Posted in Blogging, Pop

Happy Birthday, ya ol’ fart!


That guy who's my dad.

There’s a sappy country song about a 4-year-old kid who learns to cuss, pray, and eat his vegetables.  From his dad.  It would be really creepy if I posted it here.  So I won’t.  But if anyone was going to learn to cuss, it would be him.  From me.  Just sayin’…

I still watch my dad, though, you know.  Being an adult just means I have responsibilities and society at large expects me to respond to everyday situations in a mature manner.  It also means that I’ve finally begun to realize that I know very little about anything at all and that the best way to learn is to observe and study.

Watching my Pop live his life as a person, an American, a parent, a spouse, a son, a brother, a pastor, and a guy who loves Jesus, I have learned a great many things, whether I have recognized it yet or not.

  • Going with the flow is for pansies.  Sometimes that includes your own flow.  Sometimes being different lets you find who God made you to be.  Sometimes it lets you see Him from a whole new perspective.
  • Everything is changing, both around you and inside of you.  Don’t be afraid to find out that you could learn more of the story.  That there damn sure is more of the story.
  • Steak is worth it.
  • Just because you can doesn’t mean you should, but sometimes it’s a whole lot of fun.
  • Rules weren’t made to be broken, but they weren’t meant to be blindly followed at every turn, either.
  • Trying new things, even if you think you’ll hate them, is a really good idea and almost always pays off.
  • Orange isn’t a bad color.
  • Danskos are God’s gift to our soles.
  • Being good at being weird is also a good idea and every now and then pays off.
  • If the shoe doesn’t fit, I need to start shopping where they sell boats instead of the shoe store.
  • The Unibomber had a shed behind his cabin.  It was too small to accommodate dwelling of any kind.
  • Piercings and tattoos are the bomb.
  • Making Jesus the Boss of you doesn’t make you a pansy.  It actually makes you hardcore and quite the badass.

Happy Birthday, Pop.  You’re my favorite Pop I’ve ever had.  And that actually means something.

Thank you for loving Jesus in the against-the-flow, religion-is-for-the-birds way that you do.

Thank you for loving me in the nose-flicking, skull-thumping, feet-criticizing way that you do.

Love,  Beefy

P.S.  Every time I go the grocery store with clementines on my list, I get that song stuck in my head.  Thanks a lot.

Thou art lost and gone forever...
Dreadful sorry, Clementine.


I rock. I also paper and scissors.

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