More Stray Thoughts

Doctor Who Episode - Blink

This might be my very favorite hour of television. I have confessed before that I am a fanboy emeritus. Doctor Who is decidedly in that vein. I watched the Doctor on public television when I was a kid in the 80's. It was a BBC produced science fiction program featuring a time traveler know only as the Doctor.

It had been going strong for over 20 years due to a nice little conceit - whenever the Doctor faces mortal danger and is near death, he has the ability to regenerate. His body heals itself and through the process a whole new body is created. As a result, the show has had 11 different actors portray the Doctor. The show got shrill and loud and boring in the late 80's and was cancelled. But it was brought back in 2005.

In its hay day, when I was a kid, the special effects just sucked out load. No other way to say it. Rubber masked space aliens and space ship cabins made out of an all too obvious cardboard. But the writing, oh the writing. They just nailed it. They challenged my imagination and they played charades with quips and non sequiturs. I loved the stories.

"Blink" was made in 2007 and does not have the Doctor in it much at all. It featured Carrie Mulligan as a guest star before she started making movies - she's gonna be a star. There were a whole range of guest stars that we as the audience have never met until this episode and yet you find yourself relating to them like you have "known" them for years.

And the tension. Doctor Who - the best of Doctor Who - could keep you on the edge of your seat, then make you laugh and then jump out of your skin a couple of times an episode. This episode does exactly that. It feels like childhood for me. Take a peek if you get a chance and it should make you a fan.

The Sawmill

When I was twelve my dad took me out to the sawmill for a summer job. Most of the saws were older than I am now and had been patched back together by Dad and his business partner. Not the safest place to work for a grown man much less a child. And the work was hard. Stupid, back breaking hard. And I loved it.

I don't know exactly what my parents were thinking. It is literally a miracle that I have all my fingers and toes and both of my eyes. I saw some folks out there who could not say the same by the time it was over for them. But it did have the effect that I knew I wanted to find an easier way to make a living. And I have NEVER worked so hard for so little ever again in my life.

At first I was a board layer for the guys nailing together the pallets. A couple of summers of that and I became a board catcher taking the boards or 2X4's out of the gang saw or knotcher or champer. The next year I was one of two cut-off saw operators - later that same summer I was one of one cut-off saw operators.

There were only about three folks who were fit enough, aggressive enough, and stupid enough to run the cut-off saw by themselves and I was one of them. The head saw cut the logs in to cants - basically taking off the outer, rounded, bark - covered layer and then cut the log down to the thickness of the final board or 2X4. The cants come down via rollers to the cut off saw to be cut to the proper length.

Manhandling those 10 foot lengths of wood to the saw, turning any curve in the log away from the blade to get a straight cut and then taking the cut lengths and rolling them down to the gang saw was simply brutal. And I loved it. I knew I was good at it and I knew that not many people could do it. Great exercise too. Kept me thin and fit each summer.

Dad Revered Motherhood

My dad lost his momma when he was a child. He never really got over it. He never got to have the fights and arguments and all those other little frustrations that you and I take for granted. He sees his mom and all mothers through the eyes of the four year old who never got to see his mother again.

When I hit my rebellious years, my dad was driving a truck so I rebelled against my mom. That led to a few parental moments for dad to deliver when he got home. But this little story is not really about me.

A young boy was in front of Dad at a check out counter at a convenience store and this kid was about nine years old. His mother was with him. The kid was cussing his mom for all he was worth and she was not doing anything about it. Apparently, Dad took as much of this as he could stand.

He took hold of the back of the young man's neck and lifted him to his tippy-toes and pulled him back so that as Dad leaned forward, he was cheek to cheek with the young man. "You shut the hell up. That is your mother and you will treat her with honor and respect at least while you are in my presence. Do you understand?"

The child could not speak so Dad said, "The right answer is 'yes sir.'"

The kid said it and his mother was just turning around and realizing what was happening with an angry look on her face. As she was about to say something in anger to Dad, he said," And you shut the hell up too. Be somebody he can count on, not someone he can abuse."

Mom Is Honest

My dad once said of my mother when he was in a college class, "I don't know what she is doing right now, but whatever it is, I approve of it."

My mom is the most honest person I know. She was once told by one of her principals - she was a school teacher - that she was one of the most honest people he had ever met and that he was not sure he meant that as a compliment.

I warned my wife before she met my mother to not ask my her a question that she did not want an honest answer. She smiled and asked what I meant. I told her, "You know how you can ask some people if an outfit makes your butt look big and then will tell you yes or no?" She nodded. "My mom will tell you, if this is the truth, that no, the outfit does not make your butt look big. Your fat ass makes your butt look big."

My wife is a nut for honesty. You lie to her and you are done with her. Done. Full stop. Got no use for people she can't trust. She loves my mom. I do too.

Mom is Not Weak

I have never understood weak women who let life happen to them. I assume that I find them so confusing because I was not raised by one. My mom is one of the toughest, most indomitable people you will ever meet. Not one person who knows her can ever think of her as weak.

She is smart too. Went back to college after having 3 boys (I know - how smart could she be if she had 3 boys for crying out loud) and at school only made two "B's" the whole time she went. She was different from my dad, in that she has never been one for long winded philosophical discussions. She is somehow too direct for that.

She is a great judge of character as well. If my mother tells me there is something wrong with a person or situation, I knew that at some point, this is going to be an obviously accurate statement. She has a freaky sixth sense about it. I don't understand but I still count on it.

Dad's plan was always to retire and travel around with Mom. In the almost 16 years that Dad has been gone, she has gone all over the country seeing the sights. She is trying to lay everything out where she can make a trip to the Holy Land. Nothing, and I mean nothing can hold her back.

Oh, and you may think I would worry about her going over to the Middle East with everything that goes on over there and how unpopular Americans are abroad. I don't though. I think they all better mind their P's and Q's or they will have that little old lady to deal with.

I just got this mental image of my mother standing in front of a terrorist in the dessert saying, "No. That assault rifle does not make your butt look big, your fat ass makes your butt look big."

Done for now. Time for sushi!

Stray Thoughts

This post is not going to be about anything in particular. Just random, stray thoughts that I have that I want to clarify through the written word.

John Williams - Fraud

First of all, John Williams is a thief. The man who has provided the musical back drop for so many of the most popular movies of my life time, is a fraud. The da-dum, da-dum from Jaws is exactly the opening notes of the finale of Dvorak's "New World" Symphony No. 9. And that would be bad if that was the only time that he did it. But there are huge chunks of the Star War movies and just about everything else he has ever done that are just not his work.

He has become rich and famous by re-introducing a new generation to classical music but has done a horrible disservice to those artists whose work he has stolen. Dvorak is a genius. He said in 1893 that the musical lineage of our country would come from negro melodies he heard while visiting America. Jazz and rock and roll have become the fulfillment of that musical prophesy.

If Williams had used Dvorak's music, but given him the credit for it, maybe more people would appreciate Dvorak. But chances are Spielberg would have then assigned an intern to find classical music that would add depth and resonance to his movies and Williams would not have become rich. At least Dvorak did the work that should have earned him the credit.

Johnny Cash and Hank Williams, Sr Lived

Go out and buy or download their greatest hits and sit down out on the patio with your favorite beverage and listen to them all the way through. Listen to the songs that you know from the first few notes that you are not going to like. Listen to the ones that have been used in movies so often that you think you know them by heart.

There is pain, joy, confidence, regret, anguish, indulgence, remorse, and defiance to be found there in voices that will hold your imagination within the confines of a song. Go watch the video of Cash covering the Nine Inch Nails song, "Hurt". I have said before on Facebook that it is a song you appreciate more than enjoy.

Should Have Gone with the Wookies

Apparently Return of the Jedi was supposed to be set on the home planet of the Wookies instead of the Ewoks in the original screenplay. Go back and look at the movie. Go on. I will wait.

Now imagine the tension if Leia had been found by a seven foot tall Sasquatch instead of a midget in a Teddy Ruxpin Halloween costume. What if the assault on the force field generators featured 50 or so Wookies all ticked off and gargling Listerine the way Chewbacca did through all three films. Would have been a whole lot better movie.

Harrison Ford - Bad Actor

The best thing about Harrison Ford is that he is such a dependable actor. You know what you are going to get. The trouble is, it is always the same thing. His angry Han Solo has the same facial expression as a scared Indiana Jones who has the same facial expression as the angry face of the guy from Working Girl who has the same facial expression of the brain damaged Henry from Regarding Henry.

He's made a lot of money and he has stared in some of my favorite movies, but he has the emotional range of a turnip.

Olives

I used to hate olives. Now I find myself craving them. I love them stuffed with jalapenos and I could eat a whole jar at one time and call it breakfast. I have heard that your body craves things based on some deficiency it is trying to remedy. What am I not getting enough of - salt or fat?

Priorities Change

There was a time in my life when a title and a big raise would make a career decision a foregone conclusion. But my view of things has slowly evolved. There are now things in life more important to me than money or status.

I like living close to a metropolitan area, so a big raise and a nice title in the boonies is not for me. I like having time and energy to read books and write a blog, so a big raise and a nice title that requires 16 hour days is not for me. I want to work for and with people I respect, so a big raise and a nice title while dealing with bullies and liars would not be for me.

Wanna Win the Argument or Solve the Problem?

The sarcastic comment that really puts someone in their place does exactly that - it locks them into whatever side of the argument they hold. I am an extremely talented verbalist. That is a fancy way of saying (with a made up word that sounds very plausible) that I think well on my feet and have an extensive vocabulary. I put the SMART in smart-ass.

But people who have been embarrassed or outclassed in an argument, will almost never be your ally, much less your friend. If there is something that you want someone to do, you better find a way that they leave the conversation feeling better about themselves. Most of the time that means you have to take the time to explain yourself instead of giving orders, ask questions instead of making accusations, and look for things to praise others for instead of waiting for someone to pat you on the back.

Talking Tough to a Clerk or a Waiter is Lame

A friend of mine and I went to dinner at a very busy Outback steakhouse in Baytown, TX. The staff was doing a great job of turning over a table very quickly when customers left. Busboys and waitresses were seating folks as well as the two hostesses in an attempt to get those of us waiting for a table, seated as quickly as possible.

Apparently, one of the waiters had seated some folks and not given them silverware. This table had what looked to be a married couple and a single male friend. The single friend went ballistic. He called the waiter over and asked him what kind of F'ing idiot brought people to a table and delivered food but no silverware. He proceeded to ask the kid (the waiter had to be in his teens by the looks of him) just how stupid was he? He went on and on while the kid apologized profusely and was trying to decide if he was supposed to stay there and take his beating or go get their silverware. If he walked off to get the silverware while the man was still cussing him, would that make the guy even angrier?

Our waitress helped out by bringing over silverware and helping to get the kid out of the line of fire.

Now here is the fun thing. I don't know if that kid would have taken that kind of tongue lashing if he was not at work. Maybe he would have or maybe he would have popped the guy right in the kisser. But how fair is it to abuse someone, when, if they spar back, they could lose their job? That is the height of bullying and in this case I could not let it pass for some reason.

We were sitting two tables over to the right and I was looking directly at the table in question. I said to my friend, "What a freaking coward," and I said it loud enough for everyone around us to hear. I could tell my friend was uncomfortable and to be honest, this was not the smartest thing I have ever done. If I were to get in a fistfight in the middle of a steakhouse, I could have lost my job too. But I figured the guy was actually a coward so I kept on.

I said that it takes a really big man to challenge a kid at his place of work. I said that the guy looks like a punk and I bet he can hear me but there is no way he will say a stinking word to me. I don't work here and I could knock him flat on his ass. No, he is going to sit there and pretend he can't hear me even though he and his friends aren't saying a stinking thing but just looking straight at each other.

I went on to say that I could not stand a gutless punk who picks on folks who can't fight back. I mean, if he wanted to confront me, I would be happy to go out to the parking lot and discuss it with him. Again, I said all of this as if I was talking to my friend and not confronting the guy directly, but the point got across to him. He did not say another angry word (or much of anything else) for the rest of the night.

Other folks there heard what I said as well. Our waitress brought me a beer that I had never ordered and never showed up on my bill.

Rich People are Right About Some Things

I have seen movies and television shows where folks of wealth are drinking expensive 18 year old Scotch. I have had whiskey in my life and most of it was truly awful and needed a Dr. Pepper to make it palatable.

I eventually got to try an affordable Scotch at a tasting at a gourmet wine and spirits store. That led me to try a thirty-five dollar glass of Scotch at an expensive steak house. Expensive Scotch is a whole new animal. You have to let it sit in the glass so the flavors can develop in the atmosphere. Depending on the brand, you can taste caramel, vanilla, smoke and a variety of other flavors. And there is truly very little burn at all.

I went to another restaurant and tried a seventy-five dollar glass of Scotch ( I know, but it was a special occasion). It was a twenty-five year old Scotch that retails for around $700.00. It was a truly amazing taste of smoked caramel / vanilla that made me warm and tingly all over. I found out later that the same distillery has a 30 year old Scotch that retails for over $1000.00. I have never found a place that sells it by the glass so I will never get to try it. But I am sure it is wonderful.

Truffles are a crazy stupid fungus that gourmets love. I have always assumed that it was a suped up mushroom. Absolutely wrong. Thanks to truffle oil, I have had a chance to taste truffles. We had truffle flavored deviled eggs and we loved them so much I asked if the waiter would bring me a small sample of the truffle oil. I wanted to be sure that the pungent yet subtle flavor that I was loving in the eggs, was coming from the truffle.

It was. I dipped my finger into the oil and tasted the surprisingly strong flavor. I loved the stuff. I am not a chef or even much of a cook but I started thinking of ways to bring this expensive food of the rich to the soul food of my humble heritage. I would love to cook up a mess of greens and then use truffle oil instead of pepper sauce as the primary condiment. Black-eyed peas cooked with a ham hock and then drizzled with truffle oil just before serving.

Now truffles can sell for hundreds of thousands of dollars for a few ounces. There are some bottles of Scotch that have a price on them that I find hard to believe. But having tried some kinda-sorta-but-not-really affordable examples of things that I had always thought of as wasteful or extravagant, the rich are RIGHT about some things boys and girls.

Late to the Garden Party

My wife fell in love with the idea of a garden after we visited her Dad a few months back. She came back and we potted cilantro, tomatoes, jalapenos, basil, rosemary, and mint on our patio. Of the herbs, the rosemary were the ones that I had the least amount of interest. I have had dried rosemary for years and it just does not tickle the taste buds for me.

But the fresh stuff? Oh, dear sweet Lord in heaven above! Cook a chicken breast with a few sprigs freshly harvested rosemary and you will know culinary bliss. And fresh basil! Put it in a food processor with olive and balsamic vinegar and then serve that on a salad or a pork loin or an old shoe. They will all taste delicious.

The cherry tomatoes are a revelation. They have taste! Such a strong taste that is 10 times more intense than ANY store bought tomato you have ever had. We go out to the patio and pluck them off the vine and eat them like they were berries or grapes. They don't even need salt - salt would actually be an insult to the intensity of the honest tomato flavor that explodes in your mouth when you bite into them.

Why did I not have a garden 15 years ago?

Time for Bed

I think I will do this again periodically. There are a lot of things that come to mind that are easier to resolve my thoughts and feelings about if I have to take the time and think of how I would say it if the whole world got a chance to read it. I enjoy reading comments here and on Facebook about your thoughts on these subjects. I like the idea that I might get you to laugh or make you think or even make you mad. But I am stupid sleeping and I have to work tonight so time to sign off.

Fanboy

I am a comic book nerd. A fanboy. I know things. I have a wealth of esoteric knowledge that is normally useless in most situations. I know that in the new Captain America movie agent Peggy Carter is a brunette, while in the comics she was a blonde. I know that the history of the X-Men in the movies is totally warped compared to the comics history of the X-Men.

I know about alternative realities, various alien wars, and the secret identities of any super hero you can name. I know which super heroes belong to which publishing company and I feel vaguely uncomfortable when little kids are playing pretend and have Batman and Spider-man on the same team. That just ain't right, man.

But I know other stuff too, from comic books. My niece told me that she did not know the point in the Captain America movie of having Cap participate in what looked like a Vaudeville-type show. I explained the whole concept of war bonds and how celebrities assisted in raising funds for the war - something I learned from reading comic books set in World War Two.

Marvel Comics publish a book about Thor - a character from Norse mythology. The book also had folks from Greek mythology. Those characters fascinated me to the extent that I read every single Greek mythology book in the Nicholls School library. Then, thanks to my mom, every book on Greek mythology in the South Georgia College library. Then all the Greek mythology books in the Valdosta State College (now University) library. I was in the fourth grade at the time.

I learned about the Tuskegee experiments from comics. I learned about concentration camps from comics. I learned about internment camps for the Japanese here in the U.S. from comics. That last one I thought - or hoped was fiction. Asked my mom about it and turns out we really did round people up because of how they looked and put them in special camps while fighting Germans who did the same thing. I was twelve and knew that the Germans were evil since they killed as many of their prisoners as they could. I knew that we were just cowardly and racist.

My parents never allowed any of us to use the term nigger in our household. I even feel funny typing it now but, I find something cowardly about calling it the "N - word". Call evil, evil and don't soften it for fear of it coming to power. Comics showed me racism and apartheid in greater detail than anything I saw on television or movies.

There are things that are wrong with comics as well. Women are drawn with figures and clothing that most of us only see in a Fredrick's of Hollywood catalog. The writing for women has improved over the years with Lois Lane moving from the damsel in distress to one of the most feared / respected investigative reporters in the imaginary universe of Superman and company. But we are almost always presented with form fitting, incredibly revealing outfits even for those women who are displayed as warriors.

Another thing is the violence. Don't get me wrong, I love an epic fight scene. I love cool images that evoke the concepts of bravery and honor and perseverance. I love that Wolverine is such a hard case and that Batman is just beyond cool and that the Hulk smashes. But too often, violence is the first resort of the GOOD guys. The good guys are just as likely to make the sarcastic, threatening comment that sparks a violent exchange as the bad guys.

I see people all the time that have verbal exchanges where the whole point is one-up-man-ship and intimidation - while they are at work or with their families. I don't blame comics for this failing in our society since I know that most of our society are not geeks like me. But is it too much to ask in this day and age to have heroes that demonstrate responsibility? This may all be me just getting old and folks may say that reading a comic book where the characters just talk would be boring as all get out.

I disagree. How much tension could you build into a scene where the hero gives the villain every opportunity to be reasonable and do the sane thing? How much scarier is the villain who, when confronted with a calm, deferential hero who is trying to keep violence from erupting, tries to gut him like a fish anyway?

But, I still enjoy comic books. Some of the writers you now enjoy on television and movies, used to be (and some still are) writers of comic books. Gerry Conway used to write the Justice League back in the late 70's and 80's. He was a regular contributor to Law & Order. David S. Goyer, who wrote the movies, Batman Begins and The Dark Knight, is a comic book writer.

The AMC show, The Walking Dead, is based on a comic book. So was Road to Perdition, The 300, Blade, The Crow, From Hell, A History of Violence, The Mask, V for Vendetta and all the other obvious ones that come to mind when you hear the term, "comic book movie".

They are stories with pictures. You know, like movies and television shows are stories with pictures. Some of them are incredibly juvenile while some are horribly violent and then some can bring you to tears. They have the ability to teach. The lessons may not always be the right ones though. They are an entertaining exchange of thoughts like all other forms of art.

Oh, and before I end this, John Byrne drew the best looking Wolverine of all time, The Lions of Baghdad is one of the best books out there (go find it), and Maus (the story of Auschwitz as depicted by mice) will leave you in tears and anger. Take it from me - I am a Fanboy.

2nd Date with my Wife

I may write about my first date with my wife one day.

I may not.

That first date was truly awful. There were enough things that went wrong that it would probably make an embarrassing story - embarrassing, but probably not funny.

It is not that our second date was so much more memorable than the first. Indeed, the first one was so bad that it is QUITE memorable. But the 2nd date was the one that led to our marriage and is a fun little story to me.

We had a sweet little corner booth at the Outback Steakhouse in Baytown. We had a waiter who was incredibly slow. That worked out because we were not in a hurry. We probably talked for 10 minutes before he even took our drink order. We made the normal kind of chit chat that you would make at the beginning of a meal with ours focusing a little more on work than normal because we both worked at the same warehouse.

It was not so much that I was known at our work as that I was notorious at work. I had a reputation that sinful men relish and that women of WORTH overlook if a sinful man is repentant and oh-so-lucky (read blessed). A mutual acquaintance who knew me for only a couple of years had told my wife that if, "that one comes anywhere near you, run the other way."

My wife told me about that exchange on our second date and I had to admit that it was good advice. If I had been her older brother at the same time, I would have given her the same advice and would have been sullen about her not following it. But she did follow it. I had asked her out the first time roughly a year before we had ever gone out.

She clearly remembers turning me down and I have no memory what so ever of that initial rejection. It was during a time when I had lost weight and almost all inhibition. I was asking EVERYONE out and getting "yes's" from enough to encourage a dude. The failure rate was high but you have to understand that a one in 50 success rate was worth it.

There is joy in sin for a season. And there was. I won't write too much about that time. I heard a woman in church giving her testimony and she did not want to "honor the wrong things" and I have been conscious of that ever since. People detailing how Christ has delivered them can tend to aggrandize their debauchery. Kind of like the folks who lament the fact that they had to walk to school up hill in snow both ways, ya know?

For roughly a year I was actively single. Then I settled down with a woman who was just as sinful as me but so much more scarred by life. After a few months, of course, it fell apart. To make a long story short, at the end of it I was homeless, beaten (literally), humiliated (the beating left bruises that led to incredibly accurate gossip), and just about jobless (the lawyers would not let the executive vice-president fire me - but Lord, he wanted to).

A friend of mine had just stopped drinking and cussing and hanging out all hours of the night and I knew he had been going to church. When he and I talked the morning after my beating while I was looking for a place to live and wondering if I still had a job, I asked him what church he was going to on Sunday.

Turned out he gave me a place to live and his church was in revival that week. For those of you who are not churched (and in some ways it is easier for you unchurched to find Christ than those of us who are buried in ritual so don't feel left out), revival is a week long service each night that is designed(??) to REVIVE a church or a community or a county or a country depending on if the revival catches fire.

I went from the lowest point in my entire life to a week long immersion in Christ's Church with people praying for the bruised and battered young man sitting on the end of the pew six rows back from the alter. My brother likes to say that non-Christian people call that a coincidence. Each and every service that week was about me. I am still flattered that the Lord took up a whole church that week just for little ole me. :)

I told the Lord that I would not taint a woman with a relationship with me until He had made me presentable for a good Christian woman. There were two sermons that week where the protagonist had waited 12 years for the Lord to answer prayer. I thought, "12 years? Really?" And then I thought of how well my life had gone with me as the pilot and made a mental note to take up some sort of hobby to get through the next 12 years while I waited for the Lord to prepare a woman to deal with me.

I knew I was a handful, but 12 freaking years? Wow. Okay. I like baseball. I guess I could collect baseball cards? Twelve years? I guess I could learn to MAKE baseball cards.

After the lawyers had determined that the company had no grounds to fire me, I was allowed to come back to work. The bruises had not healed yet and EVERYONE knew some version of what had happened. I had always been the most arrogant of men and now I had been humbled like never before in my life.

Within hours of being back at work, I had to interact with Priscilla about something. She was perfect in following the unwritten script in my head where we dealt with work and never let on that one side of my face was swollen and discolored. Despite all my work on baseball cards, I noticed that her waist curved in like a perfect moon before resting at her hips. "Dangerous curves, boy," I said to myself. I made myself a promise that I would not chase after a woman so soon after having my Damascus moment. (You unchurched go find a Bible and look up Saul of Tarsus - a great story even if you never believe the blatant truth of the encounter).

The next weekend I asked her out again and got turned down for what I would have told you was the first time but she maintains was the second time. Truth to tell, I don't remember asking her out the first time but I LOVE the fact that she does. Flattering even in rejection all these years later. Man, I love my wife.

I found out what her extension was at work and wrote it on a coaster. Kept that coaster on my desk at work for 4 years and 3 warehouses too. I found out from one of her office folks how you pronounce her maiden name - her last name at the time, obviously. The person I asked was a person I had dated and she had smiled knowingly when I had asked for the proper pronunciation. And I thought I was being all subtle.

The name was not simple after all. It is pronounced "DOOB check" and is spelled Dubcak. Why it is not DUB KACK, I have no idea but I knew I would get no where calling her DUB Kack. Two days later, I asked her out again. And she said yes. And I am not going to tell you about that date. It was sooooo bad that I think she gave me a second date just to see if it could possiblly get any worse.

I have not asked her but our second date could have been a scientific exploration of just how bad dating could be. Turned out we had the kind of date that makes for a horrible TV show or movie or short story but makes for a great conversation over a glass of wine four years later on your anniversary.

We met at the Outback Steakhouse in Baytown, TX. We sat in a corner booth and, like I said earlier, our waiter was terrible. We had tons of time to talk and after exhausting all the small talk topics before our diet cokes got to the table, it was time to start laying out the customary lies of seduction or to be honest.

I told her I wanted to be honest. This was not to suggest which way the conversation would go. I had told numerous women that I wanted to be honest with them. It is one of the best lead in's to a lie. This time, though, I actually told the truth.

I told her I was a drunk who spent most of the previous seven years intoxicated except for working hours and most of those hours hung over. I told her that I was angry for no apparent reason and lashed out at any provocation no matter how small. I told her that I sought out women who were damaged and vulnerable and played on those vulnerabilities. I told her that I had all kinds of potential and ambition but almost no discipline to apply it to anything. I explained that I was really not worthy of going out with anyone. I explained that Christ had saved me and that while I was not exempt from the earthly consequences of these actions, that I was delivered from them.

I realized during all of this that what I was trying to do was warn her. I was trying to talk her out of having a relationship with me. I was trying to tell her that she deserved better and that she should run now.

And this was not a one sided conversation. She matched me fault for fault and sin for sin and damage for damage. She was expending just as much energy trying to convince me that I should stay away from her for my sake.

We talked and talked and talked. The chairs were up on other tables and the staff was sweeping up and we were talking. The check had been paid hours ago and the waiter was still bringing us diet cokes as our glasses emptied. Finally, we broke off and let them close the place. I asked her in the parking lot if it would make her uncomfortable if I kissed her. She said it would not and then we had the most awkward and unpleasant kiss we have ever shared.

We stood in front of each other and I finally said, " I can do better than THAT."

She said, " You better," and we cracked up. I kissed her again while still laughing and she exhaled softly on to my lips as a I pulled away.

I found out later that she always called a friend of hers on the way home from work and that she had not made the call yet this night. When she finally made the call while driving home from the restaurant, the friend blessed her out for having her phone off and not calling. "What the hell were you doing?"

"You'll think I am crazy, but I was having dinner with the man I am going to marry."

She wisely never told me this part of our story until we had been married over a year. So that's it. That's the story of our second date.

A couple of side facts: when I proposed, I got the same booth at the same Outback Steakhouse. I told the manager the plan and the reason and he set everything up. Priscilla told me later that the entire staff (cooks, dishwashers, waiters, waitresses, busboys, and hostesses) were all gathered behind me when I got on one knee to pop the question. And yes, the whole restaurant cheered. Might be the only time my wife has been the focus of EVERYONE's attention and she did not care.

Oh, and the 12 year wait? I wondered about that too and during the meal that night cracked up laughing and could not tell Priscilla about it until we were safely married. Apparently I had already completed my 12 year wait. There is a 12 year age gap between the two of us. Some of you will call that a co-incidence, right?