K-rah-tay

Life can be busy. I realize that is no new revalation, just go along with me. Things can get really busy. Lately, 12-14 hour work days are not unusual for me. I have found not to plan too many extra things in my day simply because my day is already so full! Upon all of my responsibilities already, though, I have added another two responsibilities to my plate. I have taken on two more college classes, psychology and Kempo Karate. Psychology because I enjoy the subject and Kempo, well, I was promised I could beat somebody up in the class, and if you are as stressed as I am lately, you would jump on the opportunity to beat someone up legally.

Avid readers of my blog may feel this is reminiscent of two other blog posts. As mentioned in "How I Beat up Women and Won the Game," I am a black belt in Karate. Unfortunately, I haven't used or practiced my karate for several years, so I decided it was time to reclaim some of what I learned. However, one of the first blogs I posted called "My Ya Ya Sisterhood" was about a water aerobics class I took last summer and the unfortunately creepy aspect the class had towards me. Apparently, I didn't learn anything from that class- that the fitness classes I take can be totally insane! And sure enough, Kempo Karate doesn't escape that rule of thumb.

I am very excited about the class, don't get me wrong. I have found the class to be amazing. In my experience with people who have "learned martial arts," they expect the class to be a way to look like Bruce Lee in two weeks. How wrong they turn out to be. The class takes years of dedication to reach that level and most people quit a couple of weeks in. This applies to a lot of things in life, though. Take working out in general. Think about how you go to the gym and work out with all the other people there.

As a slightly overweight guy in the gym stands there, sweat dripping from every strand of hair on his head, his sweat-glazed gut poking out from beneath his shirt, you sometimes wonder what you are doing there in the first place. The smell of feet and toe jam lifts steadily from the wood flores where we slide around from all the sweat. Definitely, it is gross and weird. There is a reprieve to the experience, though, an upside if you will. Meditation. Not the kind where you float around and you have an out of body experience where you meet Ghandi or anything, but a relaxing thirty to sixty seconds of silence. In karate, we zone out like this before and after every class as a way to clear our heads of any craziness or hecticness in our lives, a time where we can put our troubles on the shelf and chill. Many people who work out do this while they work out. They simply shake all the cares of the world off them as they dwelll on peace.

I dare you to try this. Trust me, it is amazing. It is not cooky or weird in any way, I promise. Just take thirty seconds next time you're stressed to close your eyes and think about nothing. I mean, nothing. Not about troubles at work, with the family, the payments, the time, the day, the weather, the how, the when. Think about nothing. Clear your mind of troubles and heartache. Then, towards the end of the thirty seconds, think about the task ahead of you and only that task. Take life one bite at a time. It is like that saying goes, "If you want to eat an elephant, you have to do it one bite at a time." Or as the verse puts it, "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things." -Philipians 4:8

I dare you to think about those things this week. And if you see Ghandi while you are meditating, say hi to him for me.

KB

THE Video

Yeah, I promised you I would put this video, which brought about the story before this post. Keep in mind, this is only a joke and about no one in particular. So please, enjoy...

KB

Write It As You Feel It

Technically, this post should be a video post. It obviously is not and there is a reason for that. But the reason why is lame; it's the story behind it that is interesting. Am I going to tell you about it? Of course. Why the heck would I take the time to write a blog about stuff if I wasn't going to tell you? Is it going to be funny, Kyle, cus I like it when they're funny. Of course it will, or at least I hope it will. If it's not, then at least laugh so I'll feel good about it. So dive with me, if you will, into my life for a second...

This past weekend, I wrote a song. "A song?" you ask. Yes, a song. As I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom one lazy Sunday afternoon, I ventured into the depths of my imagination, which I assure you is a dangerous and unstable path sometimes, and pulled out an idea for a song. It would be a song that had a catchy beat to it and everybody would relate to. So, my mind started racing and my creative juices started flowing and an hour later, I ended up with a blank sheet of paper. On the flip side, I got distracted while playing guitar and I can now make it sound like it is whistling to a hot babe! Man, I have issues.... Anyways, I buckled down there at the end and penned a tune that would fit the bill!

Excited, I spent the rest of that night fine tuning the song to a group of friends, who thought it was a delightful little ditty. The song was about an awful break up, the kind where you have to change your number and move zip codes because she won't leave you alone. In all honesty, I pulled parts of the songs from some of my friends' relationships which ended in catastrophic failure, and if you've ever had a relationship before that ended, you know that it always feels like a catastrophic failure one way or another. So, they seemed delighted and I figured it was time to take it up a notch. It was to the internet and beyond for my little song!

I set up a chair, my laptop, my guitar, and prepped my vocal chords and got to work recording the song. "What word would I use to describe working on it?" you ask, because I'm sure you are that interested in my life to ask that question. Well thank you first of all for taking interest and the answer to it- epic. I almost made myself laugh while playing it during the video. It was simply jolly. Now I don't want to get your hopes up about this video; it probably isn't even that good. But I felt very proud of my accomplishment. 30 minutes later, it was up on YouTube, up on At Wit's End, and up for the whole world to see! I was flying high.

Later that night, as I strolled into the house, probably singing the song since the tune gets caught in my head, I walked up to my precious mother and kissed her forehead, greeting her with glee. Her face was morose and visibly upset, and my mind asked the question, "What on earth did I do/forget/do this time???" She reached out to me and asked, "Darling, if you want to talk about it, I'm here for you." Talk about it? What on earth? Then it clicked. She must have thought I was being serious on my blog about it. Uh oh. But wait, there's more. My dad gets home, gleaming with pride that his son inherited a cunning wit and a backbone to stand up to a girl like that. But wait, there's more. I get an email from my aunt the next day, commending me on my courage, but scolding me for my blunt behavior. In the end, the video was causing quite the stir.

I promise I say nothing offensive or vulgar in it- I wouldn't do that. But when you see the video, I suppose I do a convincing job of looking serious. At any rate, I took the video down and sent an apology to anyone who took offense. But I didn't take it down because I thought it was shocking... oh contrare... I took it down because I needed to do some site maintenance and it was in the way. But it is important that you know the following... I'M NOT BEING SERIOUS, IT IS STRICTLY A PARODY, IT IS ABOUT NO ONE IN PARTICULAR. Thank you.

Coming full circle, the experience taught me a valuable lesson. 1) That it might be best to have a 5 day waiting period before I tell my family I broke up with someone and talking with them again, allow them to cope with the loss. 2) I could become an actor if this whole writing thing doesn't work out. I could be like George Orwell! and 3) It is important to write what you believe. Write out your imagination and have fun with it. Writing is a powerful and fun thing and it is the best way of getting your thoughts out there and see them at face value. It is like taking a picture of your brain for a split second and seeing what you were thinking, expressed in words. The song is a snapshot of me being stupid. Who knows, maybe I'll put it back up if there is demand for it. In the meantime, keep writing. Keep exploring the infinite imagination. Keep causing a stir because if you don't, well, life just isn't as fun. And besides, if I didn't cause a stir every once and a while, this blog would be really boring, huh?

KB

Ugly Baby

Birth is a miracle of God... or so I'm told. I'm not sure what is so appealing to it. From what Discovery Channel has shown me about it, it doesn't look super exciting. I know I already covered this in December 2009's 12 Days of Christmas Series, Day 6. Maybe I didn't cover birth exclusively enough though. I mean, I would one day love to have children and would love to raise kids as my own, but only after I've seen the world and only after I've enjoyed my wife for a coupla years. Honestly, I love kids, I'm just glad I don't have to squirt one out one day. (Squirt- what a creepy word to use here, I'm sorry. What are humans toothpaste now?)

Fact is, the media in this world has portrayed birth as something I don't think it is. I mean, I've never seen an actual birth before. I've been a part of one, however I was the one being born, so I doubt that counts. Hollywood, to me, portrays birth in 30 minute intervals, edited for commercials and time. The puking and vomiting a woman experiences is edited out of the show and nobody has to see it. The weird cravings a woman gets during pregnancy are played off like a funny thing- I know somebody who wanted to eat nothing but pickles when they were pregnant, how crazy is that? Pickles and broccoli I think. Furthermore, the man in the show usually has some important and supportive role to play. To the best of my knowledge, a man's role during the birth is to a) not faint and b) cheer her on (aka shut up when she says shut

up, get out when she says get out, and respect that woman for what she's going through.). Like I said, I've never been an actual birth before, but that isn't what real birth is like- I know it ain't no cake walk.

Fact is the thing has gotta come out. That does not mean that it has to be fun though. One comedian likened it to shoving an uncooked, cornish game hen through a monocle. Carol Burnett once said, “Giving birth is like taking your lower lip and forcing it over your head.” Sorry for the creepy imagery, but birth is gross, and that's a fact. I give props to any lady who can survive labor pains. But have you ever encountered an ugly baby? I mean, they come out gross, but have you ever seen one that looks just as gross after it's been cleaned up? Yikes! That's a great way to enjoy an awkward evening with friends... "No, no, she's the cutest thing I've ever seen... he's the cutest... whatever...."

Isn't that like us, though? Whenever we start a new adventure, a new experience, a new life, we are wobbly and weird looking. We start out a complete mess. Sometimes, even after we are cleaned up a bit, we still look goofy. But after a while, that goofiness will go away. It will take some labor pains and some crazy moments of discomfort to get over that goofiness, but growing up and out of that stage is better than staying goofy looking our whole lives. Nobody wants to look like an ugly baby their whole lives. As for Christians, we must remember that we all start out as goofy looking babies in Jesus. Granted he makes us clean again, but there is still some goofiness we need to grow out of. In time, that will happen, but there are stages of life we must live through.

This week, may those of you who are older and wiser remember what it was like to look goofy when you started out and may that nostalgia inspire you to reach out to the "younger" guys. If you are starting out or just a few months or even a couple of years into it, may you keep growing and growing and get out of that goofy looking stage. Big plans are ahead, says in the Lord in Jeremiah 29:11. Plans to give you a future and hope. To love and not to hurt. So here is to looking like goofy kids when we start out. May we be humbled by our modest roots. And here's to crossing my fingers... I hope my kid is sexy!

KB

Frankie Falls in Love

Do you remember the greats like Audry Hepburn and Carrie Grant. They were among an era of people who could light a cigerrette, grab hold of their love, and you knew it was meant to be. They were real swingers, the kind of people who knew what was what and you didn't question that they knew what was what. They walked with assurance and pride in their step. The greats like the Rat Pack- Dino, Sammy, Lawford, and of course the ever amazing Frank Sinatra.

Frank Sinatra's music was and still is incomparably great. He was one smooth dude, a guy who seemed to know everything when he sung a sweet love song. He could saranade an angry bear out of a tree if given the chance. His voice was unique, his style was smooth and his lyrics are still among the best. You'll rediscover what falling in love is when you hear his music, and maybe some of us need to do that.

How easily we forget what love is. We must go back to it. We must remember how our hearts fluttered when we heard it, how our eyes lit up when we saw it, how our hands connected the first time when we touched. For some, that is a hobby, For others, it is a marriage. I'm sure for all, it has to do with some relationship we've been in before. Maybe it even has to do with God, your beliefs. Whatever it may be, I am encouraging you to rediscover what that love was. Hold hands with it again, touch it again, let go of your inhibitions and shortcomings and let love take over. May the sounds of Frankie permeate your love and since Fools Rush In, may there be a fool in each of us.

KB

Ode to My Bad Day

GOD, you know what is just right

in every corner of my life

and as i struggle with all my might

to rise above my strife

on eagle's wings you set me aflight

and we fly above the choas.

on days, my job is such a mess

with impatiences and stress

i get a pain in my eye

and the swelling makes me look like george takei!

i'm irritated and fuming

in a world of endless sueing!

i cannot even drive peacefully

because i always fell like a piece of me

wants to jump out of the car

and hit the drivers with an iron bar.

this feels wrong in my heart

but it just won't part.

what's wrong here?

you know that pain you get in your neck

that hurts when you flex

all because an annoying pest

steals you away from your bliss?

yeah i have that right now.

it seems that even the church

seems to make it hurt

with its sometimes boring tidings

and ever present tithings.

from our hope, it's stealing

instead of healing.

but these things aren't the point

even if they make us out of joint.

in the end it's GOD's heart that rules

and HE'll give us the tools

to rise above the mire

and fly above it higher.

and as for our trash,

GOD recycles it and turns it into our mast

.....to sail stronger than we did

..........the day before.

KB

(Um, this is George Takei, Trek fans)