of "Gone With The Wind" back on Dec 15th, 1939[almost exactly 70 yrs before our wedding!], and is a place Melissa has always been enamored with.  After making sure to do some personalization and finishing touches to the room, I was picked up by my best man and groomsman to be delivered to the Wimbish Mansion[our wedding location].  Now, let me tell you something - when you spend a year putting together ideas and details for an event, you think it's going to be cool and you hope it's going to be spectacular, but you don't really know how the end result will look until it's actually done.  Well, when I walked in to the Wimbish, I was BLOWN AWAY.  I will never forget how beautiful it all truly was.  It was warm, and dim, and candlelit, and up-lit, and soft, and elegant, and romantic.  I mean, I'm talking romantic.  There were flowers everywhere.  Bunches of them covering everything, in their white and red splendor.  Truly a sight to behold.  Now, all I had to do was kill and hour and a half until showtime.  Let me tell ya - I could not sit still.  I paced, and paced, and drank Diet Cokes, and paced, and fidgeted, and paced, took some pics and video with my boys, and paced, and paced.  That 90 minutes, was tough!!  That was probably the most anxious I've ever been, and ever hope to be!!!  I was ready though, I was ready.  And before I knew it, it was time.  The officiating Pastor - Dr. David Cooper, Senior Pastor of Mount Paran Church of God in Atlanta, GA[who has been a constant source of inspiration and spiritual encouragement to both Melissa and I for the last year or so, and whom we felt so very blessed to have marrying us]had arrived and after a little small talk, the moment came for us to walk out in front of all of our gathered loved one's.  Out we went, and up onto to the stage I took my stand.  The harpist's hands were interpreting the music of angels, and I felt as if my heart would surely burst.  Suddenly, the music stopped, and a new song["Dodi Li", which is a Hebrew love song]began, indicating my bride was about to walk out.  And then........there she was at the top of the stairs with her Daddy.  Pastor Cooper took my arm at this point, and whispered in my ear "take a good look - you are gonna' remember that the rest of your life.".  I believe him.  I have never seen ANYTHING like my Melissa in that moment.  Words could never even hope to describe how incredible and transcendent her beauty was.  It was just an inside-out glowing pureness of the likes few will ever see[at least outside of the fortunate attendants].  People often refer to someone looking "like an angel", but Melissa actually resembled what I imagine an angel must actually look like - for real.  Good work God.  I watched her walk up the aisle, towards me!  Unbelievable.  When she was finally within reach, I grabbed her and pulled her to me, unable to hide my relief at being within the same breathing space as her once more.  She does that for me you know - helps me feel like I can breathe.  The rest of the service was a bit of a blur, to be honest.  I was lost in that dream-like state I spoke of earlier, unable to believe this was happening.  My sister read some scripture[quite well, by the way - I was proud of her], and Dr. Cooper spoke on love and commitment being a covenant.  Then, I had a song played that I had written and recorded for my bride entitled "When I Look In Your Eyes".  She had wanted me to sing, but I told her no way!  I knew I wouldn't be able emotionally to get through singing live, so I figured this would be the next best thing.  Plus, it was a surprise that she didn't know about[I'm big on surprises, they're fun!].  After all of that, he said "repeat these vows after me" which I did, and then she did, and before I knew it he was declaring us husband and wife and told me I could kiss my bride!!!  And I did!!  Like, 10 times!!!!  I couldn't help it!!!  We were immediately whisked off and up to take pictures, and eat some finger food before going down to be "officially" announced at our reception.

        Whilst we had been busy being the focus of the camera's lens, our guests had been enjoying a wonderful cocktail hour with live jazz including piano, upright bass, and sax[I really wish I could've been there, that stuff is my fave!].  Now it was time to party - "ladies and gentlemen, please give me a hand in welcoming our newly married couple, Mr. and Mrs. Tony Sims[weird!!  awesome!!!].  Now we were off and rolling!  As we sat at our sweetheart table[which is really just a small table for two], the food starting showing up as well as well-wishing guests and family.  The dinner was fantastic, the vibe was awesome, the room had been completely transformed since the ceremony into a kind of posh, classy, over-the-top grand ballroom filled with glowing light and flowers and I was still shaking my head going "is this real?!".  Next it was time to cut the cake, which was honestly too cool for words.  The girl who made our cake is the most incredible artist, and she did exactly what we wanted - and it tasted even better than it looked!!  We didn't really know exactly how to cut the cake[no one ever really gave us any kind of instruction]so, I took the knife in hand, and cut two teeny-tiny bite size cake cubes.  It was kind of funny, people laughed, and we ate our incredibly small "bites" of cake!  Then, back to shmoozing!  A couple of glassed of champagne later, your's truly was ecstatic, in love, and feeling no pain.  So, it was time to take the microphone from the band leader, and declare my love for my bride in song.  I sang a couple of songs for Melissa including "The Way You Look Tonight" [which I meant every single word of]and "How Sweet It Is[To Be Loved By You]"[which I also meant every word of!].  That kind of kick-started the party, and people were getting loosened up by then, so it was time to dance!  Let me tell you something, you haven't really partied until you've danced with a room full of Jewish people.  These folks know what to do.  We all just had a blast getting crazy, and I threw down some pretty sick moves - yeah, it happens from time to time.  The party was in full swing, and everyone had a smile on.  Those few hours, were some of the happiest I have ever had in my whole entire life.  I've never had such a feeling of being filled up and somehow, totally, complete.  It was awesome.  And too soon, it was time to go.
        I had convinced Melissa months before, that I had settled on just renting a standard black limo for our post-wedding transportation, but that wasn't quite true.  She has always had a deep love for horses, and I thought it would be most appropriate to include her favorite animal and hobby into our most special of days.  So, I commissioned a horse-drawn carriage to pick us up at The Wimbish Mansion, and take us all the way down to The Georgian Terrace[which is at one of the coolest and busiest areas of downtown Atlanta, right across the street from the Historic Fox Theater].  The only problem was that there is some kind of zoning laws in that particular stretch, so the carriage company had to arrange for the police to escort us on our trip.  I told Melissa to enjoy it, because it's probably the only time in our lives that we will shut down Peachtree Street with a police escort!!  Our photographers[the amaaaaazing and incomparable ALMASY]arranged to meet us down at "The 'Terrace" to take a few more shots in that incredible space before we called it a night and headed up to our suite.  So, after a few more pictures and before we turned into a pumpkin, we stepped into the elevator and went up, up, up, crashing straight through the roof and into the rest of our lives.  Our wedding, was a dream come true.  "Dream Come True" is one of those phrases that is way overused, but in this case, it is perfectly accurate.  I could've never expected to have so beautiful and wondrous a wedding, and I am the luckiest man in the whole wide world to have the best wife a man could ever ask for.  The night may have been a dream, but it is only the beginning.  This fairy-tale is far from over, and in fact has just begun.  The best is most definitely yet to come, but we surely could not have started this marriage any better.  For I am my beloveds, and my beloved is mine from December to Eternity, 12/12/09 ----------->

Gratitude Dude.

Well, I think I've finally hit that point.  "What point" you say?  The point where you're old enough to stop looking at the world through hungry eyes that flash with desperation.  You know - desperation to be recognized, to "make your mark", to have all of your wildest and most selfish dreams come true.  The point where you are able to take a good, hard, slow look around and realize that you have a LOT to be grateful for.  Is this what they call........maturity?!  Nah, couldn't be....I'm only 31.  But it's probably something very similar, or maybe even a little taste of it.  Either way, the other day I was looking at the TV, watching some show about troubled kids being parented by surrogate "tough love" parents for a week.  It made me think about my own childhood.  It made me think about my teen years.  It made me feel like that was a lifetime ago!  While watching that program, I think I actually had a glimpse or small understanding of how hard it must have been at times to raise me.  It made me feel very, very grateful for my parents.  It helped me[admittedly, in a limited sense]understand how hard they worked to provide for me.  How much they sacrificed for me.  How much they tried, and how they did the best they could.  Honestly, I don't know how common a thing that is anymore.  It really kind of clicked in a moment, and humbled me.  I wasn't always the easiest person to put up with.  I didn't always try my hardest, or my best.  I did things that they disagreed with, and even when they told me how they felt and what they expected of me, I did them anyway.  I was dishonest and disrespectful at times.  Through all of that, they loved me.  They made some of the best moments in my life possible, because they cared, and they put up with me through my worst, even when I didn't deserve it.  That, is amazing love.  Now of course, looking back, I wish I could revoke every one of those moments that fell short of the mark, because they deserved better.  Obviously and unfortunately that is impossible, but I can absorb and use what they have taught me.  I am so very appreciative of the nurturing parents that they were, and the supportive and encouraging parents that they continue to be.  I think about the people in my life[family in particular]a lot.  I am fascinated by the choices God made and makes.  I firmly believe in God's plan, and His greater awareness.  I think it's absolutely incredible that out of the billions and billions and billions of human beings who have graced and presently reside on this planet Earth, God chose THOSE two people to be your parents[my parents], don't you?  One of the ten commandments is "Honor Thy Mother and Father".  Think about the selection process!!  We are darn well supposed to honor them, because God thought very long and hard about that decision!  I think it's amazing, and I think my Momma and Daddy are amazing for stepping up to the plate.  The older I get, the more understanding and grateful I am becoming.  Now to just work on that darn maturity.........!!

The Big Bailout

Politics.  Man, I HATE politics.  I get so sick and tired of these overgrown school children with their popularity contests and "my camp is better and bigger and smarter than your camp" mentalities.  I've harbored a lot of frustration and anger over the political system for quite awhile now, and today I've decided to blog it all out.  Why can't we just sit down as a people, take a look at the problems at hand, and figure out the best way[s] to deal with them like grown adults?  Why can't we respect and honor each other and let our concerns revolve around what is truly best for the man[or woman]next to us instead of playing financial and/or power games?  I try to watch the news to stay up on what's going on nationally/globally because I am legitimately interested, but have reached a point where I can barely stand to watch the "news" networks because of the political slant and bias[based on the party affiliations of the controlling interests]they put on everything that comes down the pike.  You know something?  I didn't vote for Obama at this last election.  You know something else?  I didn't vote for McCain either.  In fact, I didn't vote.  I told myself the reason that I didn't was because I had moved from MN to GA, and didn't get my ducks in a row for the absentee mail-in ballot in time.  However, that excuse was only partially true.  The other[and maybe bigger]reason was that I didn't like either one, period.  I think politics as a whole are a crooked, greasy business, and politicians can be trusted no further than I can throw them.  I simply didn't want to vote for McCain, and I didn't feel right about Obama either, so I didn't vote at all.  How's that for some honesty??  Bush did this....Obama did that....the Iraq war was a misled mistake...the bailout plan isn't working and it's Obama's fault....Bush was/is dumber than a sack of rocks.  Whatever.  Then, the other day at Church, it was all put into perspective for me through the always enlightening and often inspiring Dr. David Cooper[Senior Pastor of Mount Paran Central Church in Atlanta].  If you are a Christian[and I am]then what exactly are you worried about?  He asked us "do you believe in God"?  I do.  He asked us "do you believe the Bible is the divinely-inspired word of God"?  I do.  He said "then do not look to man for guidance, but look to God"!!!!  Doh!!!  Oh yeah.....that's right - -  God!!  Sometimes we forget all about Him!!!  If you believe that God is the creator of the universe, and that He sent His Son to die for our sins and salvation, than does He not surely have His finger on the pulse of ALL mankind?!  Does He not know what happens before it happens?  Are not all things possible only because He allows them?  Surely!  So why do we struggle over whether or not we are Republicans or Democrats??  I've got a better idea - how about we all stand together as Christians?!!  Now THERE'S a revolutionary idea!!!  Why don't we worry a little more about why they are throwing bibles and prayers out of our schools and a little less about how Barack is handling his first year in office?  I'm here to tell you, the world is not going to end because some nutbag in Iran gets his hands on a nuke.  If you want to know how the world is going to end, in fact, my suggestion is that you go read the last book of the bible.  As Dr. Cooper loves to say, "READ THE BOOK"!!!  Want to know how to handle your finances?  Read the book.  Want to know how to how to have prosperous relationships?  Read the book.  Want to know how to be a good husband/son/daughter/mother/child?  READ THE BOOK!!!!  You want to concern yourself with the ways of the world?  With earthly things?  With politics?  Go ahead.....I'm going to continue to try to set my sights heavenward, like He instructs us to do.  I feel a whole lot safer trusting God with my life than George W or Billy Clinton, that's for SURE!!  Which leads me to my point - the bailout package.  Lately, I've heard lots of talk about this unsuccessful bailout package, and how we are no better for it.  You wanna know something?  We have already been handed the real "bailout package" and it happened two thousand years ago on Calvary.  Thanks to God's unbelievable mercy and grace that I do NOT deserve, I don't have to worry about what man does and says.  I already know how it's going to end anyway.  Others can go ahead and seek the guidance of the president or their political parties, I choose to turn my eyes heavenward and await the coming King.  

Life and Limb.

I've been on a interesting journey lately.  You see, Melissa and I are "registering".  Registering..........what a bizarre deal this is.  "Registering" is [apparently]where you choose a couple of different stores that you and your bride-to-be enjoy, go to their "wedding registry" information desk, and sign some papers.  What do these papers say?  I honestly don't know.  By the time they've been signed, I've always been one or two 620z'ers of "Rooster Booster" energy slurpee deep, and fighting off the jittery hands/blurry eyes that are the consequence of said action.  Inability to pay attention to [virtually]anything seems to also accompany the afore mentioned symptoms, so all's I know is that I sign the papers.  They could presently own the rights to the blog I am blogging for all I know.  After I've inked my John Hancock, they give me a gun - - - - - YES!!!  Now we're talking!!!  Yeah-they give you a gun, and you get to run around the store and "zap" anything you think you and your sweetheart may need and/or desire within the confines of your near and newly consecrated[future]marriage.  This could mean a blender..........or this could mean a lemon zester - it's completely up to ME[I mean us]!!!!!!  I gotta tell you, so far, Melissa and I have been to three different stores.  At two of the stores, the "Registry Officials" have informed us that we really need to register for more.  At the third place, we've registered for one[yes, ONE]thing.  I don't know how it's happened, but I've slowly come to realize that we are simply not good register's.  We need to learn how to be a bit more greedy it seems.............anyway, we'll learn with time I assume - we do still have 5months to add on after all.  By the time we're done with all of this, I plan on having a vacation for 4 to Bermuda and a miniature pot-bellied pig named Elvis[loooooooongtime dream of mine, it WILL happen someday]on that list.  The point to all of this rambling friends, is this: whilst perusing one of our registry stores over the weekend, I noticed a display table.  Upon the rather attractive display table was a very chunky, heavy, impressive silver tray.  Layed within and atop the container fashioned of metal, were some mossy limbs.  By this I mean actual, mossy limbs.  Like, actual mossy limbs that you might find outdoors on any given nearby forest bed.  Now, that struck me as odd, but not altogether unfathomable.  What truly blew me away, was that there was a PRICE TAG on the mossy limbs!!!  These twigs retailed for $25.00, but were now on sale for $9.99!!!!  For limbs?!??!!  TEN BUCKS FOR LIMBS??  And, to clarify, that was APIECE!!  TEN BUCKS APIECE!!!!  I mean, any decent and self-respecting household would want at least three or four of those puppies to do the display itself justice, right?  So, now we're talking a minimum of $30-40 for limbs!!!!  Unreal.  I had no idea.  I truly, truly had no idea that our American society had been reduced to this.  These were for sale in a reputable and popular store in an upscale shopping district in Atlanta, which means one thing - SOMEBODY is buying them.  Somebody is paying actual money, for limbs with some moss on them.  I've learned, that when coming to a realization in life, you can do one of two things.  You can either: A. accept it as truth and decide what you are going to do about it, or B. Stick your head in the sand, play dumb[lot's of people choose this method in life, by the way]and pretend it doesn't exist.  Well folks, you can't hide from the truth, and I have decided what to do about it.  I say, "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em".  So, I've done my research and found a wholesale distributor[the Chattahoochee River Park]not even a half-mile from where I live with an endless supply of product.  I am going into the limb business.  TONY SIMS' MOSSY LIMBS.  Just let that marinate for a minute.....rolls off the tongue pretty nicely huh?  You can place your orders with me now, and get in on the front end of this deal 'cause you know the demand is only going to up.  TONY SIMS' MOSSY LIMBS - "tell a friend, tell a neighbor, get yours now or regret it later!!"  Email me today - buy two mossy limbs for only $18.99, and get the third limb free!!  That's a savings of nine dollars!!  AND, that's not all, order right now to receive at no additional charge, a handful of dirt!! That's right - FREE DIRT!!!  Just tell 'em TONY sent'cha................

STANDING IN WONDER

Melissa and I were talking yesterday, and I shared with her something that had happened this last Wed, June 17th on my lunchbreak from school.  After I told her, she said how cool it was, and that God had told and shown me quite a few things this last year or so. She said maybe I should think about writing them down so as not to forget[which I thought was a good idea]and so here I am.  First of all, this year I decided to give my life to Christ.  I have carried around the "head knowledge" of the good news of Jesus all of my life, without ever really realizing what it meant to my life and my personal relationship w/God.  I never really "got it" until 2008-09, and once I gave my heart to Him, a few very interesting and cool things happened.  First of all, I was working part-time at a local grocery store to help make ends meet.  One day out of the blue, a guy around my age or slightly younger walked up to me and said he had been walking through the parking lot when God suddenly impressed it upon his heart to come over and tell me He[God] was thinking about and loved me.  That was it.  He wanted me to know that God wanted me to know how much He loved me.  And then, he told me to have a great day and walked away.  That was it.  I was a bit taken aback and flustered, but after chewing it over for a minute I felt energized and joyful. Not a miracle perhaps but a pretty cool moment nonetheless, and it definitely warmed my heart - I immediately felt the spring return to my step[I hated that job!]and left that evening in a good mood with a refreshed outlook.  

     A couple of months later, Melissa and I went to an Art Fair in the Marietta Square.  It was a really good time, a beautiful day, and I walked away w/a bag of some of the best fresh-roasted candied almonds I've ever had!  Before we left though, we took a walk down an alleyway and found a really cool little place near a doorway w/some brickwork and cobblestones and, since we had our camera w/us, sat down to snap some candid shots.  While we were finishing up, a blond headed-boy/man[he looked between 16-20]came up and started talking with me.  He asked me if I was a Christian[or told me?], and I told him that I was indeed.  We chatted for about 10-15minutes, and during the course of conversation, he told me that there was something really special about me, and that God had big plans for my life.  He said I had a purpose and a calling on my life, and although he didn't know what it was, he told me to just be obedient to God and know his joy[I'm paraphrasing a bit, I can't remember word-for-word, just bits and chunks].  Then, he gave me his number and told me to call sometime if I ever just wanted to get together and have coffee or something.  I never did call him, I guess I was a little freaked out at the time......I still think about him every now and then and wonder what would've happened if I'd called.  

     The next one was a bit more interesting, and honestly gave me the willies[in a good way]when it happened.  It was shortly before Christmas 2008.  I had been out Christmas shopping, grabbing a few last-minute things for Melissa.  I drove home, unloaded the bags of stuff I'd bought into my closet, and sat down to write a blog on my MySpace page.  I was in the Christmas spirit[the real Christmas spirit NOT the "Santa Claus and Elves" thing....]and began to write about the beauty of God's gift to us.  I mean, He borned His Son into our dirty, sinful, human world so that we might eventually[after we'd abused, harrased, discounted, doubted, scorned, and mocked Him]know salvation and eternal life.  Thusly, I concluded my blog with John 3:16["For God so loved the world......"]and went back to my closet to collect the things that needed to be wrapped.  I picked up the first bag, a bright yellow plastic bag from a popular and secular clothing store and focused my attention on some small, fine print on the very bottom of the bag[not anywhere you'd see it if you weren't looking for it].  As my eyes adjusted to the words, I couldn't believe it - there it was, clear as day: John 3:16, "For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeith in Him should not perish, but have eternal life".  I just about jumped out of my skin, I was so tweaked out!!  And, I was home alone!!  I actually felt like God was staring right at me, letting me know He was there w/me all along, and all the time[!].  Truly, unbelievable.  Could it be coincidence?  Maybe to you, but definitely not to me.  No way - I was there, and it was a really, really cool and personal moment.  I still get the goosebumps a little when I think about that one....!!

     Which leads me to my final and most recent story.  Two days ago, I got in the car and drove across the street on my lunchbreak.  A new Sears Outlet store had just opened up and I wanted to check it out.  When I got there, I wasn't done eating my packed lunch yet so I parked out in the far middle of the parking lot by myself.  I was the only car out there, and I was listening to some Christian music I had burned onto a CD a few days before.  I watched a taxi cab pull up slowly in front of me, and roll down his window.  He never stopped completely, just slowed down, dumped something out of the window, and kept driving.  Whatever he dumped out was in a bag and he kind of poured it out as he rolled by.  When the bag was empty, his window went back up and he kept on driving until he was gone.  All of a sudden, a few birds came down and started eating whatever he had poured out.  Then, a swarm of birds materialized and joined in the feed.  It was incredible!!  I'm talking, hundreds and hundreds of birds directly in front of my car eating whatever this disappearing cabbie had poured out before me.  As the music inside the car played, and I watched this flock, I[there's really no other way to explain it]felt God talk to me, in my own mind.  He told me[as I stared at these birds]"see these?  I will provide for you just I do them.".  Then, I became aware that out of all of these birds[I think they were pigeons, but I honestly don't really know]there was one white one.  All the rest were dark in color except this one, white bird.  I felt God tell me "see that one?  You are that one - special and unique to me, as is everyone.".  And, that was it.  That's all He said, but those few words said soooo much.  In fact, it really touched on some personal notes with me, and made me aware of His love and closeness.  I literally felt as if He was right there with me, real enough to touch.  Unbelievable.  He is so amazing, and so loving, and so deserving of our praise and unwavering loyalty.  I thought it was so very cool how he impressed upon me that I am special and unique to Him, as is everyone.  We all are.  He loves each of us as if we are the only one, and that is the coolest thing I think I've ever heard in all of my life.  I made me realize a deeper connection to Him, and to each other.  It allowed me to feel fulfilled, and humbled at the very same time.  I guess that's where I'm striving to live, and maybe that's why and what He was impressing upon me.

     Melissa reminded me[after we'd discussed these occurrences]that I'd been wishing and asking for Him to reveal Himself to me.  I'd heard other people's stories of ways that God had made Himself known to them in a palpable way, and they always bolstered my faith and left me hoping for something similar in my life.  As we looked back and recounted these different situations that have taken place over the last year or two, she helped me realize that God had indeed reached out to me and left me with some cool stories, just as I'd hoped.  He is my desire, and constantly proves Himself to be cooler than I even thought possible.  Honestly, I'm just eternally grateful to belong to Him.

Dog backwards spells GOD.

I was just looking over my last few blogs, and realized that it's been awhile since I've written anything, and the last few things I have touched on have been pretty serious.  I think perhaps it's time to blog about something a bit more lighthearted.  There are a few TV shows that I like to watch[if I'm quick enough to get to the remote before Melissa, otherwise I might as well put on some shoes and go take a long walk because the next few hours are going to be full of "Bridezilla", "Whose Wedding Is It Anyway" or a terrible Lifetime movie.......man I hate Lifetime].  "The O'Reilly Factor" is near or at the top of my list, along with "Operation Repo"[ever seen it?  Those poor dudes get attacked on a daily basis.....!], "Gene Simmon's Family Jewels", "America's Funniest Home Videos"[that show makes me laugh out loud and scare the dog everytime]etc.  You know - good 'ol junk TV.  But friends, there is one show - one special show that takes the cake.  "Dog The Bounty Hunter".  This man amazes me, and I mean AMAZES me.  I tell Melissa all the time, I think Dog is the Elvis of our generation.  Here's a guy with bleached-blond hair running down his back in a fashion way too cool to even try to liken to a mullet, with the front/top sticking straight up in the air faux-hawk style.  He wears shirts unbuttoned aaaaaaaall the way to the navel, so that his man-boobs can hang out a little to entice all the women.  His somehow-always-beet-red skin looks as though he has sat out in the scorching desert sun for at least 225 years.  He was once a junkie criminal that did hard time, but now fancies himself a bounty-hunter[or, as I believe, closer to a super-hero].  I respect the fact that he has turned his life around, does his best to contribute to society, and gets paid to have people watch his adventures on television.  It's the American dream.  What puzzles me about the man, is his spirituality[?].  This is a guy[and, let's not leave the family out - they're all in on the act after all...]who will hunt the bad guy down, kick doors open w/metal-tipped snakeskin boots, and unleash the Chapman clan on you swat-team style while wearing his Batman belt[the belt contains the all-important cell phone holster, leather gloves, handcuffs, pepper spray and other unidentifiable miscellaneous items]and screaming "get down you M#@*& F%&*@#ER!!!!!!!" while pushing his younger son Leland to take the suspect to the ground forcefully, even though nine times out of ten the startled and wide-eyed bail-jumper is not resisting in the slightest.  Then, once the perp is in custody, it's off to the Cadillac Escalade[I've noticed the upward mobility this last season.....they used to drive humble Suburbans....]to talk about what crimes they are facing.  After the air has been cleared a bit, Dog likes to give the prisoner-to-be a fatherly talk about what they are doing with their life, and how they can make the same successful changes that he has.  It usually has to do with kicking drugs.  "Bra, you gotta kick them drugs yeah?  You know that ice takes your love and steals your soul.....".  Then[and this always FLOORS me!!!]he offers them a cigarette.  "You need to get clean, and healthy and start making good decisions......."now, "do you want a cigarette"?!  Come on - are you kidding me Dog?!?!!  We all know that cigarettes are PROVEN to kill people.  It's a fact, if you smoke and smoke long enough, you will die before your time, guaranteed!!!  Then, he huddles everyone around, and prays.  He prays!!  He prays in the name of Jesus Christ!!  I'm not saying he doesn't love Jesus[and it's not my place to judge or point fingers at anyone, believe me]but can't you just kind of see God watching all of this and wincing a little when Dog Chapman closes w/prayer in Jesus name?!  Kinda like.....GOD: "um, Dog?  Maybe you could just do your thing and leave my Son's name out of this......?  I know you're trying to help and all, but we just don't really need press right now coming from a guy in a leather kimono who recently admitted guilt concerning his racist language and everyday use of the "N" word in reference to African-Americans?"  I don't know, maybe it's just me but I find the yin-yang of Duane "Dog" Chapman's life compelling, and at the very least, excellent television.  Aloha.

"Patiently, I will wait."

I saw the movie "Fireproof" the other night. I'd heard many people talk[more like rave]about this flick, and finally had the opportunity to sit down and look at it. While some of the acting left something to be desired, it truly was excellent. I encourage any and everyone to watch it, particularly if you are married or about to be. Within the movie, one of the things that really jumped out at me was a song called "Waiting" by John Waller. This song describes EXACTLY how I feel and where I'm at in my life. It's tough sometimes to follow God. Mainly, because I never really know where I'm headed or where it is He's leading me! It's so much easier if I'M in control, 'cause then I have all of the answers. However, trusting Him and His plan for me and my life means relinquishing all control and running on faith and the belief that He has better things in store for me than I could ever imagine or devise for myself. I'll tell you what though - however hard that may be to do, I still do it. I do it because I trust in Him, and believe in His plan and His greatness. Truthfully, I feel I can't afford NOT to[!]. I've learned though, that when we do trust God to lead us down the path that He has laid before us, there is sometimes some down time. Down time, is tough. It's hard when you don't know where you're going, and you don't know exactly what you are supposed to do yet, and it seems as if you are just waiting around. Human nature says to get up and do something - anything!! Make something happen, get moving, and if things aren't happening right this minute, then FORCE THEM!! But when God is gently whispering.....wait...., it can be difficult to deal with!! John Waller's song speaks directly to and about that, and it hit me right where I live. I may not be where I want to be at this moment, but there is plenty I can do, and so much to enjoy and be grateful for while I am waiting. After all, and I've heard it said a million times - "life is not the destination, but the journey". We[I]need to remember to try and enjoy every minute of every day, and accept these moments for what they are - a gift. All of this will make sense some day, and our earthly lives will be over before we even know it. Do not allow yourself to get caught up in selfish desires[I'll be happy when I have more money, or get that promotion, or next year when I'm.....etc.], but know His joy NOW, even while we wait!!!

Graduation Day

What can I say, sometimes the desires of the heart change. I have done more soul-searching and decision making in the past year, than I have collectively in the other twenty-nine of my life. One of these decisions has involved finally finishing High School. I dropped out when I was seventeen[partly because I was so far behind in credits that I didn't care anymore, and partly because I thought an amazing music career was right around the corner waiting to fall into my lap, along with gobs of money that would rain down magically while Sinatra's "My Way" played in the background....]and never really thought I would graduate. Actually in my foolish immaturity, I kind of prided myself on the fact that I would never play "by the rules" and "give in to the system". Boy was I cool.....and by "cool" I mean stupid. The truth is, I had a hard time paying attention when I was younger and instead of buckling down and putting in the hard work, I gave up and walked away. Well, the love of a good woman, along with age and encouragement, can do amazing things to a man. I've been fortunate enough to experience these things, and it helped me make up my mind that going back to get my diploma was something that needed to be done. In fact, it was something that I WANTED to do. And, I'm glad to say that I did. I really only had a couple of weeks to study, and was sweating it a little when it actually came time to test[especially the math part!]but I went in and did my best. Turns out, my best was more than good enough, and I passed with flying colors[honestly, I was a little surprised!]. I now have my GED, and will never have to refer to myself as a "dropout" ever again. I should've just done it back in 1996, and wish I'd had the perspective then that I do now, but I guess it's better late then never, right? Anyway, thank God for second chances, for new life, and for tomorrow. Today, is my Graduation Day.

It's not so much the heat, but the humility.

Spring is here. Everything is changing again, ready to bloom. The fruit and flowers have been biding their time, waiting for the perfect chance to arise and declare your happiness. The rains have been in agreement with the plan, and have done their part perfectly. Winter will be no more, nor drought, nor cold. The sun is ready to shine for you, to bestow it's magical powers unto your skin, leaving it's proof in shades of golden brown that please the sight of sunglassed eyes. Thank God the long stretch is over, and life will begin again. So it is on the inside for me, as well. Multitudes of deep down changes have occurred in such rapid succession, I could not pretend to know where to begin an explanation. Actually, that is untrue. It all began with, and returns to, one word - humility. This year, I learned the all important lesson of getting over yourself. I finally came to the conclusion that my life revolved one hundred and fifty percent around ME. What I wanted, what I desired, what I thought was important, what I held close to my heart, what I thought was the best plan, what I thought was the right way, what I thought others expected of me, what I thought I was entitled to, and how my identity was wrapped up in what I thought I was. I took one stone out of the wall I'd built up, and the whole dam broke wide open. Thank you, humility. This year throughout the long winter months, the old me slowly withered and died in a dry, dusty heap of what used to be. Goodbye, good riddance. I now have room to breath, to grow, and to bloom into the newness that awaits up ahead and unknown. You'd think that very fact would've invited anxiety, but has actually done the opposite and promoted internal peace. I am finished trying to force things into the mold I want them to fit into, but instead look heavenward for my guidance and plans. I am so extremely thankful for this emancipation, and more than a little excited for tomorrow's promises. It's gonna be a crazy, busy, and hot summer down here in Atlanta, GA but you know what? It's not so much the heat, it's the humility.

We're Bolton like Michael.

I've got two words for you - Michael Bolton. The very mention of the man's name evokes indescribably deep emotions and you KNOW it. Whatever happened to this guy?? How in the world did someone so talented[both vocally, and in the hair follicles]become a used-to-be, has-been, nearly forgotten joke? I'll tell you something right now - NOT ON MY WATCH. I'm bringing Michael Bolton back. I don't know how quite yet, but I'm dead-set on restoring this man's respectability and lofty position as possibly the greatest singer ever. Maybe you forgot some of the songs that shook you to your soul, that made you feel ALIVE for the first time. Remember when he asked us "How Can We Be Lovers When We Can't Be Friends?", or when he told how he "Said I Loved You, But I Lied"? Remember what it felt like to pump your rock fist to such classics as "Steel Bars"? Speaking of classics, how about the gut-busting rendtion of "When A Man Loves A Woman"that made you wish you had the might of the mullet so that YOU could get all the chicks? Or the cover of "Sittin' On The Dock Of The Bay"that was somehow 19 keys higher than the original Otis Redding version? Remember how his rough soprano impressed, made you uncomfortable, and left you to worry about the health of his throat[or the possiblilty of a hernia]all at the very same time?! Pure genius. Well friends, it suddenly came to me in a flash the other day - Michael Bolton not only needs you and your "Time, Love, and Tenderness", but YOU need Michael Bolton. Maybe it's been too long since you've asked yourself "How Am I Supposed To Live Without You"? Yep, and if you want to stand up and help me make a difference in this world -you can do what I've done - go out, and buy Michael Bolton's greatest hits. Get in your car. Roll down the windows[spring IS in the air...]and crank, again - CRANK your favorite Michael Bolton tune!! I think you'll find the grass looks a little greener, the flowers smell a little sweeter, the air feels a little warmer, and the people you pass on the streets of life will return your gift of gloriously transcendant music with a wave or a smile. Probably both, and they may just involuntarily dance a bit as you drive by, because they will hear you. There is only one way to listen to Michael Bolton after all, - LOUD.

God Bless M. Bolton -

T

Almasy - Why not take Almasy?

I have been in love with the same girl for a dozen years. Absolutely not a shadow-of-a-doubt-about-it-good-old-fashioned-head-over-heels in LOVE. When we met, I had been working with her Uncle[he was managing me at the time], and he had told me several times about his niece who was coming into town. He said she was beautiful, smart, and just a really good kid. He told me that he thought we would really hit it off, and that I should ask her to do something when she came out to my show that night. So, I played the gig, and at the end of the night I went out to meet her. However, regardless of what everyone thinks about me, I am not necessarily the smoothest cat around when it comes to girls[everyone does think that.....right?]which would explain why I was so nervous[and wearing sunglasses indoors after midnight]. I was so nervous in fact, that I didn't have the guts to ask her out on a date. Instead, I told her that her and her sister should come hang out with me and my buddy Dave[Smokey D, my old bass player]at the Valley Fair Amusement Park while they were in town. I mean, I was eighteen after all. Luckily, they agreed and the next day we went to pick them up. We had to drive all the way up to Plymouth, MN to collect them from their Aunt's house, and as luck would have it the sky clouded over and threatened to storm on the way to the Park. Time for plan B. And, when you are a Twin Cities kid from Apple Valley, plan B almost always involves the Mall Of America. I mean it IS the biggest mall in the nation, and women love that stuff. So we wound up at the Mall where we went to see "Face Off"[the John Travolta flick]and I proceeded to[again]wear sunglasses throughout the entire movie. In the pitch-black theater. I think I was in a Roy Orbison phase.......anyway, that[somehow]didn't scare her off, so the next activity involved an indoor Ferris Wheel and a guy[me]with a belly so full of anxiety that I couldn't bring myself to sit next to her. So, I stared at her from across the buggy through my black-out Ray Ban's while Smokey D was left to wonder why he'd been dragged along on this excursion. At evening's end, Melissa told me they were leaving town the next day to fly back home. She gave me her phone number[which I've found out since was something she was certainly NOT accustomed to doing]and told me to call her sometime. Well, apparently I didn't believe her, because I didn't call her. I'm telling you, I thought when she said "you should call me sometime", she meant "ohhhh, you should call me sometime"like, whatever dude-I'm just gonna say the old "you should call me sometime"line because that's just what you say when you've spent your entire evening with someone and his sunglasses and don't want to be rude. In other words, I was clueless. I really couldn't believe my eyes, because this girl was everything I'd privately told God I wanted in a woman, and I just couldn't wrap my brain around the idea that she just might actually want to see me again. But, according to her, she did! Anyway, she went back to Atlanta, and I spent the rest of the year trying to forget her. Which I aaaaalmost did, until her Uncle informed me a year had passed, and she was coming back. Well, we got together again, and it was pretty much over from there. We were inseparable for the remainer of her stay[two weeks!]until it was unfortunately time again for her to return home to Georgia. However, this time when she left, it was as my girlfriend. We lived apart, long-distance for ten years. We flew back and forth hundreds of times, wrote letters, emailed etc. We broke up two or three times throughout that decade, but could not seem to shake the love we felt for each other. I'm telling you I'm talking about real-deal, earth-shaking, honest-to-goodness, the stuff dreams are made of and the kind-everyone-wishes-they-felt, kind of love. I could never really put it into words, actually.......i would die for her. Finally, at 29yrs old, I decided enough was enough and that she was the only one I wanted to be with for the rest of my life. I went ring shopping, and brought her up to the North Shore of Minnesota on her Birthday. There, near dusk in a private cove, I got down on one knee and[trembling]proposed to her while trying not to fall into the water. Her "yes" was THE sweetest sound my ears have ever heard, surely. Shortly after, it became clear that I would have to move and make my home in Atlanta so we could be together. I did, and I have, and have never been happier in all of my life. We are to be Wed this December, and already have many of the details in place including wedding photographers. We were turned on to this amazing award-winning husband/wife team[ALMASY] that does incredible work in Atlanta, and secured them to do our pictures. They asked if we'd like to do an engagement shoot and[even though we've already been engaged for a year and a half!]since we'd never actually had one done, we thought it was a cool idea. So, we did, and here are some of the pics:

I've had a few dreams in my life. Living thus far has taught me that dreams don't always come true. I think, perhaps, it's a rare man who gets what he wants and dreams for out of life but gratefully, in my case, this dream came true. I have learned that if love is meant to be, and if it's the good kind that belongs together and is destined, it will endure all.

- T

Thank you for the years, Minnesota.

I am "officially" a resident of Georgia. I went into the nearby[and always scary]DMV yesterday, stood in line[s], showed various forms of identification proving I was myself and slowly, ultimately, surrendered my Minnesota Drivers License. Actually, there was a moment. There was a moment when I realized I was really going to get my new license[I was almost convinced something somehow would crop up at the last minute to taunt me and postpone the issuance, leaving me to throw a tantrum and go clomping out the slammed door while swallowing deep down the string of profanity I wanted to but would not allow the new, improved, spiritually peaceful version of me to spew], and smiled and chatted a bit with the middle aged African-American woman behind the impossibly and purposefully tall desk before me. I'm telling you, that desk came up to my chin, and I didn't like it. But, it seemed all was progressing effortlessly and that I would claim the prize for which I'd come. After reviewal of my papers, and after I'd signed some lines, she handed me back my documents. All but one, that is. My Minnesota State Drivers License sat squarely in front of her, illuminated softly by the light of her computer terminal. It was almost.......pretty. That wonderful license had been my friend and lived in my left front pocket for almost ten years. We'd been through the mill together, and she'd never let me down. Even when my care left something to be desired, and left her nearly drowned in a cold wash cycle of Purex water, she still came out smiling and tirelessly ready for service. How often had that license proved my age and identity in the face of doubting bouncers, gas-station attendants, and casino officials? Many my friend, many. So, naturally, I was eager to have her back where she belonged and that's why I stood there. I stood there waiting until the woman finally let the irritability I'd worked so hard to diffuse creep back into her face and voice. She said, "can I help you with anything else?" and I said, "no I think that'll do it - are you gonna gimme my license back"? That's when it hit me, and that's when she said "oh no, you have to surrender this to me and go stand in that line over there to take your picture and get your new one. Good day, Sir". Surrender? Good day Sir?! I JUST BROKE UP WITH MINNESOTA!!!! I can't believe it......I've ALWAYS had a MN license, I've ALWAYS been a Minnesota resident, but not anymore -"Good day, Sir"! And just like that, it was over. I knew when I moved down here last November[the day after Thanksgiving, I began driving south]that I was moving for good. My mind was made up, and I was taking the bull by the horns, and that was that. Come what may, I would make my home in Atlanta, GA with the girl of my dreams. And I did, and I have. I just never anticipated the rush of emotion I'd feel at "surrendering"the card that proved I was from Minnesota, and indeed a Minnesotan. I love the land of the ten thousand lakes. I love Apple Valley. I love my incredible family and friends. I love the Mall of America[it opened on my Birthday for crying out loud]. I love Minnehaha Falls. I love the Kindho Vietnamese restaurant in Uptown that makes fried rice so good, it makes me want to binge and purge only to binge again. Uptown!! I LOVE uptown!! Downtown, oh I LOVE the Minneapolis downtown!! St. Paul! While I don't particularly love the St. Paul downtown, I do stand tall for St. Paul and the Science Museum, which I LOVE!! I love the fact that I can go out in the Twin Cities, and within one night hear great live acoustic music, great live rock music, great live alternative music, great live blues, and r&b, and funk. What a wonderfully diverse music scene in the most inconspicuous of places!! I love weekend Brainerd trips with friends, and I hold an extremely special place in my heart for the North Shore. My Dad had told me for years, "Son, you've just GOT to take a weekend and do that drive up the North Shore", and I found out how right he was[thank you, Dad!]when I finally drove up on July 20th, 2007 and proposed to the love of my life. It was amaaaaaazing. I love you Minnesota, and I miss you sometimes. Just not at winter times. I don't want to break up, but my life has changed, and I have to move on. You will always be in my heart, and in my song eternal. This boy born of Shakopee will never forget you.......when the wolf cries and the fish whistles, I will be with you my sweet Northern love of yester me, yester you, yesterday.

If I Never See Snow Again.........

Snow. We had snow yesterday, in Atlanta Georgia. It was in fact, beautiful snow. Giant, white, glistening crystals of awe-inspiring uniqueness falling slow and fat to the ground. Everybody was bustling about, remarking in excited tones about the majesty of frozen precipitation. Everyone, but ME. For I am from MINNESOTA. I have seen more snow, and felt more cold and wind and ice than any human being should ever be allowed. I believe, actually, that winter weather should be made illegal. I am going to write a letter to President Obama[that was just the first time I've ever written President Obama, and it seemed weird. What a strange name for the President.....anyway...]asking him if there is some way to make snow and ice illegal. Or maybe figure out a way to tax it[but, only if it works really hard and is successful]. Now, I understand the whole thing about a blanket of snow on a hillside at Christmas time being magical and all of that crap, but let's get real Georgia. Snow is beautiful when it melts within an hour and you can go back about your business knowing that this freak cold snap will be over in a few days when the temps head back up towards 70 degrees for the upcoming weekend. Snow is beautiful on a postcard picture, or in the movies. However, when you grow up in a place like Minnesota and you actually have to deal with real winter weather for 29 yrs, and you move to a place like Atlanta, GA where the weather is generally incredible except in the summer when it's hot[but weather is SUPPOSED to be hot in the summertime, and it's more fun to sunbathe and swim when it's a little too hot anyway]to hopefully escape terribly traumatizing elements like snow and ice, I guess you'll just have to forgive my lack of enthusiasm. It's not that I want to ruin the fun, or dash your dreams of what it must be like to live in a place where it "snows like this all winter". It's just that I know better, and you don't. You don't understand that the snow is pretty when it falls, but in a half hour or so that pretty white snow is gonna look more like a root-beer slushy. You don't understand about cold that pulls you out of your house at 5 o'clock in the morning to go start your car so it can warm up, while you scrape and brush the inch-thick layer of the devil's breath off of your windows and headlights. Or, about slipping on the skating rink beneath your feet while doing so, resulting in a cracked tailbone and wounded pride. You don't know about loading out from a gig in Stillwater down near the river in the middle of February with a 15 below zero windchill blowing straight into your face no matter which way you turn. And shovelling. You don't know about shovelling. You don't know about the snowblower that gave out last year, and that you should've replaced but didn't want to because your brain had no problem coming up with a cooler way to spend $1200, only to suddenly remember this year while walking out to the driveway in the middle of a storm system that has promised to dump another six inches on top of the five that already exist, that you made that dumb decision and now will suffer the consequences along with your newfound best friend Mr. Shovel. You don't have any idea about the backache waiting for you once you've finished. Or should I say, once you THINK you have finished, because I can virtually guarantee that when you've ridded your beautiful blacktop of the evil white slop, the big bad snowplow will come down your street and fill the end of your driveway back up with what used to be your neighbors problem. Georgia, all you know of snow is that when the weatherman says it's coming, it's time for you to drive to the store like an idiot at 4 and a half miles per hour to buy milk, bread, and pallets of water just in case[God forbid]you are trapped in your house for two hours while the "pretty" snow melts. You don't know how good you have it, you don't appreciate the mild warmth that blesses your skin and blows through your always-stylish hair for the lions share of the year. You just wonder sweetly and innocently in your honey-touched native tongue if you'll "get to see snow!!!"this winter. Lucky for you, you've never really known what winter is and Georgia, for your beautiful and naive' sake, I pray you never do. TS, out

Okay......you asked for it.

Blogger. Is that what this makes me? So now I'm a blogger? I've been a lot of things in my lifetime, but I can honestly say I never thought I'd hold the title of "blogger". It's an ugly word, really - BLOG. But nonetheless, here I am blogging. Here, let me blog a little more and see how I feel......where to begin....?? So, I live in Atlanta now. I moved to Atlanta from Apple Valley, MN about 15 months ago to escape the same things I'd known my entire life, but mostly[and most importantly]to be with my fiance' Melissa. I could never, ever have imagined the drastic personal changes that would take place as a result of that decision, but I'm not going to blog about that now[although I may in the future, this blogging thing is starting to feel pretty good.....the keys are kinda gettin' warm under my fingers, maybe this is why Minnesotans looooove their bloggin']. No, I'm gonna spare you the heavy duty deep stuff[this is only my first blog after all, I don't wanna scare you off right away...]and tell you about a little thing called "Post Riverside". The "Riverside" is where I live. This place is amazing, like, truly amazing. It's a great big gated-community w/it's own town square where we have things like a bank, a steakhouse w/bar, a dentist, a hair salon, a deli, a gym and a tailor. You don't really ever have to leave if you don't want to. The whole thing is set-up to look like a sort of European village, and there are white Christmas lights strung up around the long winding drive in, as well as the town square so that at night it kinda resembles a Disney World version of an apartment complex. It's really, really beautiful and is kinda really expensive, which is why you'd think you'd get your own parking space in front of your apartment. But you don't. Let me tell you about some of the neighbors who love to park in the parking space that should be mine, oftentimes leaving me to park half a lot away from where I actually live and almost exclusively on days where I decide it's time to bring home pallets of bottled water and industrial sized cans of green beans for the dog to inhale w/out even tasting[yes, we give our dog green beans w/her meals]. First is our next door neighbor[who actually lives above us, the apartments in our area are actually more like two-story townhomes]and whom we refer to as "Zombie". We've lived under Zombie for 15 months, and I've seen him about 3 times. We call him Zombie because of the lifeless gaze of his black-ringed eyes, and his preference of only being seen at night - no matter to me, Zombie is a good neighbor who keeps to himself and barely makes a peep. On the other side is Ms. Brenda. Brenda[whom we call either "Cougar" or Brenda Lee]is a latina middle-aged divorcee' who drives a silver Jaguar presumedly paid for by the settlement her ex-husband gave her. I don't really think she does anything other than sunbathe and hook up w/Sconie at night for drinks on the town. "Sconie" is the neighbor on the other side of Ms. Brenda Lee, and she moved down about 9-10months ago from Wisconsin!! Even in Atlanta, I can't seem to get away from Wisconsin. I'll never understand that state. Cheese??? I mean, cheese is good but they have such amazing pride in that coagulated milk and mold........anyway, Sconie is your typical mid-western girl who traded in her sedan for a fire-engine red convertible within the first five minutes of arrival and drove around with her top down even though it was still winter here and only in the 50's. Sconie and Brenda Lee love to pair up and cruise for men in that convertible, and I think they feel like pretty hot stuff in their matching head bandanas. Yep, they wear matching head bandana's when they go trolling. HOLY CRAP!!!! I've just realized I'm "blogging" away like crazy and I'm not even close to done.......this honestly might've opened up a whhhoooole new can of worms for me!!! Anyway, back to the 'hood - next to Sconie lives "that couple". We've never really called them anything other than "that couple" for some reason. "That couple" has one kid, and two dogs. One of their dogs[the mid-sized, long-haired dirty white one]only has one eye and barks alot. Outside. When I'm trying to record in my spare bedroom/studio/workout room/dog kennel room/office. He always seems to know when an important "take" is happening, and just when to blow it with his incessant barking. It almost makes you wonder if the neighbor that lived next to them wherever they came from wasn't quite as patient as me and that's how he lost the eye....? Anyway, the female half of "That Couple" is the Mother of a two year old and she goes on 16 or 17 walks a day. I mean, I've honestly never seen ANYBODY walk as much as she does. She also seems to come bolting out of her front door every single time I leave or come home, leaving Melissa and I to wonder if she sits on the other side of her door staring though the peephole for us - wait for it......wait for it........there they are - wait for it.......NOW!!!!!!!! Still, they are harmless too and her Australian husband is never around, which almost makes me feel bad for her. Ah well, walk it off. On the other side of "That Couple" is my favorite and yours, "Sandwich Johnson"!!! Sandwich is a single, late twenties/early thirties dude who has received his name for no other reason than he's a good 40lbs overweight[not obese, just a man who doesn't deny himself the pleasure of fattening foods]and who I like to imagine has a red hot lusty passion for a really, really good sandwich. I don't know the guy, have never exchanged words with him at all, I just know he drives a dark grey Isuzu Rodeo and that I like to call him Sandwich Johnson. Directly across the lot from us, is our favorite neighbors - "Hello Friend" and his wife!! "Hello Friend" and his wife are Italian or something and speak broken english w/heavy accents. "Hello Friend" got his name one bright, warm, beautiful spring day when I stepped outside my front door and almost fell over him. He was sitting on my front step in a pastel striped lawn chair reading the newspaper. I was immediately put-off by this stranger sitting ON my front step mere inches from my front door, when he looked me square in the eyes and said loudly and condfidently "Hello, friend!!!". My irritation was immediately diffused and replaced by amusement by this man who seemingly meant me no harm, he just didn't understand personal space or why it would be weird to be sunbathing on my front step instead of his own. I mean, it WAS a beautiful day, and he called me "friend" so what's the big deal ,right?? Well, the big deal ended up being that this would become a nearly daily occurrence, and in time, he would become comfortable with leaving his easter-egg striped chair in front of our apartment for hours at a time while the whole neighbor hood drives by thinking we are the trash in 262 who have the worst taste imaginable in lawn furniture. One day, I finally said to him - "boy, it is so gorgeous out that if I were able,I'd be at the pool". Meaning, why are you sunning your sweaty Italian middle-aged man body on my front step instead of at the pool[of which there are two on our property!!]? His wife overheard and said "oh you like the pool? We've never seen you up there.....", well - that's because you are always busy hanging out at my front door!!!!! They're really nice folks, though. That leaves only the "Grumpy McGee's". Every story has a villain, this story's villain is "The Grumpy McGee's". This old, sour couple who have two wire-terriers that they just love to let poop aaaaaaallllllllll over the property and not pick up. These people will never, ever, ever look you in the face - and if they do by accident, they will scowl quickly and look away. They are the crabbiest people I have ever seen and we are completely clueless as to why! We have gone out of our way to be friendly and smile, and wave - nothing. They simply are not having it from us or anyone else. I've never seen anything quite like it. One day, I actually ran into Mr. McGee in the mailroom - he didn't see me in there and he came in whistling and chatting up the mail-lady who was dropping off the day's deliveries. As he made his way back towards the teeny-tiny metal box I can barely get my hand in and out of without a wound, he saw me. Everything kind of went into slow motion and I remember thinking "here it is, this is the day Grumpy McGee and I will actually talk, there's nowhere to hide"as he realized who I was. By then, he knew there was no way out and he couldn't just turn around and leave w/out that mail[how else would he be able to collect his coupon for 99cents off of his next box of Dentuclean??]and so he looked at me. He looked at me, and he grunted. It wasn't a word, and it wasn't a greeting, it was a grunt. And that's all I got. I'm gonna tell you right now, those McGee's are NOT messing around. I don't know what their deal is, but they mean business with their grumpiness. He also means business when he pulls on his shorts so he can show off his old-man chicken legs, and he ONLY chooses to do that if its below 35degrees. I have seen the man wear Khaki pants and loafers even if it's 103 outside, but if it's below 35degrees I guarantee you Grumpy McGee's wife is grumpily pulling out his washed, ironed, and spray-starched shorts for him to proudly display his goosebumped las piernas, and it's time to let the dogs poop all over "Post Riverside". So, basically, those are the main characters in the story of my and Melissa's life in Post Riverside, Atlanta, GA. All of this beauty is backed right up to the Chattahoochie River[yep, the one Alan Jackson wrote about]which is another story for another day. And believe me, there will be other stories - Jean, Melissa, - I hope you girls are happy and I hope you realize you deserve this monster you've created. For I am proud, and I am aware of who I am. I am Tony Sims - Blogger Extraordianaire.