"The Bird" Flies...

Mark "The Bird" Fidrych, was found dead at his home today, where he died working on his 10-wheel dump truck. He was 54. Now some of you who aren't old enough or aren't a baseball fan might have no idea who this oddly curious fatality might be. In the summer of 1976 as the Detroit Tigers were mired in futility, this tall, skinny, New England kid with the blond Afro curls and the gawky bird-like delivery (people thought he reminded them of Sesame Street's "Big Bird") began to pitch and began to win. He would go on to win the American League Rookie of the Year Award and a total of 19 games for the Tigers who finished the season entrenched in 5th place. It was not just his appearance though...he was truly eccentric when he got out there on the mound, talking to himself and to the ball. He would also get down on his hands and knees and fix the holes in the dirt by dragging and pushing the dirt around with his hands, and the crowds loved it. Even though Detroit was losing, whenever The Bird was scheduled to pitch, they packed out the house. Most of you know that I am a Cleveland Indians fan, but like everyone else I was fascinated by this soldier in the baseball army marching out of step with the rest of of the ranks, and I, like the folks in the stands, would rise to my feet and flap my arms when he took the mound. It was a bizarre and remarkable phenomenon. Following that incredible year he picked up right where he left off the next season. winning his first six starts and filling the stands once more. In his 7th start he felt a twinge in his shoulder and came out trailing in the 3rd inning. He would make a handful of major league appearance in the next few years. The arthroscopic surgery that so easily takes care of those kinds of injuries now was not available and he mostly labored in the minors for 7 more years before hanging it up.

I've tried to pinpoint what it was about Mark that drew me and so many others to him. He was successful, he was eccentric, he was an icon for a city...but I think for me what I loved about Mark Fidrych was that he was a little boy in a man's body playing a boy's game. You understand that I love the game of baseball...not as a corporate entertainment product or a marketing angle...I love the game of baseball. There is something deep in me that I learned and lived on the sandlots of my childhood that gets great joy at watching this game played with abandon and passion.

I attended a baseball game tonight for 8 and 9 year old boys. David, one of our Journey kids was pitching so I went to see his game. It is his first year playing and David is a good athlete. He has a lot to learn about the game, but what he does already have is a passion and an instinct for the game, and when he threw a strike he would pump his fist and push his hat up to show a tuft of his blond hair. He never looked over to the stands to see if his parents or other fans were looking...he was totally engrossed and present in the game. When he got up to bat he dug in at the plate and took his cuts confidently and aggressively. He made good contact both times even though he was swung at pitches a little high in the strike zone...this kid wanted to hit! In contrast a couple of his teammates in front of him struck out...often while taking decent cuts...hey, it happens...it is part of the game...Babe Ruth led the league in strikeouts as well as home runs. But these two young men cried as they got to the bench. Those who know me know I am an emotional guy and I cry at a lot of stuff...but never at striking out. Baseball is a game...just a game...a profoundly beautiful and complex game with incredible nuances...but it is just a game. Somebody...a coach, a parent, somebody had forgotten to tell those kids that baseball is just a game...enjoy the fact that you can run, and throw, and hit, and slide in the beauty of a spring evening...it is a game. Mark Fidrych was getting paid to play baseball, but he never forgot the sheer joy of pulling on that glove and facing off against 9 other guys who are there to play too...to PLAY...a great game.

One of my musical heroes is a guy by the name of Bob Bennett. A craftsman of a songwriter, and an artisan of a guitar player, he has an obscure little song from back in the 80's about his brief baseball career. Bob did not have the jock physique as a kid, and, by his own admission, was not particularly athletically gifted, (and he lived in the shadow of an older brother that was) but this tune called "A Song About Baseball" is one of my favorites. Here are the lyrics...

"Saturday on the baseball field, and me afraid of the ball. Just another kid on camera day, when the Angels still played in LA. I was smiling...in living black and white. Baseball caps and bubble gum, I think there's a hole in my glove. Three and two...life and death...I was swinging with eyes closed holding my breath...I was dying, on my way to the bench.

But none of it mattered after the game, my father would find me and call out my name... a soft drink a snow cone, a candy bar, a limousine ride in the family car...he loved me no matter how I played...he loved me no matter how I played.

But none of it mattered after the game my father would find me and call out my name...dreaming of glory the next time out, my father showed me what love was about...he loved me no matter how I played... he loved me."

You are gone too soon Mark Fidrych, but you reminded us how the game should be played..like a game...because we have a father that loves us no matter how we play.

So what are ya waiting on...PLAY BALL!

Pling...Pling...

dg

Somebody Loved- The Weepies

Slim Shady to Teacher of Promise

I met Brian Hill the summer following his junior year at Connally High School. His single parent mom signed him up for our high school youth camp and even though he didn't know a soul, he came. He was bright, funny, made friends easily and oh yeah, he was dressed like rapper Eminem and even had his head shaved with the bleached fuzz. He was an immediate hit with the rest of the youth group and he quickly became a regular. When he graduated he went off to college at North Texas in Denton. Like many students, his freshman year of transition concluded with less than stellar results. He was on academic probation. He wasn't sure he wanted to return to North Texas, and after a stint working with a youth camp in North Louisiana (Camp Fuego) he decided he wanted to transfer to East Texas Baptist University in Marshall, Texas...and in addition, begin studying to become a youth minister. Those of us who had watched Brian grow in those few short years knew that he was a natural in working with kids, and in the summers that followed we always had him back to intern or help as a camp counselor.

Brian graduated in 2005 and immediately began seminary work in youth ministry at Truett Seminary on the Baylor University campus. I needed a summer college intern at Riverbend, so we hired him to help me in high school and college ministry, and since his mom had remarried and moved to Houston he needed a place to stay for the summer so he moved into my house up in Cedar Park. Calla was still there (Ariele in Portland and Hannah in Nashville) but she had just graduated and would be leaving for North Carolina at the end of the summer. I ended up leaving Riverbend for Journey at the end of the summer as well. but Brian stayed at Riverbend becoming the interim high school minister as well as staying on at the house. He would be there for two years until he and Caitlin married, and Caitlin didn't want to join the boy's club at the Gentiles house so they moved to East Austin after the wedding, and I moved down into town near the warehouse. Riverbend would hire Nick in the spring to take over high school ministry and he and Brian became fast friends and were a wonderful team for the year that Nick was there. But there were changes afoot at Riverbend and Brian found out that at the end of last summer his job would end there, so he began to look at other church positions. He also began to consider going through alternative certification programs and becoming a public school teacher.

I have left out a significant part of the story though. While attending classes at Truett, Brian began to be more and more interested in the issues of justice and the poor. He met an old college buddy of mine, Jimmy Dorrell who has run a ministry to the poor and the homeless in Waco for many years called Mission Waco who was teaching several classes on missions and slowly but surely with Jimmy's and several other key professors influence, Brian's calling shifted from traditional youth ministry to living in community with and ministering to the poor. I say all that to say that Brian's interest in teaching public school was not just to teach, he wanted to teach in the inner city where he knew the challenges were tough, the rewards were slower to come and the burnout rate was astronomical. He began to interview for jobs and even though he had several years of experience working with kids in the context of the church, he had no education degree and no classroom experience, so the beginning of the school year quickly approached and he still did not have a placement. A week before school started he called because he had an interview with the principal of a fairly new elementary school in East Austin, Overton Elementary for a position as a 4th grade teacher. After the interview he was encouraged, but he had been encouraged by several interviews before this one as well. What was different was that Principal Hicks seemed to want to take a chance on a guy who was creative and brought something fresh and new to the classroom. Brian was hired and the saga began last August.

There are still two months left in Brian's rookie year as a 4th grade classroom teacher, but oh what a year it has been. The stories, the text messages in the middle of the day, like the one he sent out on a standardized testing day when a little girl in his class farted and belched at the same time and the smell was curling up artificial plant leaves in the back of the room. As if teaching was not tough enough, Brian also volunteered to be the assistant coach for a basketball team made up of boys from his school that consumes his nights and weekends as well. And then there came Thursday night. The Austin Independent School District not only recognizes Teachers of the Year from each of its schools, it also honors Teachers of Promise who are 1st year teachers from each school who have distinguished themselves as wonderful young leaders of students. Brian was selected the Teacher of Promise from Overton. And that's not all...he was selected to speak at the recognition service last night at the Delco Center as a representative for all of the winners from the 65 elementary schools in AISD. He did a great job...he was funny (my girls think Jimmy Fallon reminds them of Brian, and vice versa) he was impassioned, he was poignant, and he was...well...Brian. I was so stinkin' proud of him...and yes...I teared up a little...yeah, I know you are shocked! (By the way...kudos for the youth ministry program at Riverbend, because amazingly three of the new teachers recognized Thursday night as TOPs were a part of the youth ministry program at RB...is that astounding or what?)

So...in case you are one of the folks who are convinced the world is going to hell in a handbasket...I got news for you...Slim Shady is now kickin' butt and taking names...and coaching basketball, and changing lives one 4th grader at a time.

I love you Brian Hill...teach on my brother...

Pling... Pling...

dg

You Gotta Have Balls...

So this morning I headed out early to meet Bob Carlton at Tacodeli for a breakfast taco, coffee and catching up. As it turned out Bob got tied up with a conference call at work that started at 7:30 a.m. and lasted for several hours, so instead of heading on in to the warehouse to work, I chose to sit on the patio in the cool morning, enjoy a miga breakfast taco and read the new edition of The Onion. I was already laughing at several articles when I came upon the advertisement you see at the beginning of this post. I don't know if Kenny Hilbig is an effective agent or if Moreland Properties has anything going for them in the real estate business, and the ad gives no indication that those guys know squat about anything other than how to take advantage of the AIG fiasco to make a funny ad for their real estate business...but that they got down...it was very funny and I salute them. And I hope they get some much needed business for their timely humor.

Speaking of beautiful, timely ads...my favorite of all time was 16 or 17 years ago when I lived in Plano and a little golf driving range on the edge of town (no such thing as undeveloped real estate in Plano anymore) had the misfortune of having their little business burglarized and had thousands of range balls stolen, and damage done to the pro shop, so they were forced to suspend business for a couple months. When they reopened two months later they placed an ad offering a free-bucket-of-range-balls-with-every-bucket-bought special in the local weekly paper with the headline, "You've Got To Have Balls To Run An Ad Like This!". Yes...Yes you do.

Pling...Pling...

dg

And A Chili Parlor Shall Lead Them...

Monday night I met Jack Morton, a fellow Journeyer and dear friend for a quick supper before we went to the Erwin Center to see the Horns knock the snot out of the Baylor Men's basketball team. It has been a disappointing season for the Bears who made their first NCAA Tournament appearance in many years last season, and who had been resurrected from college basketball Sheol by Coach Scott Drew and a scrappy, tenacious group of players. They spent several weeks in the top 25 early this season, but then four weeks into conference play began to struggle and have not been able to climb out of the funk...and will disappointingly miss the tournament after high hopes early on.

But, I digress, because the little establishment near the Capital (where Jack works a great deal during the legislative session) is actually the focus of this harping. It is a modest little downtown bar and eatery called The Chili Parlor. If you are a fan of grindhouse movies and saw the enigmatic Robert Rodriguez/Quintin Tarantino double feature, the little roadhouse featured at the beginning of the film with Kurt Russell is actually...the Chili Parlor. I have been in Austin for 15 years and heard about this legendary establishment for years, but alas, and alack, had never eaten there. We are perusing the menu and Jack is giving me the lowdown on the finer points of Chili Parlor ingredient nuances when the waitress informs us that the special of the day is chicken and sausage gumbo. Now those of you don't know me well are not aware of the fact that I am a bona fide gumbo snob. I grew up eating good gumbo in South Louisiana made by my pure-blooded Cajun mama, I make a very good gumbo, and I can count on one hand the restaurants I have frequented down through the years who made a gumbo that was anything more than a notch above average to lousy. Like I said...a gumbo snob.

At any rate, I was intrigued by the idea that a chili parlor would have the stones to offer gumbo and put it on the menu with their specialties, so both Jack and I ordered it...It was good...not just passable, but very good...now, granted, a chicken and sausage gumbo is much easier to pull off than seafood gumbo, but it was surprisingly tasty, with a thick hearty roux...which is the name of the game for me. The chunks of chicken were substantial and the sausage was andouille...add several dashes of Tabasco, and it was a very satisfying surprise in dining disguise.

We are well into the Lenten season, and frankly I'm having a difficult time feeling it the way I have always expected. Things at Journey are scarily wonderful...we are bad-dog broke, but that seems to have no effect on these brave strange fellow Journeyers. My girls are terrific, each off doing their own thing and continuing to grow into amazingly gifted and powerful young women. I've had the gift of having Ariele around on a daily basis for a few months and am loving spending time with her, discussing, arguing, dissecting, deconstructing and dreaming a world of subjects. I have connected with several women of past and present interest who have stirred me to think about being in a relationship again after fourteen years and that is a little disorienting. I feel good physically and am managing the financial stress of having at least one child in college continuously since 2001, at one point having all three in college, and having two in at the same time for the last four years with another two years probably on the horizon. By the way...don't ask me how that is possible with the modest salary a youth minister and associate pastor makes. I have no idea. I am grateful that somehow we have managed...but I got nothing. What I do know is that in the confusing days approaching Easter, Jesus' disciples spent most of the time scratching their heads and wondering what the heck was going on. They got introduced to many surprises in disguises, some thrilling and some terrifying, in those days heading toward Jerusalem so I'm taking a little gumbo at a chili parlor as a nudge to pay attention a little better... and pass the Tabasco.

Pling...Pling...

Only One Jinx...

Jinx Lacey...one of the best friends high school students in Austin ever had, died yesterday morning.

I met Jinx Lacey fifteen and a half years ago when I moved to Austin to become the Youth Minister at Riverbend Church. I had been in youth ministery, working with students, families and volunteers for 23 years at that point...there wasn't much I hadn't seen or experienced in that field...but then...I had never met Jinx Lacey. Jinx was a counselor at the recently opened McNeil HS in the Round Rock Independent School District. A couple of our students Kim Luckie and Jeff Lee, attended McNeil and Jinx was a member of the Riverbend congregation. It was obvious from the day I stepped on campus to go visit Jeff or Kim for lunch that Jinx loved kids. We became fast friends and I would go every year at her request in those early days to help with her begining of the school year lock-in to train her BITS (Jinx's version of Peer Assistance League) students with training classes as well as good ole all night games and fun. I loved being with the kids, but truthfully it was just as much fun hanging out with Jinx, who was teaching and leading and mentoring, but having every bit as much fun as her kids.

The other thing that made us fast friends was our mutual admiration society for the lights in each other's eyes...my middle daughter Hannah and her grandaughter Katelin. To this day I love Katelin like she is my own, and Jinx felt the same way about Hannah. I got the privilege of performing Katelin and her amazing husband, Brad's wedding over a year ago and I knew that as proud as I was of Katelin, no one was prouder than GranJ, as Kaitlin affectionaltely calls her. As they made their way through elementary school, middle school, high school and off to college, Jinx and I would always compare notes and brag about how "our girls" were doing. I left Riverbend three and a half years ago to go to Journey and so my contact with Jinx was not nearly as often as it should have been, but when we talked it was always about Kaitlin and Hannah.

Those who know JInx would attest that she was one of the funniest human beings on the planet...and NOBODY lived with as much passion and joy as Jinx. I know that is what attracted kid after kid after kid to her. She loved unconditionally, but was tough when she needed to be...but those kids never, never doubted that Jinx loved them. I ran into Chawn, a sophomore McNeil student, today who had not heard that Jinx had passed away since it happened over the weekend, and this 6'9" young man went weak in his very tall knees when I told him the news, and he just kept muttering..."no, no...Jinx was awesone!" In recent years she had also served as one of the campus crisis counselors, so part of her job everyday was to sit with students in turmoil, anguish, depression, discouragement and confusion. Those kids knew they had a friend and advocate in Jinx Lacey. As a matter of fact all of us who called her our friend, knew exactly the same thing.

One quick Jinx story...Part of our friendship also came because we both were, and had been, single parents. I did a stint in singles ministry for a few years while I was at Riverbend in order to perserve my nights and weekends for my three girls (nights and weekends are primo in youth ministry because that's when kids are not in school). As we began to set up specific ministries for single parents, since I was learning how to be one, I often brought Jinx in, not just because she had been a single parent, but because he had such a wonderful gift for saying things that I could never get away with saying about the way things really were...and she had incredible street cred because of her work in the school system. One of the cool things we did while I was working with singles, was that we were able to host the Baptist General Convention of Texas State Singles Conference on two separate occasions. One of those years, Jinx and I were leading seminars next door to each other in the Quad to singles from all over the state. My seminar was on humor in the Bible (Jinx should have been leading that one, too) and hers was on single parenting. As I finshed up my seminar, I walked next door to Jinx's room to see how her session had gone. She informed me that she had a room full of only women...not a single man in the room. Then she she said, with a twinkle (she had that twinkle a lot) "Uh...I guess I oughta tell you that you might get some complaints about this seminar." I stuffed down a laugh and replied..."OK Jinx, what did you say?" "Well", she started, her smile getting larger as she talked, " I was talking about the things that you don't prepare yourself for when you are wrestling with all of the things you are juggling as a single parent...and really David, I didn't mean for it to come out..." I shook my head and repeated, "Jinx...what did you say?". By that time she was giggling and she said, "I just told them that if I would have known that the last time I had sex was going to be the last time I had sex, I would have put more into it." That is a direct Jinx Lacey quote. After I composed myself enough to get up off of the floor from laughing, I told her that it was OK, she had just made this Baptist conference way more interesting than any other Baptist conference any of those ladies had ever been to.

There will never be another Jinx Lacey...and there are literally thousands and tens of thousands of young men and women and parents whose lives she touched, blessed and enriched. I'm simply one of them...

I happen to one of those old school folks who believe in a heaven...a final soul destination in the presence of divine Creator. Nope, I am not sure of all the details, but I am pretty sure that the One who spoke the world into existence is getting an earful from Jinx...and I'll bet she has that twinkle in her eye...and so does He.

I love you Jinx Lacey...

Pling...Pling...

dg

Choosing Love and Light...

I've watched a lot of presidential inauguration ceremonies in my lifetime...twelve or so that I remember watching...and interestingly enough the first one I remember reminded me the most of this one today. In 1960, we elected a young, charismatic statesman who also was a first...in that case, our first Roman Catholic president. He had a strikingly, beautiful, mysterious wife and two adorable children and the country sensed that a page had turned in American politics. What happened today, was, of course, unprecedented as well, as two million people jammed into the tiny District of Columbia to be in the general vicinity of our first African-American President, Barack H. Obama being (sort of) sworn in by Chief Justice Roberts. In all of those past inaugurations, I had never gathered with a group of people specifically to watch all of the inauguration festivities...until today. A number of us were invited to our friends, the Manroe's home, where we had food, whooped and hollered, oohed and aahed, cried and laughed, and eventually toasted with champagne when the oath was repeated as well as noting the individual and collective turns as this epic, landmark moment unfolded.

The brightest and best political and social commentators have chronicled every second of this historic event, so I don't imagine I have much of value to add except that my favorite moment of the day was when Barack entered the landing adjacent to the speakers platform to thunderous applause, he passed by his family and his daughter Malia stuck out her arm and gave him a huge dramatic thumbs up gesture. Obama who had been stoically, expressionless as he walked the ramp to the platform burst out in an irrepressible grin...That's the response not of a commander-in- chief, or leader of the free world...that's the response of a daddy who loves his little girl. The good thing to me is that I have my highest hopes of my lifetime that the daddy of those two girls also is a commander-in-chief and a leader of the free world that leads with love...not wimpy doormat love, but compassion that sees all of the world as God's creation... a leader of the free world that knows that he is called to lead with light that casts out darkness and exposes injustice and suffering. In his speech I heard a man who will take the high road of integrity and strong compassion that will not be compromised or diluted. He called on each of us to be a part of that mission...Sorta sounds like the words of that first inauguration call I remember from 48 years ago, "Ask not what your country can do for you...".

One of my favorite newly discovered music groups is a band called The Submarines, and their song made famous because of its use in the iPhone commercials is called "You, Me, and the Bourgeoisie" which frankly, is a tad ironic because the message of the song is about curbing materialism and waste, and disdaining hate and apathy. The chorus begins with these words that reminded me so much of the message of hope soaring in today's events.

"Every day I wake up, I choose love, I choose light..."

Let it be.

Pling...Pling...

dg