Uncle Rico Hair

The office hosted a wonderful farewell Joe lunch today, replete with American flag tattoos, hamburgers, hotdogs, and Uncle Rico hair. The hair was marketed as "Used Car Salesman Wig" in case I needed any handy disguises but the guy on the front looked more like Uncle Rico from Napolean Dynamite.

While Sarah and I were walking down to the party room, we passed my boss talking to one of our distinguished education professors. This professor really blessed me, he stopped and thanked me for serving the country, protecting the freedom we have here.

He is originally from South Africa, now a naturalized U.S. citizen and he told me how the opportunities he's had to do scholarship on special education issues, would have been possible in no other country except the United States. It really blessed me. I've always respected this professor. He's funny and writes great op-eds. and here.

I wasn't wearing the Uncle Rico Hair yet.

Love of Country

One of the first great discussions in the legacy of great discussions between myself and my wise wife was predicated on a comment I made about not being very patriotic. The whole misty-eyed flag thing never did it for me and I saw a lot of cool movies that challenged the ideas of patriotism, which as an idea was largely supported by the decidedly uncool culture of country and western music (uncool as determined by a 17-year old)

   The change I have felt in my heart over the past year or so could easily be chalked up to convenience, that it will be easier to join the Navy if patriotism figures into the mix somehow, despite the fact that many join the military for entirely un-patriotic reasons.

   I'm not a flag waver, but I believe that every time I walk into a restaurant in a place like Virginia Beach, Virginia, and that most of the people working there do not have English as a first language, in a strange way, I feel a surge of patriotism. On Tuesday, Sarah and I shared the best pizza we have ever had together, from an ethnic Greek restaurant. The proprieters were Greek-American, and very Greek. I think about Prima Pasta in Brownwood, Texas and the Romanians that run that place and I have one question. (Perhaps StarlightBernice could answer it better) 

WHY WOULD ROMANIANS WANT TO LIVE IN BROWNWOOD?

The same reason Mexicans want to live in Brownwood. (Or Oklahomans for that matter) Because America is a great, diverse nation, full of opportunity and prosperity. I'm excited about serving my country in the Navy and protecting the opportunity for not only Americans, but pre-immigration Americans around the world to come here and live out old dreams in a new land. If you haven't watched the Spelling Bee Documentary "Spellbound" this idea is all over that film.The idea that a young girl whose father doesn't even speak English, but that she can reach her goals and her dreams in this country, is simply amazing.

I have a few mixed emotions about building the next six years of my professional career in the Navy. I would much rather create something good, rather than react to something evil. But for now, God is calling me to serve this country in a military capacity. I'm still working out those mixed emotions.

In the meantime, I could go for a serious Chinese buffet.

Smell what this guy is stepping in

This man, Evan Sayet, is a former joke writer for Bill Maher. He knows the way the modern liberal thinks because he was one.

I thoroughly enjoyed what he had to say about why modern liberals think the way they do. This is a must watch for anyone who has ever beat their head against the coffee table shouting, "Why? Why? Why?"

Or any liberal who is interested in knowing, not only why they are wrong, but why the very suggestion of wrongness feels offensive to them.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eaE98w1KZ-c

Adolescence on Hiatus

My brother and sister-in-law are blessing Sarah and I with a trusty Toyota Camry, a much needed transport for our lives. Sarah hates my Saturn, so we were both, very excited to receive a car that Sarah will like to drive.

The only issue is that the car is in Texas and we are in Virginia. Money is tight till I start making the big bucks in the United States Navy (yep) so Sarah and I had to make a decision on how to raise some money to buy plane tickets to San Antonio so we can drive the car back to VaBeach.

Cagey, is the best word with which to describe how I felt about walking into Volume: CD exchange with a box full, F-U-L-L of more than a hundred of my favorite albums.

I walked out of there with a much lighter box and a $250 check, more than enough to cover one of the one-way tickets we will need.

I think Sarah may have felt sadder about it then I did, trading what was nearly a complete, Joe Miracle CD collection, for a car.

Sarah kept on reminding me that when we are out of debt and making a good living, I can always buy the albums back. So, until then, my adolescence is on hiatus.

abs

I've been fat for too long.

Now, my ab muscles are being called upon to perform a duty they had not anticipated, be strong.

Be strong little ab muscles. Be strong. Do thy sit-ups faithfully. Burn the fat rigorously. Unfriend the barbecue. Forsake the McGriddle of thy youth.

The Navy has ab standards.