One man's journey... to change the world.

Stolen from Greg...

2009-02-24T12:42:00.000-08:00

I refuse to fall into the "25 Things" trap, so... with that being said, I give you: Yes or No.

Kissed any one of your Facebook friends? Yes, strangely enough, a few of them!
Been arrested? Yes. I plead the Fif on the details.
Kissed someone you didn't like? Yes. Who hasn't?
Slept in until 5 PM? Yes, but I was REEEAALLLY sick!
Fallen asleep at work/school? Yes, countless times!
Held a snake? Yes, for sure.
Ran a red light? Oh yes!
Been suspended from school? Yes.
Totaled your car/motorbike in an accident? Yes and No: I've never totaled MY OWN car, but was in a car whilst it was getting totaled in an accident.
Been fired from a job? Yes.
Sang karaoke? Yes, one too many times!
Done something you told yourself you wouldn't? Yes! Who hasn't!?!?
Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose? Yes.. like once a week!
Caught a snowflake on your tongue? Yes... sadly, I've also caught a snowball on my tongue.. sad day.
Kissed in the rain? Yes. Nothin' finer!
Sang in the shower? YES
Sat on a rooftop? YES
Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on? Yes! Payback is a beast!!
Broken a bone? Surprisingly, no.
Shaved your head? Yep.
Blacked out from drinking? Sadly, yes. Kids: Do NOT drink, or do drugs, or anything else that is it stupid!
Played a prank on someone? Um... have you met me before!? YES!
Felt like killing someone? Yes. Who hasn't?
Made your girlfriend/boyfriend cry? Yes, sadly...
Had Mexican jumping beans for pets? Yes, of course!!
Been in a band? Haha.. Yes, one or two... :-)
Shot a gun? Again: Haha... Yes, one or two...
Donated Blood? Yes, all the time: Type O Neg!
Eaten alligator meat? I live in SWFL... of course I've eaten gator!!
Eaten cheesecake? Yes... love it!
Still love someone you shouldn't? Yes. Jesus called us to love EVERYONE whether we like them or not.
Think about the future? Yes, all day every day.
Believe in love? Yes, all day every day.
Sleep on a certain side of the bed? Yes, whichever side is closest to the door... gotta protect my fizamily!
Talk in your sleep? Yes, evidently...
Laughed until you peed your pants? Yes, sadly.
Spend too much time on Facebook? Yes, definitely!
Play a musical instrument? Again: Haha... yes, one or two..
Lived outside of the country? Depends on what you mean by "lived outside of the country" I have been outside of the country, and was alive whilst doing so... thus 'living' outside of the country.
Been skinny dipping? Yes and No: I have, but when you're my size it's either called Tubby Dipping or Chunky Dunkin'.
Gone sky diving? Not yet... but one day: YES!
Dated someone longer than you should have? Yes, but God still used it to teach me a ton of lessons!

Obama...

2009-01-20T07:29:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting here watching the Inauguration of Barack Obama... Talking with a buddy of mine in Kenya...

He congratulated me.

I asked why?

"Congrats on Obama!" He said.

"Thanks... I suppose..." my reply.

"EVERYONE is talking about it here in Kenya! Obama is going to change the world!" He continued.

I don't think that we stop to notice that even in our crazy economy and with everything our country is going through, the WORLD is still hanging on to EVERYTHING we do!

We are blessed to live in an amazing country.

We are blessed far more than we deserve.

We need to stop being the stereotypical Americans.

If you're a Christian, and you've got a problem with Obama, please keep your thoughts to yourself. Not only do you push unbelievers away from Christ himself, but you just sound ignorant. And really, who wants to sound ignorant?

Now, please understand... I did not vote for Obama... but that's who was chosen. Hearing people (especially Christians) say that the wrong person was voted in, or that this country is going to the pits of hell, are attempting to slap God's face right off of his face.

What gall you have, to say that something that God has allowed is WRONG! Good luck with that.

Obviously God has allowed Obama to lead this GREAT nation for a reason. Suck it up and deal with it... who knows... you might even like him... :-)

So yeah, moral of the story... stop being ignorant and stupid and hateful and ugly. Okaythanksbye.

My wife said...

2008-12-01T16:02:00.000-08:00

...the "F" word again last night. For the 4th time since we've been together.

She's so trashy...

2008-11-12T17:22:00.000-08:00

1 . Where did you meet? At an internet chat room for female chubby chasers.

2. How long did you date? We never dated. There was just a period that we were together that we were not married... we affectionately refer to that as "The Dark Ages"

3. How long have you been married? 408 days. (But who's counting...?)

4. What does she say that surprises you? The "F" word. She's said it 3 times since we've been together. They were all accidents, but she said it none-the-less... she's filthy.

5. What is your favorite feature of hers's?
• If we're being shallow: She's got a pretty sweet lil' rumpus. I like to refer to her as "Muffin Butt"...
• If we're being thoughtful: Her smile... seriously, she could melt a glacier (causing the world to be destroyed, as seen in the smash hit "The Day After Tomorrow") with that smile.

6. What is your favorite quality of hers's?
• Shallow: She's hot.
• Thoughtful: Her unbelievable heart. (You can read more here: http://anickeloradime.blogspot.com/2007/08/things-i-love.html)

7. Does she have a nickname for you? Mostly she just calls me 'Stud'. However she has never ONCE called me by my birth name, therefore every time that she has spoken to me, she's refer to me using a nickname.

8. What is her favorite color? Yellow

9. What is her favorite food? She's never met a food she didn't like. (although she's not a huge fan of chick peas, avacados, and raw onions...)

10. What is her favorite sport? Shopping.

11. When and where did you first kiss? When: One day... Where: On the lips.

12. What is your favorite thing to do as a couple? Hang out with our friends. (You can typically find us in the Buzzard's Nest)

13. Do you have any children? Well... we both believe that children are the future. That we should teach them well, and let them lead the way.. perhaps show them all the beauty they possess inside... maybe give them a sense of pride to make it easier... Basically: let the children's laughter remind us how it used to be...

In other words: no... not yet. But we want some of them though... I wanna teach 'em tricks.

14. Does she have a hidden talent? Yes... putting up with me.

15. How old is he? She turned 24 this past Nov. 11

16. Who said, “I love you” first? Probably Laura, as she is a couple years older than me. I was probably still in the womb when she was saying it.

17. What is her favorite type of music? Anything that I was involved with... ESPECIALLY the Seth Thomas Band (http://www.myspace.com/seththomasmusic)

18. What do you most admire about her? Didn't we already cover this? Or is this one of those crazy personality tests that asks you if you would steal from your company 25 times using different wording... the answer is 'yes'... get over it.

19. Do you think she will read this? I'll more than likely read it TO her... she thinks my voice is sexy (so does Carolyn Vecchio)... this is not surprising. As my voice is (much like the rest of me) QUITE sexy.

So, that's it kiddos... my monthly blog post. Enjoy.

S

Three Little Words...

2008-09-08T18:20:00.001-07:00

As most of you may know: I, Slim Gillian, am a story teller.

My life is crazy. The most insane things happen to me...

I like to recall these tales of my journeys to friends and strangers alike. This is why I talk a lot.

People, most of the time, assume that these simple narratives are but mere lies, exaggerations at best. While I must admit that there are some mildly embellished pieces to the puzzle of my life, I assure you that those elaborations are quite minimal.

I like telling stories.

I like captivating an audience, whether they be great in number, or simply the handful of people who read the ramblings that are my blog posts.

More than telling true stories, I love calling on my thespian training and creating stories on the fly.

I love it when a simple question is asked of me, and I can respond with a twisted tale of castles, dragons, hookers and the like.

I could simply lie: a nonchalant "yes" or "no", perhaps even a "maybe" here and there.

But what's the fun in that?

Sometimes it's not even important things. Consider this scenario:

My older brother, Brad (or as he is more affectionately known: The Bishop) and myself look nearly identical. Only a mere 11 months apart, an inch or two away in size, fairly close in weight and build... similar facial hair styling... some even say that we talk alike. Obviously, we're brothers.

Man: (to my brother and me) "Man, are you guys brothers!??!"
Me: "You would not believe how many times I've heard that..."
Man: "You must've heard it since you were kids!"
Me: "Yeah, not so much. Surprisingly we're not related. We started playing in a band together in Chicago back in 2003, and just kinda moved around together since. But we get that ALL the time."

You ask "Seriously!?"

"But why!?" you continue to think...

The answer?

The story.

This guy will now walk away... thinking "Man, I've known Brad for some time and he's never mentioned that he's from Chicago." or "Man, it's crazy.. they look JUST a like."

Now this may seem insignificant to you... but imagine my amusement. Not just in the immediate situation, but when I get a phone call from my elder sibling informing me that some guy is has been confused for days about some 'Chicago' story.

I laugh.

Now that was merely an example of an insignificant story... my tall tales are normally much more extravagant... much more elaborately decorated.

I've told some whoppers in my day....

Some have made people laugh...

...others cry...

Some weep...

Some have even made people questions everything they about me, themselves, and life in general.

I wont post those here. Primarily because you don't got that kinda time.

I'm sure that Laura wouldn't mind telling you some of the horror stories that I've put her through.

These are not simple stories... there's entire backgrounds for the story, its location and every character involved.

Why do I do it?

The sport.

If weaving tales of misguided youth, morbid obscenities and cows was an Olympic event, you could consider me Michael Phelps.. not just because of my witty talent, but rather my goods look and killer physique without a shirt on.

Anyway... I'm getting off subject here....

You know... the reason for this post...

Being that I'm a story teller, I like to put people on the spot. To see how they react when put into certain situations. To see if they tell the truth, see if they'll lie... maybe even see if they dare to tell a story.

Now, the point:

Today I had to pick my sweet wife up from work. We drove to the bank to drop of the daily deposit for her job, and promptly headed to Tijuana Flats for an early dinner.

I got the usual... so did she.

As is my typical fashion, I always ask the people taking our order if the cookies there are "fresh baked".

I know the answer to the question: "no".

In fact, they are purchased in... unwrapped... and put into NEW wrapping that reflects the branding of 'The Flats'.

Laura laughs at me ever time and asks why I ask the question.

But no amount of explanation will ever make non-story-tellers understand the concept.

Well, today at the 'Flats' I approached the portly fellow (we'll call him "Ol' Dude") on the other side of the counter (as I held a white chocolate chip cookie in my right hand up to my nose, to take in the odor of it's tender, goodness) and simply asked: "Do you freshly bake these?"

A question that I've asked dozens of times since LoBeth and I started dating.

Every time, I get the standard response "No. We actually buy them from a company and re-wrap them."

But not this time...

This time it was...

...different.

Ol' Dude calmly, bravely and confidently proclaimed three little words "Yes, we do!"

Laura's jaw dropped, however I played it cool. Seeing that he took the bait, I wanted to push him a little.

I held up another cookie and snuffed it like a fine summer wine.

"How 'bout these? You fresh bake these too?"

"Sure do!" his response.

"Hmmmm..." a simple noise was my retort.

I went on to ask "When do you bake them? In the morning? Night?"

"Every morning." he muttered.

"Wow... It must be tough to be in here when the cookies are baking... freshly?" I state.

"Oh man! It's the hardest part of my job!" he says.

I think to myself "Wow. He's a story teller... albeit a bad one... but a teller none-the-less".

Now that you've read the 833 words in the post (up to this point anyway... [yeah, I counted them]) you should be asking yourself "Why? Why such a long post for so little actual content?"

But for the story, of course.

And they all lived happily ever after,
The Slim

I got these cute comments the other day...

2008-09-02T12:47:00.000-07:00

...on my "Mike Scott" blog post.

They're both pretty funny. I wish that my response could've been as funny.

Here it is, for your viewing pleasure.

Tee hee hee...

Little kids make me laugh. They're just so cute... Bill Cosby was right: Kids really DO say the darnedest things!

Especially when they try to talk like 'big boys' but aren't man enough to leave their contact information, or better yet: remain anonymous.

Since some people obviously need enlightenment, I will touch on those things covered in my these two comments.

I'll have to disregard the blatant lack of proper grammar, punctuation and capitalization in the comments from this young man or woman (I can only assume with back-to-back comments one minute apart they are from the same person)

"What a punk ass kid you are."
Punk Ass? Yes.
Kid? In the eyes of middle schoolers, not so much. In the eyes of war vets, retirees and my parents, totally.

"You are an idiot."
The famous philosopher was once quoted as saying "Stupid is, as stupid does." I'm certainly not the one posting half-witted, anonymous comments on people's blogs.

Plus, my IQ is in the low 170's... I've taken the MENSA test 3 times, and passed every time. Compare that with the national average IQ of 98, and the fact that you don't know what MENSA is, I'd say that I'm doing pretty good. But hey, what do I know? I mean, I'm only a genius and all...

"K-9 swat wanna be."
Duh. I think it was pretty obvious in the blog posting that I am, in fact, K-9 swat wanna be. Thanks for pointing out the obvious.

"You need to get back on your medication."
Sure. Lunesta is a BEAUTIFUL thing. Money is tight right now though... spare a couple bucks to get me back on my much needed meds?

"Maybe your lard ass..."
Evidently you didn't bother to read my other blog. You know, the one about my quest to lose weight.

That blog would tend to indicate that I already acknowledge the fact that I may or may not be on the 'heavy side'. Thanks, again, for pointing out the blatantly obvious.

"...would like to meet up with a true and honest officer."
If you have one to suggest, please do. Otherwise I'll just keep chit-chatting with the almost 2 dozen Lee and Collier police officers that I'm proud to call "friend" (including the great Sheriff Mike Scott).

"Just because you see a few signs around, you think you have all the answers, wrong you don't have a clue about what's going on."
Umm... okay. Good call. What was I thinking!? Thanks for opening my eyes.

"Get a life."
One like yours? I'm sure your life is pretty fabulous. Please, my email is slimwhitley@aol.com ... drop me a line... let me know how great your life is.

"Are you gay or what?"
If my options are:
A. Gay
B. What

I would have to go with "B. What". Unless you'd like me to be gay... because it seems as if you've got a 'thing' for me. I can't say that I blame you.. most men and woman find themselves instantly attracted to me. Join the club.

"You think Scott is sexy, you've got to be kidding."
Very good, I AM kidding! You picked up on the thing we grown-ups like to call "Humor". You're awesome.

"Looking at you're picture, I don't know how you even got a girl..."
If I'm such an eye-sore for you to look at, how's about you stop looking at my picture? Unless you're still hung up on your 'thing' for me. In which case, be my guest.

As far as how I got a girl:

Mostly luck. Large amounts of luck. The rest was just a little bit of class, wit, humor and fantastic hair.

"Maybe it's your sister."
I have two sisters, both are quite lovely girls. However, my wife is neither of them.

"Have you ever heard of contacts."
Seriously? That's the stab you try to take at me?

Do you walk up to everyone with glasses, call 'em "four-eyes" and ask them if they've "ever heard of contacts"? If not, I think you should. It'd be funny. I certainly hope that you will always be able to have your perfect vision that you must obviously have.

"And the peach fuzz you call a beard wow!"
A. Surprisingly it is not peach fuzz. If really is facial hair. It may LOOK like peach fuzz, but I assure you, what little bit there is, is indeed real hair.

B. That I call a beard?! I don't recall calling it a beard. I actually don't recall referring to it as anything.

C. If I WAS going to refer to my facial hair, I would certainly not call it a 'beard'. Mainly because it's not. I believe that the facial hair style that you were looking for was "Goatee". I have a goatee... not a beard.

D. I'm sorry that my hair is not as epic as yours is. Do you have any pointers for me?!

Well. Thank about concludes it. Hopefully this will help to make you understand a thing or two about me. Please feel free to email me your number, maybe address. I'd love to send you a thank you card or something.

Peace,
SLIM

Satus Quo...

2008-08-02T07:52:00.000-07:00

Those of you who know me, know that my life is, at most times, rather crazy.

Things always seems to happen at the worst times.

As the rest of my life has been, the future will be as well.

Yesterday, I was enjoying my first day of unemployment (man, how long has it been since you can say that you were jobless?!?)... wondering how in the world I was going to make things work in this step of faith that I've taken, knowing well that I don't have enough $$ to pay my bills this month...

I think it might've the thought in my head that distracted me from the fact that my car was on fire.

Yeah...

I was driving down 75, headed home from a recording session in Naples when my temperature gauge went from normal to overheating in about 15 seconds. I pulled over just past the Corkscrew exit and lifted up my hood to find enough flames to roast a pig on.

Now, the picture is not of my car, nor were the flames that high... I just put that in for dramatic effect...

With that being said, I believe that may have truly been the last hoorah with my car. So, if you could all keep your eyes out for a REALLY CHEAP vehicle... nothing nice.. just cheap, that would be great; as we had about $12 in the bank until the tow-truck got there and cost us $10 to tow.... So yeah... a $2 car... keep you eyes open for it...

Thanks for everything guys..

SLIM

The TOP TEN Reasons you should re-elect Mike Scott for Sheriff.

2008-07-07T18:10:00.000-07:00

Driving around town the past few weeks I've started seeing the "Re-Elect Sheriff Mike Scott" signs popping up all across town.

These signs have inspired me to write this evenings post, on the Top Ten reasons that YOU should Re-Elect Mike Scott.

I've had to privilege of SEEING this man on multiple occasions, however have yet the honor of meeting him and shaking the hand that helps to keep my family safe at night.

Perhaps one day, the Sheriff will read this post and realize that I'm freakin' awesome, at which point he'll invite me to lunch, probably to P.F. Changs (because seriously.. the 'Hot Fish' there is MAGNIFICENT!). He'll then thank me for my part in keeping the streets of San Carlos safe with my commitment to watch the neighborhood and being a mentor the teens and children of SCP.

Naturally, he'll then finally present me with my Honorary Sheriffs Deputy Badge, which I don't believe happens that often with him... which makes the fact that I have one even more punk rock!

So now... without further ado: The Top Ten Reasons to Re-Elect Sheriff Mike Scott.

#1. Veinte (for those of you who aren't fluent in Spanish, like myself, that means '20') | The great Sheriff Dr. Mike Scott has been with the Lee County Sheriff's Office since 1988.

Let's just do the math here 2008 minus 1988 = 20 years.

TWENTY YEARS as a Lee County Police Officer. Not only does he have 20 years as a Lee County Officer under his belt (22 years in law enforcement), but he was born and raised here in good ol' Lee County as well. Seriously, who knows this place better than him!?!

#2. He's a total stud | Seriously, if I was single and he was single, and I was into dudes and he was into dudes: I'd totally make that happen. The scenario is eerily reminiscent of a washed-up music group....

#3. Zebra Stripe Uniforms | Sheriff Scott decided to change the uniforms of the inmates in our prison system to Zebra Stripe black and whites... Now, come on... That's just punk rock.

#4. His Campaign Manager is Primo | His Mother, Appie D'Alessandro Scott, runs the Sheriffs re-election campaign.

This is not a first for this beautiful lady, as she ran the campaign for his last election as well! Being somewhat of a momma's boy myself, I can relate to that sense of family. But more than that, I can relate to the willingness to see great potential in your "Sweet ol' mom" and being confident (and man) enough to step aside and let her do her thing!

#5. Can somebody say "Track Record"? | Yeah... read a paper... his record speaks for itself.

#6. Homeboy's a Christian | The popular old question... What Would Jesus Do?

The answer: vote for Mike Scott!

I was not quite aware, at first, that Dr. Scott was a Christian. I found out at the funeral of a sweet young boy, John E. Halgrim.

See, John Halgrim was a REMARKABLE young man, who at a very young age (early teens) changed the lives of THOUSANDS of people. John had cancer, and while bed-ridden had just one wish: to help save the lives of the kids in Kibera, Kenya, Africa. I had been to Kenya with an organization called "Help the Least of These" to do some filming in the slum of Kibera, Kenya.

I brought that footage back and had the opportunity to work on a video of John Halgrim... his plea for people to help him help others. (you can find the video here, if the video doesn't play, you can click the links below it the view it)

Shortly after making the video, John sadly passed away.

At his funeral, they showed the video that I had made for John and "HTLOT". I happened to be sitting directly behind Sheriff Scott. After the video, he leaned over the woman next to him (who I'm assuming to be his mother...?) and told her how amazing the video was. I was proud to be a part of John's ministry, just as I know Sheriff Scott was proud to be there for that service, and proud to present John's family with the "Do the Right Thing Award" in honor of their son.

It was later that I was able to share that story to my friend and business partner, JoNeal, when Joe was like "Dude.. you know that guys a super Christian!?!" Good. We need more people who be lovin' Jesus serving in offices in this country!

#7. It would mean that Rod Shoap and Christian Meister wouldn't be in office | Both are dorks... trust me.

Meister:

Shoap:

Not much is known about Christian Meister, but Rod Shoap is just a tool.

The instant turn off for me (of course, speaking as the owner of a marketing and design company) is Shoap's crap-hole website (www.rodshoap.com ... ego much!?) ... seriously dude, if you REALLY want to get re-elected after your joke of a run as Sheriff, you might want to get AT LEAST a DECENT, if not AWESOME website, without the crappy flash, cheesy picture, and HUGE "Give me all your money now" buttons all over the place...

Come to think of it, Mr. Meister (at least that's fun to say!) needs a spruce up as well, not-to-mention the title line (the bar at the VERY TOP of your web browsers screen) off his website (www.meisterforsheriff.com) reads: "Sheriff Scott employs criminally convicted officers, falsifies, discriminates" ... Seriously bro... the FIRST impression of you is whining and talking trash? What are you... French!? (Now, I LOVE the French, so if you're French, don't take that wrong... I only included that last remark for dramatic effect..)

You don't reach your hand out to shake another person in introduction, saying "Hey! My name is Slim, and I think this guy over here is a d-bag!" That's just not cool. They say that your first impression is your ONLY impression... Senior Meister's score: ZERO.

The funny thing: on Sheriff Scott's page (www.wewantmike.com) he bashes neither opponent, yet they both seem rather quick to talk out of their 'hind-quarters' about this He-Man.

(I must inform those of you who don't know me well, that I'm not typically one for 'talking smack', but both of these fellows after left such a bad taste in my mouth with their child-like antics... so please, don't judge me...)

#8. Two Words: Buh Dass | "Reputations are earned!" his website boasts...

...if that's true, this dude's earning a 6 figure reputation salary in my book! No, not a REAL salary, but a salary made up of illustrious "Cool Points". Cheesy... I know... but true. And that's not a "low-number" six-figures either... we're talking in the $800 thousands, AT LEAST...

#9. He's an Amazing Boss | I know, I know, I know... it sounds weird that I, being the OWNER of my business, would refer to the Good Sheriff as my "Boss"

I'll explain:

Since I've declared myself:
and my dog, "The Dude":

as "Self-Appointed Honorary San Carlos K-9 SWAT" (you know, for my superior skills in keeping my community safe and sound... read more on my community greatness on Laura's latest blog post here), I believe that makes Sheriff Dr. Mike Scott my "Self-Appointed Honorary Boss"... which would, in turn, make him the best boss that I've ever had.

I'm actually starting a petition to have the nickname "The Boss" stripped from Bruce Spingsteen (homo), and given to Scott... you know... the guy who actually deserves it! (you can read more about my distaste for ol' Brucy here)

Last, but CERTAINLY not least:

#10. He's got fantastic hair | I know it sounds weird.... you know, because he's bald and all...

But he's only bald because his actual hair invokes such awesomeness that is rivaled only by the beard of Chuck Norris (which is no surprise, being that Norris and Scott are fraternal twins)

I saw the Sheriff's full head of hair once... I was immediately blinded by it's awesomeness.

So there you have it, boys and girls... the OFFICIAL top ten list of why the Great Sheriff Mike Scott should be re-elected and of course, why you should vote for him.

Aight... me and my K-9 counterpart are off to hit the beat... Lock and load, ladies!

SLIM

I AM THE LAW!!!

2008-06-30T08:25:00.000-07:00

FYI: I am the law.

That is all.

10 Things... the addendum.

2008-06-18T12:23:00.000-07:00

I've come to realize that in addition to my "10 Things" post, there are a couple other things that I'm currently loving that did not make it to my list amongst the more 'non-serious' ones.

11. Lego Star Wars for the Wii | Seriously, this game is epic.

In the latest make of it, it combines ALL 6 episodes into one jam-packed piece of awesomeness. With FOUR different modes of game play (which all must be completed in order to 'win' the game) with lots of hidden extras, coupled with an INCREDIBLE gaming interface with the Wii makes this game one of the greatest ever made!

12. Batter Blaster | That's right: Make a better breakfast faster... Batter Blaster.

I'd write more, but I wouldn't want anyone to think that Laura and I are competing on this front page worthy phenomenon. So, read all about it here, at Laura's blog.

So yeah... enjoy both of these pieces of goodness...
SLIM

10 Things I'm Lovin' Right Now...

2008-06-12T08:09:00.000-07:00

(in no particular order)

1. Wine | I’ve often had a glass of wine with dinner. It was always good. However recently, I’ve discovered that in the correct time and quantity, the maximum ‘holy buzz’ is achieved.

Now, I’m not sure if the ‘holy buzz’ actually exists, perhaps that’s a question for ‘Prodigal John’, the author of stuffchristianslike.net, but in MY head the ‘holy buzz’ is that moment of alcoholic trippiness that brushes the border of drunkenness… which by ‘Biblical Law’ does not constitute as ‘drunk’. (See also: TIPSY, FADED,)

2. Dudetians | Believe it or not, in a galaxy far, far away (Woopsy… did I steal that line!?) there exists a planet known as “Duditer” (sounds suspiciously like “Jupiter”) where the inhabitants are all exact replicas (except for their distinct aqua-marine color… duh… everyone knows that) of my dog, Dude. These crazy animals, with ball-topped antenna on their craniums (think pom-pom), are known simply as “Dudetians”.

During a trip to the planet Duditer, I was able to capture this picture of the King of the Dudetians. Know only as: El Hombre.

3. Dudes Night Out | Or DNO, if you ask all of the TVs, microwaves, lamps, computers, soda cans, wine bottles, glass windows, mirrors, and paint cans that have recently been blown up by the Dudes of Dudes Night Out at our two most recent get togethers (and if you ACTUALLY ask them, you might need to look into professional help...). These were both long days full of a bunch of dudes and WAY too many, unnecessary firearms.

Dudes Night Out – the concept is simple… you leave the ladies at home… and the DUDES go OUT … at NIGHT (or sometimes during the DAY… but that would read: DDO, which is too much like ‘Dido’ …. And who would listen to that garbage? “You know how I know you’re gay? You listen to Dido.”)

We’ve even gone so far as to secure the web domain for DNO: www.dudesnightout.com. Yeah… evidently we’ve got that kinda time.

4. TAPCO AK Furniture | Of course, the last one opened the door right up for this one. I recently outfitted my AK-47 with this new furniture set (minus the stupid see-through mag. “You know how I know you’re gay? You’ve got stupid see-through mags on your AK.”) from TAPCO U.S.A.:

Not only does it fit perfectly, but it looks AWESOME. Shoots like a dream too. You know… not that that really matters…

5. Ant Bites | Yeah… just kidding.

6. Alex Cuba | I’m not sure if you’re “into” Latin music, or ‘Musica Latina’ as our Spanish-speaking friends would say, but you’ve GOT to check out Alex Cuba’s latest (and sophomore) album: Agua del Pozo. It’s a little hard to find in the store or online, but is, of course, readily available on iTunes.

EVEN IF YOU DON’T SPEAK SPANISH: buy it. Music is the universal language (along with money… and hugs. Both of which I’m in need of)

7. “FLASH” Shirts from [db]B | As most of you know, I’m a MASSIVE fan of the Dustin Burke Band (myspace.com/dustinburkeband). After a couple trips to their hometown of Dayton, OH and many conversations, my company (SLIM|LINE Visual Communications, www.slimlinedotcom.com) has become the exclusive Marketing & Merchandising company of the Dustin Burke Band.

We recently did these shirts as a joke for the guitar player, Flash Burke.

They make me laugh every time I see them.

8. My Mothers Alfredo | My mother is not Italian. Not even close, actually. She’s a lil’ Irish woman from the South of the US. She’s the best cook on the planet, especially when it comes to Southern food. Italian food was never plentiful in our house. I mean, outside of spaghetti and the occasional lasagna, we never really had homemade Italian.

Well, recently my mother tried her hand at an Alfredo pasta… something that she’s never done…

Blew me away! Seriously… my mom is amazing.

I had to look up the origin of Alfredo sauce… here it is:

So, there was this one guy, right!? His name was Alfred. He was kind of a nerd, so a lot of people in their town didn’t really know him all that well.

So anyway, right, he was making a sauce. Alfred’s sauce… if you will.

He let some of his buddies try it, right, and they were all “ Dude… this John’s is banging, son!”

They started to make it in larger batches and sell it in the town market. People would always be all “Yo, what is this sauce!?!?” and the merchants would be all “Oh, that dude Alfred makes this sauce.” And the consumers were all “Who?”

“Alfred.”

“Who?”

“You know, that dude Alfred… he lives up the hill.”

“Hmmm… Alfred… Alfred… Alfred..”

“You know! The dude with he crazy thick glasses and talks to himself all the time!?”

“Hmmm….”

“Seriously! You know the dude in math class back in middle school who ate grasshoppers for money!?”

“AHHHHH…. ALFRED, OH!”

From that point forward, the sauce was known as Alfred-Oh sauce… however, when it was brought to the states, they changed the name of it at Ellis Island… you know… to make it sound more American or something.

(long way to go for a bad joke… I know.)

9. Men | Yeah okay… we all know this isn’t new… I totally love dudes.

10. BBQ Chicken Chopped Salad from CPK | Srsly! This delectable piece of heaven should been called the ‘BBQ Shiznit Chopped Salad’ because for real… it’s the shiznit.

For those of you who would like to make your own, here’s the best recipe for it (with some minor changes to make it even better) from my friend, Julie, at momswhocook.blogspot.com:

2 chicken breast cooked and chopped
1 bunch romaine, 1 head iceberg chopped
1 c. jack cheese grated
1/2 to 1 can black beans drained and rinsed
1/2 to 1 can corn (optional)
1/2 c. chopped red onion
chopped cilantro to taste
chopped tomatoes
chopped cucumber (optional)
jicama (optional)
tortilla chips
Bulls eye BBQ sauce
Ranch
limes

Cook chicken and cover in bulls eye bbq sauce. Chop and toss the rest of the ingredients. Toss with the ranch dressing, crush chips, squeeze lime, and drizzle BBQ sauce on top right before serving. I like mine, drenched in BBQ sauce and lime!

Make it. Now.

So, ladies and gents… this concludes the “10 Things I’m Loving Right Now” thread on my blog. The ‘challenge’ in this post is to pick 10 things that aren’t things that you’ve loved all your life, and are not your family, close friends, etc.

They say this is really hard. I found it pretty easy. But I digress…

Mad Love,
The Slim One

Ants...

2008-06-11T05:00:00.000-07:00

...they ate me....

.....ate me good.....

But seriously... I recently made some invites to give to Laura for an upcoming suiree. Now, if you know me, you know that I'm not good with that whole "remembering stuff" thing.... so needless to say, I was rather impressed with myself for bringing them home! Not to mention, I also remembered to bring home two Tupperware (not actual Tupperware, it's the off brand... you know... 'cause we're cheap....) that had been sitting in my office.

Well... naturally, I didn't remember to bring all of the stuff into my house.

Laura woke me this morning, asking where the invites were so that they could be cut a distributed accordingly. In my attempt to be chivalrous, I decided to roll out of bed (take a squeege) toss some shorts on (ewwwww...) and retrieve said forgotten items..

I should've worn waiters and galoshes , evidently...

Much to my surprise (which really shouldn't have surprised me at all) after opening my passenger door and filling my hands with the goods, I found myself in an immense amount of pain... generally in my footular region.

I looked down at my feet (insert fat joke here) to see them covered in roughly 1.3 billion ants. They proceeded to eat my feet, paying special attention to my right foot. (see below)

Due to the fact that my hands were full, and throwing my wifes invitations on the wet ground was not an option, I had to take it like a man, and leave the flesh eating terrors on my feet until I got in the house... at which point, I cried like a school girl.

That's my morning. It's a WONDERFUL start to my day...

(be on the look out for "The Slim-One Presents: '10 Things I'm Loving Right Now'" coming soon!)

Funk...

2008-06-06T20:27:00.001-07:00

...I've been in one...

...for a while...

The quick run-down...

2008-04-02T05:49:00.000-07:00

...I'm still fat... REALLY fat.
...My zipper still falls down... REALLY down.
...I still suck at blogging... REALLY suck at blogging.
...I still can't play bagpipes... REALLY can't play.
...You CAN still get my updates by following the directions below... REALLY follow directions below.

Eh... it is what it is.

I suck...

2008-03-10T18:47:00.001-07:00

...at blogging. Better at the updates... hit me up there (see below for instructions)

Not that I REALLY have that much going on...

2008-03-05T05:33:00.000-08:00

BUT... you can know easily follow what I'm doing...

Simply text: follow theslim
To: 40404

And you'll automatically be updated on things in my life.

Do it...

S

Of Zippers and Bagpipes...

2008-02-11T17:26:00.000-08:00

So... I realized something I already knew.

Ever had one of those moments? You know, where you know something but are in a constant state of denile about it?

Yeah, that was me today.

My favorite pair of shorts has recently suffered some trauma in the crotch regin (NOT WHAT YOU THINK! {sorry to any kids that may read this}) ... for some reason, my zipper has decided that I has become afraid of heights, or perhaps has been practicing the swan dive while I wasn't looking.... er... not that I stare at my zipper a lot... 'cause that would be creepy........

Anyway... it got me thinking about different ways that you could mention that someones (or your own!) fly is down:

• You've got Windows on your laptop.
• You need to bring your tray table to the upright and locked position.
• Your pod bay door is open, Hal.
• Ensign Hanes is reporting a hull breach on the lower deck, Sir!
• The Buick is not all the way in the garage.
• Our next guest is someone who needs no introduction...
• What!? You can't afford air conditioning!?!
• I always knew you were crazy, but now I can see ya nuts.
• There's a gap in your defensive perimeter.

Yeah... sorry... when boredom grips me... it grips me good!

ON A SIDE NOTE:

I started bagpipe lessons today. Yay! My goal, of course, is to carry the celtic family heritage and perhaps having something rather unique hobby to pass along to my kids. BUT ultimately, it's to work my way up to this guy.... 'cause he's cool.

A brief look at the pipes recent history:
During the expansion of the British Empire, spearheaded by British military forces which included Highland regiments, the Great Highland Bagpipe was diffused and has become well-known world-wide. This surge in popularity was boosted by large numbers of pipers trained for military service in the two World Wars. The surge coincided with a decline in the popularity of many traditional forms of bagpipe throughout Europe, which began to be displaced by instruments from the classical tradition and later by gramophone and radio. Police forces in Scotland, Canada, Australia and the USA (although not as commonly widespread) have also formed pipe bands. The Tayside Police Pipe band, still in existence, was founded in 1905. In the United Kingdom and Commonwealth Nations such as Canada and New Zealand, the bagpipe is commonly used in the military and is often played in formal ceremonies. Foreign militaries patterned after the British Army have also taken the Highland bagpipe into use, including but not restricted to Uganda, Pakistan, and Oman, effectively spreading official military use to Africa, Asia and the Middle East, respectively.

In the modern era the use of bagpipes has become a common tradition for military and police funerals and memorials in the anglophone world, and they are often used at the funerals of high-ranking civilian public officials as well. Weddings, dances and parties are also venues for piping.

In more recent years, often driven by revivals of native folk music and dance, many types of bagpipes have resurged in popularity, and in many cases instruments that were on the brink of extinction have become extremely popular. In Brittany, the concept of the pipe band was adopted, the Great Highland Bagpipe was brought in and the bagad was created, a showcase ensemble for Breton folk music. The pipe band idiom has also been adopted in Spain where various types of band are popular.

Who knew, huh?

Anyway... wish me luck as I venture into the HARDEST instrument I've ever been around!

Amani,
SLIM

Dudes night out...

2008-02-01T22:31:00.000-08:00

...some times you just need 'em.

I think that I will try to throw together a last minute dudes night out for tomorrow night (which is actually TONIGHT, as it's 1:30am..) should be fun.

Man.. you would think I have more to write...

Maybe I'll post some DNO pictures and stories... but then again: What happens at DNO stays at DNO....

S

I wish that I had...

2008-01-31T15:36:00.000-08:00

...faith.

I'm surrounded by people of 'faith', yet I constantly struggle to figure out what that actually looks like.

I struggle, becuase I've never seen inside the United States. I only first saw it when I arrived in Kenya last summer.

You can read more about it in my earlier blogs.

I saw hope. I saw trust. Joy. Happiness... but most of all I saw faith. These peoeple, dispite having nothing and nothing to live for, they find Christ in EVERY situation. It was border-line sickening.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm proud to be an American (where at least I know I'm free, and I wont forget the men who died to give that right to meeeee... and I'll gladly (pause) stand UP next to you and defend her still today. ‘Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land, God bless the USA) but sadly we must face that we live in a Godless country. Not that he's not here, but that we don't choose to acknowledge him.

Sure some of us do (myself certainly not included) but corporatly, as a nation, we don't.

As many of you know, I've been struggling with a lot of things lately. Struggling with my job, my brain, my calling, the list could go on and on... surprisingly, I was cheered up today by an e-mail that otherwise wouldn't be so cheery.

This is from world-renown photographer, Bobby Pal. (I'll post some of his pictures here one day)

Bobby lives in Kenya, but is often employed by governments to do photography work. He sent me this e-mail today:

"hey slim my bro
how are you
thought of you today as i was having my devotions
im still in france
but im sad about what is happening
we pray in all this Jesus would be seen
we need you prayers and pls tell as many people as you can to pray for kenya
your brother
bobby"

Despite all the fighting and such going on in Kenya (which thankfully he's not directly in the middle of) Bobby is able to look past it, put HIS feelings about his country, government, and well being aside to seek out God through it.

Bobby gives me hope.

I hope that I can keep it...

Please, pray for Bobby... for Kenya... Africa... the world... and me.

SLIM

The heart of worship...

2008-01-17T17:30:00.000-08:00

...is a song that I'm not entirely thrilled about.

Random.

I know.

A song I seemed to have lost interest in through the years, probably due to the fact that since '99 (when the tune came out) until now, I've played the song roughly 1,299,384,583,598,324,256,776,209.25 times.

But...

Due to recent events, the words of this semi-sacred worship classic ring true.

I'll give you the quick run down:

They say that your first Christmas as a married couple is the most memorable. I would agree.

Our First Christmas weekend started a little like this.... I knew that I would be playing with 'Grey No More' at a camp in Alva, FL from the Wednesday after Crimma to the following Sunday, so I packed up all of my gear to get it out of the way (one less thing to worry about when we got home.)

I decided that we should leave my guitars and amps at my folks house, just to be safe. So we packed up the presents for my family and headed to their house.

We dropped off the presents the my parents house and randomly got into conversation with the f-a-m... after a while we realized that we had lost track of time and were going to be late to a hockey game with some friends (FL Everblades vs. Columba Inferno... we won... and by 'we' I mean the Inferno... don't get me wrong, I love the Blades, but theys gots nothin on my Inferno!) so we dipped out..

As we started to leave, mom reminded me that we had not dropped the gear off!

"I'll either drop it off in the morning, or just leave it in my garage..." I said "....no big deal!" I casually mumbled.

We headed off to the game, and made it back home around Midnight.

I was on the other side of the house when I hear what sounded like a mass quantitiy of glass shattering, followed by a gentle, but sad "Help..."

Without hesitation (after a couple moments) I ran (walked briskly, anyway) through the cribble to find the Crimma Tree on the floor and a few dozen glass and porcelain ornaments strewn across our tile floor in a broken mess...

"No big deal..." the thought rang through my cranium once again.

After about an hour of sweeping and fighting the dog off, we were able to get the last of it picked up, at which time Laura and I went to the room and passed out.

I woke up early Saturday (before Crimma) remembering that my gear was in my car, and was preparing myself to clean it all out to head to O-Town for Crimma with The Macks.

As the garage door began to open...

Slowly...

I saw that my rear passenger door was open.

For some reason, the garage door now started to open MUCH, MUCH slower... as if the whole world began to hold it's breath..

It continued to open to reveal that my trunk too, was ajar.

To my dismay I found that I had 4 guitars, 2 amps, and roughly $900 worth of microphones jacked from my A-B Ride...

Sad.

I know.

Tell me about it!

I thought again: "No big deal..."

What seemed, at the time, to be a small issue turned into a train wreck. I waited for the police report to clear that Thursday and on called my {INSERT LARGE NATIONAL INSURANCE COMPANY NAME HERE} agent to break him the good news... Turns out I had no insurance, and my renters could only cover $1000 of the close to $15,000 loss.

Sadder.

I knower.

Tell me more-er about it!

It was in this moment that God began knocking at my door.

I had been feeling for a while that God was trying to get my attention. It was pretty much unmistakable at this point.

I wrestled with the thought that I just wasn't meant to play music.

"Is this true?" I had to ask myself.

"Did God take me this far, just to drop me off?" I continued...

"God, am I NOT supposed to be doing this?" I couldn't help but ask.

I asked this question for a couple of days. After which point God seemed to deliver the metaphorical 'back-hand', stating that "...if I didn't need you to do this, I wouldn't have left you with one guitar!"

It made sense.

Out of all the gear they was pilfered from me, they left the ONLY guitar really worth taking: 1981 Les Paul.

It seemed as if Mr. Redman had penned that tune just for me. For once in my life all really HAD BEEN stripped away from me.

I had no choice. I HAD to come to God... empty-handed... humbled... completely dependent on God.

God began to speak to me about worship. Not singing at church on Sunday... but WORSHIP. What it meant to glorify God in EVERYTHING that I do. In my realtionship with my wife... my family... my friends... even my dog!

In the way I do my job... talk to strangers... watch TV...

"WORSHIP ME!" God seemed to bellow from somewhere in the clouds.

I decided to leave 'Grey No More' that week. I would then follow suit and leave the Summit Worship Band as well... for a while anyway.

God seemed to pull me off the 'stage' saying how He didn't need me to be up there if I wasn't going to LEAD people, not just with music, but with MY LIFE.

I began to fast and pray about my life... my roll in worship... what I'm supposed to do with this little bit talent, large imagination, and new-found education.

I'm still not sure what it is... but I feel closer to it... we'll see what the future holds.

Please pray for me.

Amani,
SLIM

p.s. Looks like {INSERT LARGE NATIONAL INSURANCE COMPANY NAME HERE} is going to pay for the boggarted equipment after all! SUCKERS!!

If there is only ONE THING that you would ever do for me...

2008-01-02T15:32:00.000-08:00

...do it for the family if "Momma Jill" Whitlock.

Most of you who know me, are also familiar with one, more, or all of the Whitlock brothers: Jacob "Kubby" Whitlock, Jonathan "Jables" Whitlock, and Jesse "Big Sammitch" Whitlock.

Three invaluable friends of mine, who had one of the most precious mothers: Momma Jill.

Rather unexpectadly, Momma Jill passed away last Saturday. She had never been (as long as I had known her anyway) in incredible health, but she certainly hadn't been in any life-threatening danger.

After suffering a stroke in BOTH sides of her brain, the day after Christmas, she spent the remainder of the week in a coma until God took her home come the weekend.

Jill Marie Whitlock
Mother, Teacher, Follower of God
1950-2007

When Momma Jill left us, she left behind a legacy in her children, and BOATLOADS of stories and memories that will be cherished for the rest of our lives. Sadly, she also left behind the financial responsibility of her funeral costs to these three young men.

It is now OUR responsibility as friends (and family) of the Whitlock bros. and as DECENT HUMAN BEINGS to help aid our mates!

There is a day long (1pm-6pm) fundraising event that will be going on THIS SUNDAY, January 6th, at FOREVER TATTOO in Ft. Myers:

15560 McGregor blvd. suite 10
Fort Myers, FL. 33908
phone number to the shop is 239.415.4387

Mark Stewart, the owner of Forever Tattoo and friend of mine, Bishop, and the Whitlock family, is opening his shop for this event... They will be raffling two $100 gift certificates for Tattoos, at only $5 for a ticket, I'm sure that we could all afford 3, 4, even 5 of these tickets. Please remember that you're not investing in tattoos.. your investing the memory of this amazing woman.

Along with the raffle there will be art (from some of the GREATEST local artists) for sale and a bake sale (and seriously... who doesn't enjoy a good brownie at the local bake sale!?!) REMEMBER: 100% of the days sales go STRAIGHT to help Momma Jill and her family with funeral costs, etc. EVERY CENT!

And if all of that wasn't enough to get you in the door: there will also be some surprises at the event, which will remain nameless at this time... but trust me: YOU DO NOT WANT TO MISS IT!!

The approximate cost for the cremation is $2,500 (on the low end) plus the memorial costs, etc. So please, if not for Momma Jill, if not for Kubby, Jables, and Sammitch, do it for me. As a favor.

Please, we do not want the Whitlocks to have to 'settle' in these arrangements, but instead want to help and still be able to bless them.

If you would like to make larger, tax-deductible donations to this event/cause, please contact me at: slim@summitlife.com so that I can get you the information.

Here is a word from Kubby himself:

"I have been flooded with people asking me what they can do to help and if there is anything they can do just let them know so, I am letting you know... You all have asked me what I need and this is it. Please help out my family. Thank you and I love you all. God will also bless you for your help don’t forget that."

If you've taken the time to read this, it means you have a heart. Please re-post this bulletin, so that we can get the word out on this FAST APPROACHING event.

Thank you, and God Bless you.
Peace,
The Slim

On life and death...

2007-12-11T18:00:00.000-08:00

....some of you know my story....
....some of you don't.... that's okay.

For those of you who don't, I'll give you a brief portion of my life... my testimony, if you will.

For the majority of my life, I grew up on what we (in the hood) affectionately call: Soul Food. It's delicious. It's amazing. It's fried. God bless my mom. A small southern woman with a heart of gold(en fried chicken) and a always a full pitcher of sweet tea!

She always had the best intentions of making sure that we always had a good, home-cooked meal on the table. Little did I know that my frame, body structure, and bone mass, when combined with mass quantities of food (especially that of the fried variety) would slowly (but surely) begin to kill me...

Say what!?

Yes....

My mother tried to kill me.

Certainly not intentionally.

After many years of having what some Doctors would call a "weight problem" I found myself only getting bigger and bigger.

Now don't get me wrong... I LOVE being a 'big guy'... Being naturally stronger and more intimidating is good... especially in my case, as I may or may not be what some would call 'soft.'

However, I needed to be a HEALTHY 'big guy.'

Enter a new diet plan: Stop drinking sodas.

That's right. My diet, as of November 2005 was simply the 'no-soda-pop-having-at-all-unless-it-was-a-diet-,-but-certainly-not-a-full-fat-soda' diet.

I found myself getting sicker and sicker as I moved into December of that year.

I knew it was because my body couldn't deal with my rather large hind-quarters.

Sicker.

Sicker..

Sicker...

I became.

Until Super Bowl Sunday (2006) when my family had to rush a rather unconscious 'Slim' to the ER.

I'm not sure if you know much about blood sugar, but the average person should be around 120 (give or take, of course)... 250 is not bad, but certainly not good! 350: you got some issues. 450: you need to get to the hospital. 550: you might want to consider making your peace with God.

750: You're The Slim on Super Bowl Sunday.

"You really shouldn't be alive right now."

Very comforting words from the Dr.

After clocking in between 650 and 700 lbs. at the hospital that night, I spent the week in the ICU of Lee Memorial Hospital... essentially preparing myself for kick the proverbial bucket.

Evidently, I was diabetic. Runs in my family, so I'm not sure why I was surprise by this notion.

To make matters worse, I wasn't controlling my diet AT ALL. Not that I was gorging myself, by any means... quite the opposite actually. I would 1, 2, even 3 days without eating... not really thinking or paying attention to it.

Come to find out I was living (as a 700lb. man) on a 1200 kCal diet... UNTIL I cut out sodas and dropped to (in some cases) just a few hindered calories a day. This propelled my diabetes and sickness.

In affect, going on a diet almost killed me.

For the second time in my life, I as at the receiving end of attempted murder... the weapon of choice: food.

I was diagnosed with Type II diabetes. Completely insulin dependant.

"The VERY BEST case scenario, would be that you would be on the insulin shot (5 times/day) for the next four years. If that went well, you'd move to the insulin pill for another four years." the Doctor explained later that week.

"All in all, IF YOU'RE LUCKY, you'll be spending AT LEAST the next 8 years on insulin."

"Great..." I facetiously thought...

God obviously had bigger plans for my life.

I ended up walking out of that joint after a week in Intensive Care. I walked out with a new sense of life and a new diet.

I quickly lost 150lbs. and with the weight went the diabetes.

This morning, just shy of two years later, I clocked in at 398lbs. Some would still say "Dang, you're huge." however they fail to realize I'm nearly HALF of what I once was.

Which leads me to the purpose for this blog.

I'm on a new quest (as far as my diet goes, anyway)

Now, armed with a 24-hour gym, personal trainer, and dietitian I continue to push forward to drop some 'El-Bees'.

150 to actually.

I joined www.traineo.com, an online resource that helps you track your diet, exercise, and weight. You can see my progress here:

http://theslim.traineo.com.

Please, if you would be so kind, I need all of the encouragement and motivation that I can get! Simply check in once a day, week, or even month to check on my progress. If you see that I'm not working out, or I'm eating bad, or simply not losing weight... Call me on it! Push me.

So yeah... moral of the story: Live. Don't die. And help me out.

And be careful of what you eat, as somebody may be trying to kill you with it!

Thoughts...

2007-12-08T17:25:00.000-08:00

...swinging soundly.
Back and forth.
Teeter.
Totter.

I have a head. It is full of thoughts. When left unattended it causes lack of sleep, lack of appetite, lack of really caring about anything.

The things that I DO care about end up flashing morbid variations and skewed versions of the reality.

I'm currently on Lunesta. It seems to be the only thing that makes me sleep. 1mg, 2mg and 3mg is how they come. 1mg is what they give the average person with a sleeping disorder. 3mg is what they give the big boys with chronic insomnia. I take 4 a night. Is it just me or is that 12x the dosage of a regular person who randomly can't sleep?

And of course, two of the top side effects are: Hallucinations and Vivid Dreams. Sometimes I can't tell the difference. Am I dreaming these crazy things? Or am I actually doing these?

Does 'Blogger' exist? Am I actually typing this right now?

Hello?

Can you hear me?

"Yes!?" my dog responds.

"Seriously, Dude... you're a dog..." I lazily retort.

"You seem to have thoughts swinging soundly. Back and forth. Teeter. Totter."

"You Sir, are quite profound. Not to mention observant." I say, still skeptical of my talking dog... "Why don't you do you any other tricks but 'sit'? I mean, other dogs do them? And why do you only chew up random crap? Do you have mange? Do you feel lonely? Do you need a friend? Do you like me and Laura?..." I seem to mutter questions without hesitation.

"Bro, you need to slow down." says my dog.

"Seriously," I think to myself "am I REALLY taking advice from my dog?"

I suppose it makes sense. I mean, if my dog can talk I figure he's got to be relatively smart.

He's cute too. And part Chow-Chow. How now brown Chow... HA. I'm funny.... and mildly alone.

And by 'mildly' I mean a lot. Lonely enough for my mind to wander... to think. And when left unattended it causes lack of sleep, lack of appetite, lack of really caring about anything.

The things that I DO care about end up flashing morbid variations and skewed versions of the reality.

I like all of you... love most. Adore only one... and she's away. She's better than cake. And MAC computers.

As a matter of fact, she's better than:
_ guitars
_ amps
_ Italian sodas
_ iron and wood 'music man' figurines
_ Leppraclaus
_ ice cream
_ Lunesta (TM, of course)
_ talking dogs
_ Mexican food
_ Chinese food
_ Italian food
_ food in general
_ weight loss
_ red wine
_ lactic acid fermentation
_ surround sound systems
_ new baby smells (not the poopy kind though..)
_ baby seals
_ mush

... and much like a 'RONCO' commercial: MUCH, MUCH MORE!

Whatever... she's not here... maybe with some Lunesta, I can at least THINK she's here...

Okaybye.

p.s.- sorry for the rant.

Life kinda sucks...

2007-11-18T03:09:00.000-08:00

....when she's not around.

I miss her smile. And lots of other things.

A poem for my wife, while I'm at work:

2007-10-26T18:48:00.000-07:00

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
When I get home from work
do you you wanna make out o somesing?

PENN STATE!!!!!!!

Why...

2007-10-22T18:20:00.000-07:00

...is life so hard? Why is the right path narrow?

Why is sin so much fun, and easy to do?

Why are rainbows good?

Why do I bother asking?

Why...

Y...

Hmmm..

I think.. therefore I am.

A penny saved is a penny earned...

I'll give you a penny for your thoughts... penny spent...

Care for two?

...cents that is...

or perhaps sense?

I have a few of the those... 7 if you want to get technical...

Whatev....
...er

Do you think that you know me?

Do you think you have a clue?

Here's one:

I'm human.

You could learn everything there is to know about me by that statement.

I'm naive. Ignorant. A sinner. A struggler. I'm dishonest. I have no will power.

I suck.

Do you?

Care to wager?

Whataya gonna do?

The Boss...

2007-10-10T15:01:00.000-07:00

This may just be pensive rambling of a bitter soul... could just be a random notion... could just be a proverbial wild hair up my proverbial rear-end...

BUT... I was driving to work yesterday. Doesn't seem to out of the ordinary, huh? Of course, I wasn't in my car, as it has just been finished... I was driving in the Bidwells (Laura's bosses) Toyota Highlander. One of the best features of their pimp wagon is SIRIUS satellite radio.

I've always thought to myself "Self, SIRIUS and XM aren't really that cool. They're pretty much, whatever. Who really needs 'em?"

Well, that was before I had one at my disposal. I've fallen in love with the comedy channel. It's 24 hours of stand-up comedy, and they play a TON of Mitch Hedberg which is AWESOME!

Anyway, there was and AD on (for being 'ad free' radio, there sure are a lot of ads!) for another channel. Channel 10.

My mind began to wander as I heard what came from the stock system in this g-ride. I heard that Bruce Springsteen now has HIS OWN channel on SIRIUS.

That's right, and channel that plays NON-STOP (except for the 'commercial-free' commercial breaks...) Bruce Springsteen music. Concerts, interviews, CDs... crazy.

I thought, "Man, what am I doing wrong? Is it no talent?" I'd like to think I'm kind of a decent guitar player, so hopefully that's out of the question.

"Is it for a lack of drive?"

No... I play my hind-quarters off every chance that I get.

"Is it my image?"

No, this picture (from my Springsteen archive.. you know, from when me and him hung out all the time...) pretty much proves that:

I mean, seriously... I'm strugglin' to just make a record that people will actually want to listen to and this dude gets his OWN TWENTY-FOUR HOUR channel on SIRIUS? I mean, I understand that he's 'The Boss' and all... but dang... can't a brother catch a break?

Yeah... here's a nerdy ending for you:

< / r a n t >

Enspireashun...

2007-10-05T18:23:00.000-07:00

...I need some.

My 'artistic life' is becoming routine. I play a lot of music, however I'm not writing much and I'm recording less! I draw up new shirts, and marketing ideas that pretty much never make it to the computer screen, or less end up printed.

What's the deal?

I'm in the most amazing, adventurous, crazy time of my life. My dog is cool. My wife is pretty awesome too. My friends are the best that you could ask for. I've got a great job working with some of the coolest people I know.

Seems that my creativity is significantly decreased when I'm on the top of world. I re-read a Secret today that I ran across the other day:

Now, I'm not saying that I'm depressed, don't hear that... however the writer makes sense to me. Seems as if I'm that artist that envokes their jealousy. It's not even so much that I'm not inspired... as there are many things in my life that strike awe and wonder within me. It's just that I can't harness the inspiration that I recieve daily.

What's a dude to do?

Not just some lame bumper sticker...

2007-10-03T16:29:00.000-07:00

I realized today that I love my wife.

"Weird..." you're thinking, I'm sure.

"...how can he just now realize that?"

I don't know everything in life, but I know a lot... maybe more than most. I even knew a lot about us:

I knew that I was in love with her the very moment I saw her. I knew that she would be my wife in that moment as well. I knew that it would be able a battle to win her heart... a battle that could only be won with God on my side! I knew that she would make an amazing wife, and an incredible mother.

I didn't, however, really understand intimacy. I tried to get a deeper understanding the word.... so I went to webster.com.

1b : belonging to or characterizing one's deepest nature
2 : marked by very close association, contact, or familiarity <intimate knowledge of the someone>

See, I had a knowledge of Laura Beth... but not an INTIMATE knowledge of Laura Beth.

Before we got married, we might as well have been living together: I would get to the house around 7:30 in the morning... just in time to kiss her goodbye as she headed off to work. I would then make myself breakfast, grab a shower, get dressed and head off to work. After a 'long day at the office' I would come back to the house for dinner and a movie (or whatever we had planned that night), I would then stay until it got way too late and I would head home, or to my parents house, or whatever.

I thought "Man, there's not really that much more that I could learn about her..." I would even go so far as to say "...and there's no way that I could love her more than I do now!"

I couldn't have been more wrong.

As I sit on my couch... roughly 10 'til 9pm on Wedneesday... I'm coming to the conclusion that I didn't actually love her until today.

Don't get me wrong... I LIKED her a whole lot bunches, and I was (and am) most certainly IN love with her.

God has been teaching me over the last couple weeks (you know, in the wicked long time I've been married) the difference between loving someone and and being IN love with somebody.

It's easy to be in love with my wife. She's wicked hot. She's more-than-intelligent. She's got an amazing sense of humor, and an even more incredible personality. You can refer to previous posts for a more detailed list.

However,

It's hard (sometimes)

to love

my wife.

She nags me. She whines a lot. She doesn't use her blinker when switches lanes or turns. She always forgets to log out of Myspace and Facebook when she's done. And she can't seem to close the bag of doggy treats EVERY morning.

But I realize it's in these moments that I can not possibly live without her. God has designed her (idiosyncrasies and all) to fit me perfectly. You see, all the things she does that drive me nuts are things I don't do... as all the things that I do that drive her up a wall are things that SHE doesn't do. It's like pieces of a puzzle finally falling into place.

In my quest to discover the meaning of intimacy, I read a dozen or so articles from teachers, philosohpers and religious leaders trying to describe what intimacy is.

Finally, I ran into someone who helped to make it make more sense. Jim Hines is the Executive Pastor of Summit Church, and also happens to be my direct suppirior at work. He went to the Ukrane a few weeks ago (as he does about a billion times a year) and upon his arrivial home (just in time to make it our wedding!) all that he could talk about was how much he missed his wife.

"Outside of anything obvious," he said "I missed the feeling of Mary sleeping next to me."

"Sleeping alone just sucked!"

He had my attention.

"You know what intimacy is, Slim?"

"No... not really... enlighten me."

"Sitting on the couch next to my wife, knowing that no matter what idiot or bonehead move I make, she'll still be right there... on the couch loving me just the same."

Wow.

I pondered that notion today at dinner.

I'm not sure why.

But I did.

She looked across the table at me and asked if I wanted to go to the christian bookstore with her. Not something I was entirely interested in.

"Nah... I'm good." I said without a thought or hesitation.

I finished my dinner, cleaned off the table and sat down to watch TV and surf the net. This concept of intimacy kept running in circles around my brain.

Many circles spun 'round my cranium long enough for me to notice that I was sitting.... on my couch... alone.

I was sad. My stomach turned. A single tear fell from one of the round things at the top of my head... eyes, I think they're called. I knew that she would be back, after all she was just going to the store. I knew that the loved me and felt loved.

But still, I felt alone... a part from the lover, my partner, my mate, my wife. A feeling that I didn't want to feel?

What changed? Did I miss the nagging? The perpetual not logging out of online networking communities?

No.

I missed her.

All of her.

I loved my wife for the first time... the way that God intended.

Life seemed in an instant to make a little bit more sense.

I sit here... breathing a fresh breath of life. Content. Happy. Loving everything about my life and my wife.... all of it... all of her.

And with that, I'm off to bed... with my wife... whom I love.

p.s. - I SUCK at blogging...

2007-09-28T09:48:00.000-07:00

... so here's the deal...

I've had a 'private' blog that very few people actually know about (and at that even they don't really know who I am) since I was in High School.

I post all my dirty little secrets on that blog... All the strange thoughts I have... the more strange interactions that I have with people that I generally keep to myself.

As I was writing a new poem in it today... I suddenly realized that I keep my 'private' blog pretty much up-to-date, however I never write in my public blog. What the crap is up with that? Do I just not care? Was I simply doing it because it was a trend? Am I doing it because I wanted to get responses from people, that I just didn't get?

Was I doing it because I truly wanted help, and accountability and nobody responded but one person? (Thank you so much for your heart Bro.)

Why do we blog?

As of September 2007, blog search engine Technorati was tracking more than 106 million blogs. ONE HUNDRED SIX MILLION blogs.

Do we think people care about our stories? Do we think people are interested in what we have to say? Speak now, or forever hold your peace...

I thought about this a lot today, as I was sitting at my desk listening to the new album from a buddy of mine, Scotty McFall (myspace.com/scottmcfall) at deafining levels on account of me being the only one here.

Can a life be changed by a paragraph that I 'e-pen' here? By a sentence? A word?

As some of you know, I'm a POST SECRET fanatic.. I've been following this incredible website since like '99. It's an amazing art website, where you create a homemade postcard with your deepest, darkest secret and mail it in. People can e-mail the website and 'respond' to some of the secrets. It's really a great thing.

I, myself, have actually had two of my secrets posted on there in the last few years.

The site is changed every Sunday. I logged on today to check the new secrets. One REALLY caught my eye:

Now, it wasn't the the card that got my attention so much as what followed did. You see, a young man named Ryan in South Dakota responded to the postcard saying:

"Dear Frank,

I feel the same way. I often wonder why I even have a phone because I rarely receive calls. If there was a way we could contact each other that would be cool. My phone number is 605-212-7787 (with permission).

Sincerely,
Ryan (with permission)"

I thought "For real!?! Did this guy ACTUALLY put his phone number up on there? Does he not know that he's going to get FLOODED with calls from people like me, who just want to call him because he put it up there?!!"

Of course, as is my nature, I instantly grabbed the phone, opened it up, took a deep breath and called the number.

"What am I going to say to him?" I thought "Should I prank him? Should I be serious? Will he even pick up?"

The phone rang.

It rang again.

And again.

"Man, I'm going to have to leave a message... huh."

It rang.

And then once more.

After the 5th ring, a soft spoken voice came across the other side... "Hello?"

"Hey Ryan?"

"Yes."

"My name is Slim, from Ft. Myers, FL"

"Slim!! How are you!"

I had to look at my phone... did this guy really know me? I mean seriously... what are the odds?

"I'm fine, thank you! And yourself?" I responded.

"I've been so great lately."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

"I've talked to some of the most amazing people lately, from ALL over the world. It's amazing how I can't get anyone around me to speak to me... I have no real friends... nobody here who actually cares. But for the past week I've been flooded with people calling up, just to tell me that they love me."

I hesitated to speak as my mind raced... in THIS moment God convicted me in such a huge way. Because I AM everyone in South Dakota that neglected this guy. I AM the person who makes people sad and lonely. I AM the person makes others feel left out... looked-over... worthless, not for the things that I do, but for the things that I do NOT do.

At the moment, the only thing that was in my brain was "They will know that we are Christians by our love."

Man.

"I love you." Three very simple words. Words that get thrown around too much. But do we ever think about how powerful those words are? Maybe they've lost their meaning to those of us who hear them constantly, but do we think about how much it affects the people who never hear it?

I poured through the Word, trying to find descriptions of love.

Proverbs 10:12
Hatred stirs up dissension, but love covers over all wrongs.

Song of Solomon 8:6
Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave.

Song of Solomon 8:7
Many waters cannot quench love; rivers cannot wash it away. If one were to give all the wealth of his house for love, it would be utterly scorned.

John 15:13
Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.

1 Corinthians 13:1 (and some change)
If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Colossians 3:14
And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.

1 John 3:16
This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers.

1 John 4:18
There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.

1 John 4:8
Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.

Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love: we certainly take that word for granted.

My conviction continues. If you are reading this... then I'm sure we are friends, maybe family... Can you remember the last time I told you that I love you? Have I ever?

So.. it comes to this.. the question echos again: Can a life be changed by a paragraph that I 'e-pen' here? By a sentence? A word?

Yes.

And that word is 'love'.

I love you.

Things I love...

2007-08-13T08:11:00.000-07:00

...about her.

• Her smile
• Her eyes
• Her voice
• Her own little language (i.e.: "Fiffernug", "Jean Ween" etc.)
• Her humor
• Her wit
• Her sense of style
• Her classy-ness
• She's a dreamer.
• She’s prone to extreme silliness.
• She’s honest and trustworthy and loyal.
• She has a bizarre sense of humor.
• She makes a good eggs.
• She’s cute.
• She puts up with me.
• She's going to be a FANTASTIC mom
• Her energy is infectious
• She's adventurous, seeking out new experiences.
• She's sexy AND smart.
• How she continues to fight for me, even when I neglect her
• Her unflagging curiosity about everything around her.
• She's a great cook.
• She's not afraid of speaking out even if it means going against the majority.
• How she questions things most people take for granted.
• She's not afraid of goofy fun.
• Her writing is from the heart. She may claim she's not a writer, but her blog entries have made me laugh out loud and also teary-eyed.
• Her positive attitude and humour through experiences many other people would be constantly whining about and using as a crutch. Instead, these experiences seem just to make her stronger.
• The way she helps friends find cool opportunities.
• She doesn't mince words, especially when she's pissed off about something. You always know where you stand with her. No mindgames, no emotional manipulation.
• She's a great listening ear, sympathetic but also objective. Doesn't let me get away with self-indulgent crap.
• She's intellectually and emotionally honest.
• She's gorgeous.
• She's a loyal friend and an amazing woman. I feel incredibly lucky to be her friend.
• She has what I believe to be the softest skin in the universe.
• She can dance
• She can sing too.. although she doesn't always get the lyrics right...
• She is extremely photogenic; she does not take a bad picture!
• Spending the day with her guarantees lots of laughter
• She never takes life for granted.
• She gets such a joy out of her family's joy.
• She looks comfortable and classy in anything, from a slinky formal dress to baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt.
• The fact that despite her crazy schedule, she still makes it a priority to find time for me.
• She could spend hours browsing the children's section of a bookstore.
• Her playfulness.
• The depth of caring she shows her friends and family.
• The fact that she loves me
• Her sweet face
• The fact that she let's the Dude sleep on the bed in the master bedroom when I'm not around.
• "You wanna snuggle one time some times?"
• "I love you a whole lot of bunches of oodles plus 2?"
• "You... you... you... wanna get meeearrrieeed?"
• Her family
• Her friends
• Her stories
• Her laugh
• Her love.
• Her commitment to God
• Her general outlook on life
• Her heart
• Her life
• Her warmth
• Two words: "Frit" "tata"
• How she's picked up MY own little language
• How she moves her hands when she talks
• The cute little dance she does when she thinks nobody is looking.....
• How God designed her specifically to mesh with me
• How God made her my wife (to be)
• How it doesn't matter how long we're apart, she'll write little cards for everyday that we're away from each other.
• The way she hugs me
• The way she kisses
• Her smell
• Her touch
• She does my laundry

I love every single thing about her. As the days get closer to our wedding, I started to realize that I'm just falling deeper and deeper in love with her. I can't wait until we are old and hardly functional, so that I could look back on my life and realize that I had the greatest life ever, and that people would have killed to have my life and to have what I have. To look back on my life and realize that there really is a God, and that he loves me and shows me daily how much he loves me by putting such an amazing, stunningly beautiful woman in my life.

God is good.

Sorry, sorry, sorry...

2007-08-08T06:57:00.000-07:00

...My sincerest apologies for the delay in writing a new post. Crazy busy I am.

Anyway... the quick run-down... all the flights home were good until we got stuck in Boston overnight. However because if it, I fulfilled a couple life-long dreams.

1.) Tour Boston.
Thats right... what's a dude to do in Boston for a day? That's right I walked around until I got tired and then took a trolley tour around town. Good times.

2.) Roll 1st class in an airplane.
Thats right... what's a dude to do after being stuck in Boston for a day? The nice lady gave us 1st class tickets because of getting stuck there. Good times.

I made it home, Laura picked me up. She was hot. We had lunch... a fantastic lunch might I add.

I went home a wrestled the Dude. Off to mom and dads for dinner later that night. Back home... it's good to be home.

S

I calmly lifted the deck in the air. Slowly. Very slowly.

2007-07-31T11:27:00.000-07:00

Saturday

I woke up too early this morning. Dougie B has a meeting with Edward at 11:30am this morning, and then we're headed to Pipeline for a Committee meeting at 1pm. So, really, I didn't need to wake up until like noon...

I had planned on waking up around 9ish, that way I would still be able to catch breakfast in the morning.

Well, I feel asleep with my TV on and at 9am CNN woke me up. I remember it being nine, because the guy on the news said it... so I jumped up, grabbed a shower, put on my nice, clean, hand-washed clothes (they do it right in A-Freak-ah!) and headed out the door for some brreeeakfast.

I ate a lot of fruit, some potatoes, and an egg... over easy. I then sat there for a little while waiting for Dougie B. What seemed like an hour went by quickly. I thought to myself "Dang, Dougie B sure is sleeping in! It's gotta be past 10am!"

So I opened the computer for two reasons:
1.) To try to post more pictures on the blog so that I could try to get caught up.
-and-
2.) To see the time.

I actually didn't look at the clock right away... I connected to the net and opened Firefox and notepad to type up a blog post.

After a few moments, I thought about Dougie B again... looked at the clock... it read: 12:48am. Now this clock is still set to Ft. Myers time, so that I know what time it is there. 12:48 Ft. Myers time is 7:48am here. SEVEN!! I freakin' woke up at seven!

Now I'm still tired, and know that I could've slept in for 2 more hours!

It's okay though... I'm not going to go to sleep tonight... I'm just going to stay up all night. That way, hopefully, I'll be able to sleep the 8 hours from here to Amsterdam!

My plan is to pass-out from here to Amsterdam (8 hours), relax during our layover (2.5 hours) then rely on Wal-Som (you know we ghetto fab) for the flight from Amsterdam to Boston (9.5 hours). We then have a THREE hour layover in Boston, where we'll be headed out to grab lunch in the city (if possible), and I'll just tough it out from Boston to Charlotte and from Charlotte to the Fort.

I know it's rather selfish, but I've been praying that God will give us A330 air busses from here to America... also that the seats next to me would be empty too... say a prayer, will ya!

Steve was right on time... as always. They say here that there are two times: Africa time and Steve time. "Africa time" is a 'show up whenever you feel like it' kind of time. You can set your clocks to "Steve time" he's NEVER late!

Anyway... off to Pipeline we went... it's not a really long drive to Pipeline from the guesthouse, but it's certainly not a short drive either...

It's a strange day here in Pipeline today. It's very warm, the sun is very high... the people seem to be really happy today. It's as if they don't realize that they live in the slums.

These are truly beautiful people!

We had a meeting... from 2pm - 6pm ... I WAS DYING!!

So, I did what I always do... I went outside to play with the kids. Steve says to never do this.... I have a rebellious streak.

These two girls in particular were just AWESOME! Sharon and Sheila. What amazing girls, both VERY educated. They walked up to me, and put there arms around me and said "Hey Slim!"

"Jambo," I replied "how are you girls doing today?"

"Mzuri sana, Slim." "Do you know what that means?"

"Of course! I've been learning a LOT of Swahili while I've been here!"

"Oh, that's good! We have a question?"

"Anything! Go 'head!"

"Do you have a family?"

Man, my gut wrenched.. how do I answer that? "Yes, yes I do. I have an amazing family and you have nothing?" I've been asked many questions before. Some of them were even difficult questions. In most cases, it was easy to answer... never did I think that one of the most difficult questions would come from the mouth of a 5th grade orphan!

"Yes I do. I have a Mama and Baba, a Ndungu, and 2 Dada's! They're awesome people!" I said.

"That's so good Slim! Do you have any kids?"

"No, not yet. I'd like to have kids though!"

"Slim?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think that when you have your kids, you can bring them here to see us, one day?"

I had to fight back the tears. My gut turned, my eyes hurt, and my throat became more dry than that of a pothead.

"Of course.. I would love for you to meet them!" I finally answered.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No." I replied, heading towards the 'fiance punchline'

"Well, when I'm older, I'll be your girlfriend!"

"Hahaha... that's very nice, but I'm actually engaged to an amazing woman back home. Her name is Laura."

"She must be very beautiful!"

"Oh, you have NO clue!"

"When do you get married?"

"In just 6 weeks! Can you believe it!?!"

"Wow! That's very good, Slim. I wish you the best of luck!"

"Asante sana" I replied.

"Slim?"

"::chuckling:: yes?"

"Can we ask you a question?"

"::chuckling continues:: Of course!!"

"When you get married, do you think that you can bring your wife here to meet us? We want to play with her and do her hair...?"

The tears finally came out... "Of course... she would love it here, and love to meet you!"

"Do you think that she would want to be our best friend?"

"She already is!" I exclaimed.

I got called back into the meeting at this point. I didn't want to stop talking with the pair, but it wasn't long before we were able to talk again.

"How much Swahili have you learned, Slim?"

"Not much." I replied as I rattled of the list of words that I knew.

"We'll be right back!!" the two shouted.

During this time, a small group of kids came to find me. Some of them had seen me doing magic for Steve and wanted to see some. I was surprised at this. Edward told me that the kids would be too scared of magic and think I was Satan. As "Satan" was not quite how I wanted to be perceived by the kids, I pretty much kept it to myself and adults.

I said no... "It's too scary for you!"

"Please, please, please, please!" they rang out.

So I ran through a couple card tricks. They were speechless. I then made a 1Ksh coin appear out of thin air. Then I made it disappear, and reappear behind a small child's ear.

They watched in amazement as the 1Ksh coin changed to a 5Ksh coin... RIGHT BEFORE THEIR EYES!

As if that wasn't enough, the 5Ksh magically doubled to a 10Ksh coin at the wave of my hand!

They were stunned!! "More, more, more!!!" they shouted in unison, like a well rehearsed choir "More!!" they cried.

"Okay. I'll show you ONE MORE. But you've gotta promise that you wont get scared!"

"We promise." they chimed again.

I didn't explain to them what I was about to do. I just asked a girl to pick a card, by her "own free will" of course *wink**wink*

She chose the Queen of Spades. I then instructed her to put the card back on the top of the deck. I flipped the card back over and told them to watch closely.

I calmly lifted the deck in the air. Slowly. Very slowly.

Their eyes were GLUED to the deck.

"Watch closely!" I said as I let the suspense build up.

"Do you see it?" I asked.

"Do you see it!?!"

They didn't know what they were looking for... as I hard not really started the trick.

"Concentrate." I instructed them.

"Concentrate hard!"

Slowly but surly, the card LIFTED itself right off of the deck! It float nearly 3 inches RIGHT OFF THE DECK!

At this, the kids SHRIEKED and BOLTED away from me as I laughed.

Soon the girls came back. Sheila handed me a folded up piece of paper and said "This should help you with your Swahili!" I opened the paper. It was Sheila's version of the Swahili crash course.

Sharon lifted out her hand and said "This is for Laura. I made it for her." as she handed me a necklace. "Tell her I love her and can't wait to meet her!" she whispered in my ear.

What amazing kids these are.

I'm very happy to be going home, but very sad to leave. Kenya, very quickly became my home away from home.

We left there... headed back to the guesthouse to handle some business, and then dipped to the Java House for dinner.

It was good, as usual.

Taxied back to the guesthouse for some MUCH needed sleep.

I'm heading home on the 28 hour traveling journey. Goo.

S

I had the stir-fry Lamb and Almonds again...

2007-07-28T02:39:00.001-07:00

Friday

Another kind of uneventful day.

I woke up... I ate breakfast... Steve picked us up.

We went down David Diamonds hotel to pick up some stuff that he left here for us. Some pens, some candy for the kids and such.

We when headed to Pipeline to meet with Pastor George real quick. He's doing a funeral today of one of the boys in his church, second one in two weeks. Crazy! We needed to take pictures of his "orphanage" to send to Dave to get his advice on how to build it up bigger and stronger.

Surprisingly, our brief meeting was actually brief for once.

We left there and went o the Village Market. This is in a SUPER upscale part of town, where are the people from the Embassies live. Lot's of white people... rich white people...

The Village Market is basically a mall. I really wasn't interested in the place, but we went there to try to meet up with Bobby Pall. Bobby is a mucho world-renowned photographer. He's the guy who made the book that my mom has.

He's world class... fantastic... and an AWESOME guy. Him and I really clicked, I think more-so than anyone else on this trip. He's a very encouraging guy, a very smart guy, and just an all around talented guy. It was good meeting him... I should've got a picture of him though!

Anyway... we met over Coke Lights at the place across the street from his studio. We talked about the project and how it's going and such. I told him of my lack of shots showing real need. See, everywhere we shot was like orphanages and such, where the kids were being well-fed and happy, so most of the shots I been able to get have all been of bright, smiling kids!

He told me that he would flip through his archive and pull out some good shots and put them on disc for me.

We decided to meet back up for dinner. Siam Thai it was!

We met up with Bobby at Siam Thai, I had the stir-fry Lamb and Almonds again. Just amazing!

After a good dinner, Bobby took us back to the AACC guesthouse for some sleep.

I got to talk to Laura again, over the Internet (man, I miss her voice!) and post some things and such...

Off to bed I went to get ready for my last FULL day in A-Freak-ah.

See youse guyses tomorrow!

S

"Does THAT hurt!?!"

2007-07-27T22:53:00.000-07:00

Thursday

It is 12:43am your time, 7:43am "my" time. I'm so tired. I haven't really slept the last two nights, on account of my leg hurting so badly. It's pretty discolored now, and swollen. It still just feels like a really bad bruise. I'll hope so anyway.

We had an earlier start today.. just by one hour. Steve arrived at 8am sharp with Patrick and his mother (Mama) Anna.

Now here's the deal with Anna, she is the mother of 4 children. She lives in a small 10'x10' house. If you count it, that's 5 people in the house... each one getting 20sq ft. Seems like a nightmare, huh? Well, I suppose that now would be a good time to tell you that Anna has also taken in 6, yes SIX orphaned relatives of hers. Cousins, nephews, nieces, etc... that's ELEVEN PEOPLE in a 100sq ft house. Let's redo the math, shall we? 100sq ft / 11 people = 9.. 9sq ft. to live in. Can you imagine that?

Anyway... we brought Anna and Patrick some food, as we were sure that they were starving. And headed up to Kijabe which is way up in the mountains a little. In fact, the road parallels with the Great Rift Valley. Now, I'll tell you what... you've never seen anything until you see the Great Rift Valley. It stretches over most of Africa. In fact, here in Nairobi on the way to Kijabe it reaches it's highest altitude ... over 8,000ft high!!

I just couldn't help but take in the scenery. Such a beautiful sight! Everything around was all farm land. So you would see people living in a way that I would've imagined that God intended. Just living off of the land, making all of their own clothes. Raising their own cattle to eat and get milk from... it was amazing. I can't begin to describe the beauty! I wish that I could've taken pictures... just very hard to get good ones from inside a moving Safari Truck... know what I mean?

We continued up the road making small talk with Patrick and his mother.

On the way there, we were stopped by THREE police road blocks in a row. It's very weird here... they'll just stop you for no reason, most of the time. They'll want to randomly search you and your passengers. Or randomly run your plates... or in Steve's case, randomly mess with you.

During the second police stop, one officer came to Steve's window and pulled out his gun, told him that he was under arrest and to get out of the car. The second officer then pulled out HIS gun and came to MY window! Now, I would not have been afraid had I not known that in this country Police, Admin. Police, and the Army can shoot you anytime they want, without any reason. "For real!?!" I thought.

Steve asked the officer "For what am I being arrested for? I've done nothing wrong!" the officer looked at him and said "Okay, you can go."

SAY WHAT!?!?!?!?!

"Did anyone else see what happened!" I though... so yeah... turns out here... the police get so bored that they'll pull you over and tell you that you're under arrest just to see your reaction. If you're calm, like Steve, they'll just let you go... if you freak out you're probably headed for a bullet...

Another fun fact, police don't move around in cars... well, some of them do, but most don't. Therefore, if a cop stops you and tells you to drive him somewhere, YOU MUST. It doesn't matter if you're late for an appointment and he's going the opposite direction. It doesn't matter if he wants you to drive him to Japan, YOU MUST. If you try to speed off, he will shoot you tires out. If you try to speed off and you're too slow, he'll just shoot you! Crazy!

So, anyway, after a couple of scares we were back on our way.

We reached the CURE International Hospital.

This facility was AMAZING. It was immaculate, and very well built. It's an American run hospital for children. It's also located on the property with the local hospital (the good hospital.) Sadly, this hospital is so far away from the city and the slums.

We got Patrick in to see Dr. Joseph Thuri, however he was in surgery and was evidently going to be a while. So, we showed Patrick's leg to another Dr. there... his jaw immediately hit the floor!

He literally ran to get Dr. Thuri, who came rushing back to look at it. He told us that these were deformative growths on his leg (2 of them) and that he also had about 4 more across his body. He got him all checked out, and set a date for Patrick's surgeries.

We decided to go ahead and pay for Patrick's surgeries... we planned on them being a few thousand dollars... we were surprised by the total. Two. Well, just over two. $230 to be precise.

For real? $230 could fix this boy? Amazing.

After that, we had the good Dr. check my leg... "Take your pants off." He says "Dr. Thuri, don't you think you should AT LEAST take me to dinner first!?!" I replied... yeah... evidently he didn't get the joke. He stood there confused... so I just dropped trou.

He looked at the swollen, discolored craziness and said "How in the world did that happen!?!" I explained the story to him... he laughed... a lot.

He then started pushing the spot over and over again, which was truly excruciating! He would push it hard and go "Does that hurt?" I felt like punching him in the neck and going "Does THAT hurt!?! Booyah!!" ... "Yes, it hurts badly Dr.!" I replied.

He had me on my back, bending my leg all sorts of ways saying "That hurt?" "Yes, yes... a thousand times yes!"

"Fracture!" he exclaimed. Now to really appreciate it, you need to re-read that word, but really roll the 'r' to get the dialect going... it was more like "Frrrrrrrracture!"

"What do you mean, frrrrrracture!?!" I said, "It's just a bruise!"

"Nope. It's a fracture."

"Well, what am I supposed to do?"

"It's not very bad, yet. Just take it easy for the next month. No running or jumping."

Now it was my turn to laugh... right in his face!! No running OR jumping? Shucks!! I was really hoping that I would get to run and jump... oh well...

So yeah... now my left femur is fractured do to a faulty piece of wood on a wooden bridge. I would also like to sate, for the record, that the breaking of said wood had nothing to do with my shear size and stature. I'm not fat. I'm fluffy.

The board broke on its own accord due to it's inherent weakness.

So, yeah... gonna take it easy for the next month or so.

Anyway... we left there... headed for Kibera to drop Patrick and Anna off.

Luckily, we didn't get hit by any police check points on the way back.

We got into Kibera, and headed towards their "house". We let them out, but Anna wanted us to see her house. She's very proud of it. We walked a short ways up the street and found her place. A small room... ten feet by ten feet. She used newspaper as wallpaper.... it was plastered all around the walls, with a HUGE picture of Jesus hanging up in the center. Some clean pots hung on the wall. There were three beds, they were all maid up properly. The floor was spotless. She truly kept her house EXCEPTIONALLY clean!

We walked back outside and met some of her kids and orphans. I was able to snap a picture of the ones that were there. Most were out though.

It was very sad. As we drove away I couldn't help but think over and over again.. that these people have nothing, and in Anna's case she has lived outside of Kibera. She knows of a life outside of the slums. Yet she's happy and thankful for God's blessings. Man, I suck at life!

We headed from there to "Saints Alive Church" near Pipeline. This is Edward's church. He is the youth pastor there. But I think that "youth pastor" here means "Children's Pastor" back in the states.

This was actually a very nice church (considering the circumstances.) It was a big church, on a big piece of land. Big stage with a sound system. It was nice. This church was actually where Pastor Amos got married.

They had a separate building called the "Saints Alive Youth Church" where the youth were... (a bunch of preschoolers during nap time.. haha) also a very nice facility!

They had a RIDICULOUSLY long meeting with the people from Action Kenya Now, a micro-lending company. I was so bored, so I went outside to take pictures of the chickenses, and these kids:

I went back in to find Amos sleeping on the couch, in the middle of the meeting!! Haha... how punk rock!

He woke up and took me to the sanctuary to film the women's group meeting in there. I literally took maybe 25 seconds of footage and maybe 3 pictures... there was nothing going on in there....

So Amos and I just sat up on the stage talking about our wives, and wife-to-be's... Talking about how/where we met, how long we "courted" before getting engaged and such. He then asked if we wanted kids... I felt like punching him in the neck and saying "Does that hurt!?!" however this didn't quite seem relevant anymore.

I told him yes... we'd like to have 3. If we can, have two and adopt the third. He thought that was awesome. "How long are you going to wait?" he asked "Dude, we're just trying to make it to the wedding... ask me in a couple months!" I responded... so I asked out long they waited. Funny story... he went on to tell me that they got married on November 5th, and their daughter was born on August 5th... EXACTLY nine months later... haha...

He said "We wasted not one second!" haha... good times.

The lame, boring meeting was finally over. We headed out.

Steve dropped us off at the Nairobi Java House for some American food, and we taxied back to the guesthouse.

I was able to post a little bit and have a good conversation with my sweet babe.

Then I took me and my frrrrrractured leg to bed.

I'm not sure what is on the agenda for tomorrow, but I would imagine that whatever we're doing tomorrow is what I'll be doing.

Okaybye....

S

p.s.- Most of Africa is MANY years behind us in many ways... evidently they still haven't heard about two-ply toilet paper yet... when I come back, I'll open their eyes...

::GASP!!::

2007-07-27T12:18:00.000-07:00

Wednesday

Hmmmm... what can be said of today?

I didn't really sleep last night. My leg hurt so badly... some of the worst pain I've ever felt. It's also quite swollen. No matter how I laid in the bed, I just couldn't get comfortable. So needless-to-say, I'm pretty tired. My leg hurts, and evidently when I had my right leg twisted up beneath me, I hurt my ankle somehow but didn't feel it until 3am.

Steve and Dougie B seem to think that I may have fractured my leg.

Not that I know anything about medicine, or the human body, but I doubt that it's fractured. I think it's just really bruised.

Lucky for me, we are taking a boy from the slums to a Dr. tomorrow to look at his leg. Evidently he broke it a little while back, but couldn't get it looked at, so he just had to "cast" it himself. Well, the bone seems to have healed, but there is this massive, oozing inflammation that he's had for a couple months. He showed it to us and we knew we had to get it taken care of, or he'd lose his leg!

Dougie B evidently has a contact with CURE and helped them to build a hospital in Cambodia, and the guy running CURE was all "If you ever need ANYTHING let me know!"

So Dougie B sent him an e-mail to get advice. The guy responded saying that there is a CURE hospital not too far from Nairobi, and to bring the boy in Thursday morning. How's that for God working quickly in this boy's (and ours) life!

While we're there with him, I'm going to have the Dr. just check my leg out and make sure that it's nothing serious.

Anyway...

We had a meeting at 10am with a company called Gitithia. Gitithia does micro-lending. This meeting was very long, and on account of it being in a office with no electricity, I couldn't film at all due to lack of light.

After that, we had a meeting at 1pm with C.H.E.S.S. (Christian Entrepreneurs Sacco, I don't really know what it means, nor do I know how they got "chess" out of it...) C.H.E.S.S. is a micro -lending company also. Again, very long and very boring. The light was better here... but at this point there was only 3 people in the meeting and the room looked like crap.. so I didn't film it.

Hmmm... back to the guesthouse to drop Martin off. Martin is from Partners Worldwide, yet another micro-lending firm.

Off to Trattoria for lunch with Dougie B. They were very busy and slow... this made Dougie B mad >: [ So today, for the first time, the waiter was not tipped ::gasp!::

Kinda funny really...

Back to the guesthouse to catch up on some writing, hoping that the Internet was up to send a couple e-mails and post on the blog... no luck... but it's only 6:30pm here (11:30am there) so maybe there's still hope for the net!

I love you guys... and so does Africa...

How about everyone I know move to Africa with me? That way I could stay here and still have all my friends and family?

S

p.s. today sucked, okaybye.

Should I take this as a sign?

2007-07-27T06:59:00.000-07:00

Tuesday

We had a few things planned for today, however one of the appointments was postponed for a day. We were going to take the day off to see the city on Wednesday, but because of the postponing, we just decided to push everything back a day and do our site-seeing today.

I wasn't sure what that was going to look like, or what we were going to do. We decided to start off with a drive through town, headed to the world famous "Giraffe Centre". The Giraffe Centre was established in by some British guy who wanted to save the endangered Giraffe population in Kenya.

It was a neat place. They had a really knowledgeable staff, a clean place, and Giraffeses. Samuel lead us on this tour.

Samuel with a Giraffe's jaw...

Samuel with a Giraffe's leg. Allegedly a kick from a Giraffe can instantly kill a lion.

I kept putting the food pellets in front of my camera lens to try to get them to out it off of the lens... no luck.

On our way out, I ran into a group of tortoises... I gave them all names... but I already forgot 'em.

Also, we learned that occasionally warthogs come from the area to eat the food there, but are definitely unwanted guests at the centre. Evidently their not easy to find there at the centre. Only the lucky few get to see them... booyah:

We left there to the "Birds Paradise Shop" near Karin, where the movie "Out of Africa" was filmed to check out a Maasi owned souvenir shop. Things here are more expensive than I thought they would be, but still relatively cheap.

As we pulled up, two Maasi Warriors jumped in front of our truck. "Freakin' A!" I thought "I'm gonna get killed by two small Maasi! How lame! I'm supposed to go out BIG!" I continued..

Evidently I was right... I am to go out big, since the Maasi just wanted to do their mating dance for us. I'm not sure why, as we're all dudes... what a fruity tribe!

Anywhose... the Maasi traditionally stand in a line and jump as high as they can, which is actually VERY high. Traditionally, this is how the women pick the men to marry. Whoever jumps the highest gets the wife. Good thing we don't have to do that here... I would've NEVER got Laura then!

I dipped inside to check things out. They had a TON of awesome stuff... I found so much stuff that I wanted to get for everyone... but sadly couldn't really afford anything. I picked up a special prize for my sweet babe and headed back outside.

Steve and Dougie B were out talking with the warriors and such outside. I wanted to take more pictures possibly some video... Cost me 500 Kshs, but I finally got the pictures and video of the Maasi that I wanted to get!

From there, we headed to the Safari Walk... it's like going on a safari, except it's all enclosed in a park and you walk around it. So really it's like "Jurassic Park" but without the cars, dinosaurs, and Samuel L. Jackson. This place was GREAT! The weather was just perfect for our adventure! This will be a place that I take Laura for sure!

So, we were met by Salome, a student in Kenya who spends her summer break volunteering at the Safari Walk. This girl was awesome! Very sweet girl who was very knowledgeable and put up with my non-sense the whole time.

We started by checking out the Pygmy Hippos, some monkeys, zebra, ostrich and white rhino. It's weird, most of these I could reach out an touch. Very close up... very fun!

They have a leopard there, but it was way up in a tree, and I couldn't get close enough with either camera. Shucks.

We moved on to the lions... two females and a male. One was named Nala... I told them they were crooks and owed Disney some money... they didn't get it. We next saw some of the natural habitats... and in one spot, there were baboons! They evidently come from Nairobi National Park to the watering whole in the Walk... I couldn't get stills of the mother baboon with her baby, but I was able to get it on film. I'll have to show you sometime.

I saw this incredible spot of landscape that I thought would be AWESOME on the video so I went straight away to get it!

Now something rather expected happened next.

See, Salome was awesome! Not just as a tour guide, but as someone that was able to point out all of the weak, cracked boards along the way... well... she missed one... I found it.

As I stepped to take the film, I heard a loud crack and the next thing I knew, I was in INCREDIBLE pain! My left leg felt as if it was on fire! My leg was through the wood all the way up to my groinal region, and my right leg was twisted up under my body. Surprisingly, I was more worried about my flip-flop falling off than I was about whether or not I was injured!

I pulled myself up out of the whole, and struggled to stand up. Man, was I in pain!

This wouldn't have been quite so bad, if it weren't for the fact that the big long walk in Kibera hadn't made my right leg so sore! Now I could barely walk!

I made my way to a bench and sat for a minute... to relax for a moment. I looked down and there was a small amount of blood dripping down my leg... merely a flesh wound. Salome was so upset and just couldn't stop apologizing. "Hakuna Matata!" I exclaimed... No worries!

It took me a few minutes to get back onto my feet, but I eventually did. I had to take a picture of the whole that got me good in Africa.

We (painfully) finished the tour with some other animals that I didn't care so much about... and headed out.

We drove to downtown Nairobi for the first time. INSANE!! So many people and police and administrative police... lots of guns... cars... crazy!!

We spent some time there, just driving around seeing the sites down town. There were some really HUGE buildings there... this is where the rich people work.

It was getting late and we were all starved, so off we went to "Saim-Thai" for some Thai food. I had never eaten Thai food before. Dougie B said it was just like Chinese... I'm not sure what Chinese food he's been eating.. but it's not the same as me for sure!

I ordered a Lamb stir-fry, extra-hot.. OUT -OF-THIS-WORLD!! It was so good. I've got to find a Thai place when I get home! There was an escalator going up to the restaurant, however only stairs going back down... I couldn't seem to get either leg to work as I headed down them...

Back home we went to check the mail and go to sleep. So yeah... going to bed.

I can't wait to snuggle youse guyses sometimes one time!!

Amani,
S

...completely unrecognizable as French toast...

2007-07-26T22:11:00.000-07:00

Monday

Today started off as usual: wake up at 7am, breakfast at 8, picked-up at 9am.

They had French toast in the restaurant this morning. As far as French toast goes, it was the worst that I've ever had... completely unrecognizable as French toast. They would've done better if they'd told me that it was some traditional African dish... because it tasted AMAZING... just nothing like French toast. Very similar to the Fettucine Alfredo at Trattoria.

Dougie B, as usual, had toast. He's so scared of African food that he wont even eat at the guesthouse. Just toast and jelly. Luckily for him, I don't have the heart to tell him where the jelly comes from....

ANYWAY... Steve was right on time, as always, ready for another exciting day in the Kibera slum.

Today was probably the best day there. The sun was shining, so it wasn't as cold. Plus it was bright outside... gives the village an entirely different look and feel!

As we drove through the street, headed toward the NCOC, I didn't feel well... not like a 'not feel well' sick, but something different. I kept feeling that something big was about to happen. Naturally I assumed that since we chose not to bring escorts today, that today was gonna be the day I proverbially bit the proverbial dust by the hand of an American-hating Kiberan.

Obviously, I didn't die... Good times.

Something pretty huge did happen though... I'll explain more later.

We met Amos at the NCOC to watch the kids at the NCOC Academy for a moment before heading to see Pastor Jane at "Wings of Life Gospel Center" to film their school.

Again these pictures simply do no justice to what it's like in this school. It's partitioned into 3 sections. The first section, just slightly bigger than 10'x10' housed 30 kids... the next section was just slightly bigger than the first, housing 60 kids!!! The last section defied the laws of physics... NINETY orphans in a room no bigger than 10'x15'!

As we walked into the room, I heard a couple kids shout "ESlim! ESlim!" soon after the rest of the school did, although I'm sure that the teachers were not too happy about it!

I got a ton of film in there, but it was very hard on account of there being no lights.. just a couple "windows." Pastor Jane then took me to their 'kitchen', "Huh." I accidentally let out...

One room littered with tables and "spare parts" was the kitchen. No electricity, just two small fire pits to cook food in. It just didn't make sense!

From there we headed back to the NCOC to have a pastors meeting with all of the pastors in Kibera. They work very closely together to reach every man, woman and child in Kibera. Perhaps we can learn a lesson from them...

Just after that, the feeding program began. The feeding program was set-up about a year ago by Help the Least of These through the NCOC. They of course feed the children in the Academy, but they also feed other kids in the community. Like this boy, Moses:

It is a very good thing that they are doing. Most, if not all of these kids will only get one meal, the meal that they receive at school. And of course, they go hungry Saturday and Sunday! The looks on the faces of these kids was astonishing. Belly's full, healthy, happy... it was beautiful. It was in this time that God started to do the huge thing that I spoke of earlier.

I just looked at Moses (above) wearing a ratty, tattered, torn, dingy, smelly, filthy, nasty (should I keep going?) 101 Dalmations Sweater, with dirt and crap (literally) all over his face and hands. I watched as he filled his spoon so full of food that he couldn't fit it in his mouth. He went to eat it and of course most of it spilled down his clothes onto the floor. He then licked the food off of his clothes, and picked the rice and beans up off the floor and preceded to eat that as well.

How could this child be THAT hungry!

He had a cup of water sitting next to him. He would take a sip and smile at me. I boy of very few words, he only spoke really when I spoke to him. "Jinlako ni nani?" (What is your name?) I said to him... "Jinlango Moses." he replied. "Do you know what's on your sweater?" I asked... "Mbwa!" he replied. "Ndio, (yes)" I responded back "but do you know who they are? They're from 101 Dalmations!"

He looked so confused. He obviously had never seen it.

I looked at his legs.. they were so bruised and scarred. Then down to his feet. He wore a pair of torn-up Chuck Taylor's, with a pieces of yarn for laces. They were about 2 sizes too small and had the soles falling right off of them.

I watched as he just sat there. Swinging his legs back and forth. Filling his mouth to overflowing with food. Swinging his legs back and forth. Filling his mouth again. Swinging his legs back and forth. Drinking from his cup and smiling at me.

I watched as I saw the face of God in a 9 year old boy with torn clothes and tiny Chuck Taylor's. Suddenly I was unable to see. It was as if the whole world vanished behind my tears. I cried. I wept.

What did this boy have to be happy about? Both of his parents are dead. He has no home, no food, and is HIV Positive. He's never seen the world outside of Kibera, and truly has NO future. How could he possibly be happy?

What did he have!!

God.

He has faith in God.

I cried even harder. What do I have to NOT be happy about? My family is alive. I have a home, food, and am quite healthy. I've seen the world outside of the slums and have a job with a promising future.

What didn't I have!!

God.

I had no faith in God.

Despite never being hungry, despite being able to pay bills, despite being in love with an AMAZING woman, despite having a family, despite having a punk-rock dog, despite having EVERYTHING in the world, I was still unhappy.

I started to pray to God, for the first time in a while. I mean I started to really pray.

It seemed in that instant that my life had suddenly turned around. Like it did a couple years ago. "Did it really have to resort to this?" I couldn't help but think.

Evidently so. All of the educated people I know, all the wise people I know, all the Pastors that I know could have never taught me what this little boy did. Are they all missing something too?

I've been trying to keep myself from saying that I want to live here. Because sadly, I do. To be quite honest, if Laura was here with me, I'd never go back.

It's easy to talk about how bad the living conditions are here, but what I have neglected to mention was just how present God is here. He is everywhere... moving.. stirring... ready to take over this nation. I want to be in that.

What will I have to do to have that back in America? As I thought this, the words on this blog finally rang true "One man's journey... to change the world." How does one change the world?

I don't know.

But I think it goes something like this: I need to put God above EVERYTHING that I do. Above Laura, my family, my friends and my job. But as I make sure that He is above all those, I need to make sure that God is IN those. I need to make sure that when people see me... no matter how torn or tattered I may be... they see the face of God.

What does that look like for me? I'm not sure. I will strive to work hard on this. But I can't do it alone. I think that I've proved over and over again that I can't do it. I'm not asking for people to do it for me... I'm asking for accountability. I've asked for the this many times from many REALLY close friends over the last 6 months. I've not received it. This will need to change.

I need to truly chase after and fight for the hearts of every man, woman and child in my area. Because as I do this, hopefully God will transform those lives as well. This guy reaches that guy, this woman reaches that woman, this boy reaches that boy, this girl reaches that girl and suddenly the world is changed. The whole world takes care of the widow and the orphan. The whole world becomes equal. The whole world rejoices and praises God, the only one worthy of praise. My journey complete?

I pray that I will one day see my journey complete... highly unlikely though in my lifetime.

Will it happen?

I think of a world not too long ago, where only 12 young men had a relationship with a guy named Jesus. I think of how they were just like me: young, stupid and weak. Yet they decided to answer a call, live a life reflective of Jesus, and reach everyone they could. People thought they were crazy, they thought they were wasting their time. But as they reached people, those people reached out... This guy reaches that guy, this woman reaches that woman, this boy reaches that boy, this girl reaches that girl and suddenly the world is changed.

I, myself, am I byproduct of their will and determination. Who's next?

Anyway... I've strayed from the story...

After sitting with the Moses, the children were ready to put on a 'show' for us. They got on the stage and said their ABC's, counted for us, sang songs (in English), and just had a good time preforming for us.

Cute... very cute...

I interviewed a couple kids from the soccer league, and then let this rap group spit "freestyle" on camera. Evidently they think that if you're video taped, you can make it in America. Funny. I've been video taped THOUSANDS of times... what does that make me?

I then sat with Nicholas, the church guitar player, to teach him about 'keys'. He only knew of one, 'C', and hey played it in EVERY song, regardless of what key the keyboard player was playing. By the end of the hour he understood it and was able to play right away with the key player. Fantastic!

We were leaving Kibera now... probably for the rest of the trip. They all knew we were leaving for a long time.

Three days in Kibera, the most beautiful place on earth.

I wish I had spent more time there. I wish that I had made and impact on the village. I started to tear up. I wanted to do more! I wanted to touch the lives of the people there.

"ESlim! ESlim! Mwebamba! Mwebamba!" I heard from behind me. I turned around and here runs a handful of orphans... STRAIGHT FOR ME! They hit me with such a force that I instantly fell to the ground. They jumped on me hugging every part of my body from every possible angle! "I love you! I love you! I love you!" they rang out in unison, in the style of their famous "How are you! chants.

Had I underestimated myself? More importantly, had I underestimated God?

I fought the fiffers off of me and headed down the way and ran into Dickens who grabbed my hand pull me in and said "I want do a collab wit you!" haha...

I walked passed a shop, and a woman yells: "Mwebamba!!!" I turn around to see this cute young girl running a vegetable stand. "You shake my hand?" she says. "I'll do better," I reply "come here!" I rapped my arms around the girl and squeezed here tightly. She immediately jumped around.. excited... she got to HUG the Mwebamba!

God is good.

S

That's how I rolls! GANGSTAH!!

2007-07-25T09:32:00.001-07:00

Sunday.

I slept like a champ last night. Which was good, since I didn't sleep the night before. I had my wake-up call set for 7am so that I would have time to eat some breakfast before heading out on our longest day yet.

It was pretty good, actually. The food here has simply been amazing! I can't wait to bring Laura to the most beautiful country that I've ever seen!

Anyway, Steve picked us up to get an armed escort and head back to Kibera. Luckily, our transport didn't skip out... as a matter of fact, we got TWO! George and Martin.

We arrived at Kibera for a worship service at the NCOC. I was very surprised up on our arrival. You see, they didn't explain to me that there aren't that many people in Kibera during the week, since a lot are at jobs in the city. I thought that yesterday was packed... boy was I wrong! There were AT LEAST 3 times the amount of people there! NUTS!

Not only were there a lot of people there... there were a lot of DRUNK people there!

Here, they brew kind of a homemade alcohol, called "Kumi Kumi." I'm not sure who introduced it to them, or how much it costs to make, but I do know that it's as strong as moonshine... maybe stronger!

We were driving up the main road in Kibera when I rather large man refused to move out of the road, since the truck was carrying white people. He then started stomping on and kicking the truck. He was not aware that there were two VERY LARGE, VERY ARMED soldiers in the truck with us....

He quickly found out..

Here's where I felt scared for the first time here.

Within an instant, George and Martin were out of the truck. Martin walked up to the drunk man and punched him in the head. Shortly there after, George grabbed the man and threw him in to the drainage system (for bodily waste) that runs through the street. They begin to kick his legs. I felt really bad for the drunk man.

George then held the mans leg as Martin broke it. My gut DROPPED! Steve then started to drive, saying "You don't need to see of this!" As we drove away, shots were fired.

I'm not sure if they shot in the air, at the man, or actually shot HIM... it was crazy.

Just after that, as we were driving further down the road there was a man on the side of the road with a few people standing around him. I thought that he was just a beggar. Come to find out, he was murdered last night and left in the street.

Just after THAT, we watched as four men carried a woman down the road. I'm not sure if she was dead or if she was sick or what. I would imagine that she was just sick, since they were running down the road with her.

Either way, probably more orphaned children now...

After seeing those three things, right in a row, I really wasn't too interested in getting out of the truck without our guards. But I said a little prayer, and headed out. Luckily, God brought me safely to the church, or 'chach' as they call it here... it's not Swahili, it's just bad English.

They told me that they have one service on Sunday's.. "Sweet." I thought to myself. However, they neglected to tell me that the service starts at 9am and ends around 2pm, usually. "Huh..." I then thought.

The service was UNREAL! I'm not really going to try to describe it in great detail, as no matter what I could say would do it any sort of justice. They just sang, and sang, and sang.... and whistled, and whistled, and whistled... and shrieked, and shrieked, and shrieked, for what seemed like forever. Just total abandonment! It was amazing.

I'm not exactly sure when, but towards the middle of the service Steve and Dougie B left to pick up David Diamond and his friend Sheila, from California. They returned with the pair during an amazing prayer time.

After the service was over, we went outside to speak with the people there. Mostly widows and orphans. I had a lot of really encouraging talks with some of the people there. In light of having nothing, they're all so full of joy for the things that they have. In just a couple days I've learned so much about humility and being thankful for the things that I have.

"God, I'm sorry for the things that I take for granted. Things that you've graciously given to me. Give me a spirit of humility. A spirit of thankfulness. A spirit of mercy and of grace."

We left the NCOC and headed on foot to the football (soccer) field. I thought to myself "Hakuna Matata," (that's right... it's not just a clever Disney song... it's a HUGE part of the African culture) "it shouldn't be that long of a walk.."

Yeah... right...

Try close to a mile... on a nonexistent road. A very small path that went through the "back-streets" of Kibera and was very rocky and uneven. I can't really explain what it was like to walk on that road... very difficult. Half of it was down-hill, which wasn't so bad, however the rest was all up-hill, rather steep at some points.

Here are some of the scenes along the way... evidently I was obsessed with something:

We finally made it to the top of the city. It's hard to tell from the picture just how big Kibera is, but this is what the city looks like from the outside.

I met a really cool local named Dickens. He's a musician. Trying to make it as a rapper, which as you may image is next to impossible to do in Kibera. We talked for a long while. He's quite educated, very well spoken, and incredibly talented. I'm not sure why he's stuck there in the slums.

Dickens makes some really cool jewelry that I hope to get my hands on before I leave. I know that Kelsey and Haley would LOVE them... and to be honest, I wouldn't mind some either! I've just gotta get him to make some "mkubwa" size... haha.

Anyway... we're at the top of the hill (in Maasai it's called a "Ngong", however the "N" is silent...) and played soccer with the kids. Boy can they run! Their speed, power, and endurance is unearthly!

The NCOC started up a small league there for the youth of Kibera. There are two captains and two teams. It's not really big yet, as you can see from this group photo,but they are growing very well!

They play really hard... and so far, it's really been the only place that I've seen them really happy.

I just wish that somebody else would've had a camera with them... y'all probably would've laughed if you saw a picture of Mwebamba playing soccer with these kids.

They were so honored and appreciative that we took the time to watch and cheer them on!

Anyway... back to the Security Office - Kibera Division to drop George and Martin off. They told me that I was "all right" and that I was welcome in their country whenever I want. Which was a pretty big honor, as Martin (the leg-breaker) didn't care much for white people... especially Americans!

They also let me get a picture.. finaly Martin relaxed and smiled, but then George put his serious face one!

From there we dropped Dave and Sheila off at their hotel (they're staying at this wicked nice place in the city) and we were off to the Guesthouse at around 5:30pm for a shower and some writing. (I would've rather posted... but, as usual, the net is down... again...)

A nap would've been nice as well, however Steve was right back at 6:30 to drive the 4 of us to Trattoria again. Food was amazing... again. I'm not sure if Dave really knows how much things are there. When we told him that tip was optional, and we've been giving tips every time, he tipped our waiter like 30usd .. which is almost 4500ksh ... a HUGE some of money!

Oh well... our waiter was super happy, and VERY appreciative.

I love the culture here... I love the people here... I love the land here... Even the ground, the trees and the sky seem to welcome you here. I asked Steve if people treated us so well because we're Americans, and he told me "no." "It is like this all of the time." I believe him. This is an amazing place, and this has been an amazing adventure! I miss, very much, my wife (to be), my dog, my family, and my friends, so I'm MORE THAN anxious to come home... however, I'm going to be a little sad to leave.

I pray that I will get the chance to come back here soon, and to take Laura as well. There are already great tales of "Jua" floating around the city.

It's just past midnight (local) and I'm kind of wrecked. Although we were only out from 9am-5:30pm, we got a lot done in that time. I'm still jet-lagged, and it's still hard to sleep... so I will try my hardest to crash right now.

We're back out at 9am tomorrow to spend our last day in Kibera. We're going to film the school in Kibera in the morning and then the feeding program in the afternoon. Another short, but packed day!

I love you ... (especially YOU!)

S

Sneak Peack into Monday's post:
**Stay tuned to find out how this little boy changed my life forever!

I'll make it up one day...

2007-07-23T10:34:00.000-07:00

Saturday

I didn't sleep last night. I finally fell asleep about an hour before my wake up call came.

I kept flipping through the pages of this book that Doug has of Kibera.

What was I going to see? What was I going to do? What would be waiting for me there?

Obviously, I would not be prepared for ANYTHING that I would see there. I'm not sure what the actual definition of "slum" is as the internet is down again at the AACC... But whatever the definition is, it certainly can not do it justice. The pictures, the videos, the stories... nothing do it justice. This is just one of the those things that you must see to believe.

Steve and Edward picked us up this morning, right on time (as always) and we set off to go the bank (to change some money in) and to pay our armed escort. Now before I go on... remember when I said that there was a LOT of corruption here?

I'll give you two guesses who didn't show up to escort us through Kibera.....

Anyway... we ran our errands and headed off to Kibera to meet up with Amos and Dalmas who were waiting at the church. Dalmas is an incredibly smart, educated man who has a total heart for the people of Kibera.

So, we start to drive through the slum. Everywhere you look there are these small shops/houses made of clay. I actually watched a man working on one. They use sticks and branches from trees as re-bar, then pat mud and clay onto the sticks and let it dry. Cover the roof with a sheet of aluminum and leave the floor uncovered and you've got yourself a nice little structure on the land.

You're so busy looking at all the people.. a lot of them crippled, begging for money, that you don't notice the smell. Not until you look on the side of the road (which is one American lane wide) to see the piles and PILES of trash that you realize it smells eerily like a port-a-potty on a busy construction site. Just fowl.

Here is the road that they walk on (a lot of them barefoot everyday.) It's COVERED with trash, burning trash, and poopie. Simply disgusting:

I happened to have my window down, and most everyone that we passed would speak. The woman would say: "Jambo", Swahili for "Hallo" (as they say it) or "How are you" (they're used the same here), the men would say: "Karibu" which means "Welcome", and the children would run around saying (in unison) "How are you" over and over again. It went something like this: How are you? How are you? How are you? How are you? How are you?

Get the picture?

We finally pulled over, and got out of the truck. Now, let me remind you that our AK-47 wielding escort did not show up. I put my leg out of the truck and set it on the ground... into a pile of dookie. Human? Animal? I'll never know.

As soon as both feet touched the ground, the truck was rushed by people who started grabbing all of our bags, including my gear! I thought "For real? Is Wayne Brady gonna hafta..." well, you know the rest...

The guys laughed at the panic on my face. See, these people were so excited about me being there that they wanted to have the honor of carrying my gear. Crazy! They would run around me calling me "Mwembamba" and "Mbwa Mkubwa", the first literally means "Slim" (they use a different words for 'Skinny', 'Thin' and 'Slim'), the second means "Big Dog" although some later started calling me "Mbwa Kali" which means FIERCE Dog.. haha....

We walked a short ways to the church, the NCOC - Nairobi Christian Outreach Centre. This church was in much better shape than George's... strange, considering George's church is in a MUCH better part of town.

They had a "brief" committee meeting (2.5 hours isn't very 'brief' to me!) and then opened the doors. A flood of widows and orphans filled the room. I didn't know that they were coming in, nor was I ready for them even if I HAD known. They pushed their way through to see the white Americans there and to hear what they had to say.

Doug and Amos spoke briefly about Micro-Financing, to see what they thought about it. Overall, it was a pretty good response, although some people still feel as if they should just get hand-outs. I got some good shots of the people... did my best to capture the moment.

After they spoke to all of the widows about micro-lending, they left and the orphans moved to the front.

There is an estimated 100,000 orphans in Kibera (remember, the size of Central Park, NY), though only 50 or so were at the church.

They didn't know what to think of Mwembamba at first. They were really confused and didn't like me sticking cameras in their faces... by the end it looked more like this:

The kids lightened up when I flipped my viewfinder so that they could see themselves as I filmed. I would take still pictures with the camera and show those to them as well. Most had never really seen that before.

See, most of the adults living in Kibera moved there when they were older. So they know of the world outside of Kibera. However, nearly ALL of the children were born there and don't know that anything else exists!

I fell in love with these kids. I fear for ever bringing Laura (or "Jua" as they call her here... Yes, she's already famous over here as the wife-to-be of the Mbwa Mkubwa!) as she will surely think of the most creative ways to sneak all of these lil' fiffers back to the states!

Shortly, they returned the love. They would come running to me to speak to me in Swahili, although I couldn't understand a word that they were saying, I would just laugh when they laughed and I seemed to get by alright!

Here are some of my new best friends:

Trying to leave was crazy! We left after meeting with an AIDs/HIV group there, to try to get them some help and work (nobody hires HIV positive people here.) As soon as I stepped out of the church and back onto the streets of Kibera, I was rushed by these kids:

They grabbed my shirt and my pants and tried to keep me from leaving, of course screaming "How are you? How are you? How are you? How are you?" over and over again. Edward ended up chasing them all off of me (REEEALLY funny, if you know Edward... he's not really the 'scary' type!)

We headed back to the truck and hit the road again, we were still smothered with: "Karibu's", "Jambo's" and "How are you's".

Back to the hotel, then out to lunch/dinner (at like 4pm, local) where I had this Cajun Chicken Burger... AMAZING! I said that I wouldn't eat the local food, but it's so hard not to! It's some of the best food I've ever eaten!

Back again to the AACC where I let Dougie B use the computer, since he hasn't been able to connect since we got here. I did a new magic routine that I call 'My Bleeding Heart', where I fuse 4 or 5 tricks together using the same cards, to utterly BLOW THE MINDS of the staff. A couple of them screamed and ran! It was awesome.

Later I showed them how a to do a "French Drop" (coin vanish) using a Kenya Shilling (Ksh, thier currancy) and a trick using a palming technique. That was like 3 hours ago, and they're STILL in the lobby (where I am) practicing and laughing.

I tried to get nap since I didn't sleep last night... couldn't... so I turned on the ol' boob tube and much to my surprise freakin' "Edward Scissorhands" was on! "Booyah!" I quietly said to myself.

Finished the Johnny Depp classic, then headed back to the lobby to try to get Internet again. No luck.

Oh well... it's 2 o'clock in the PM where you are... which means I should probably try to sleep again.

I miss youse guyses. Especially my sweet babe and precious Dude. I should've hugged her longer at the airport... and now that I think about it, I kind of wish my last words to her before boarding the plane weren't "Take care of my dog! Okaybye!"

I'll make it up one day....

S

At last... day one...

2007-07-23T09:40:00.000-07:00

Friday

I woke up earlier than 7:15, this morning... not by much... but earlier. I grabbed a shower, some clothes, and sat down to read some through the book of Acts. The bible can be confusing sometimes (read MOST of the time...)

I then stepped out of my room to find it a nice, crisp 65F.... very nice. Off to meet with a fella named Alvin, about MFI's (Micro-Financing Institutions), MED's (Micro-Enterprise Developments), and breakfast... (which for me consisted of COMPLETLY recognizable fruits.... you know... to be safe)

After a sickiningly long meeting, we headed to the airport to pick up the prodigal luggage.

After heading back to the airport to pick up Dougie B's missing luggage from Customs, we stopped by two areas very close to each other, "Pipeline" and "Quarry", to meet Pastor George, who pastors "Glory of Christ Centre" in the Quarry area.

Both of these areas used to be slums, but have evidently moved up in the world. This was my first expiernce with REAL povirty. I couldn't get the pictures that I wanted to get, as our escort wasn't with us. It's safest when in the slums, or really anywhere else around, if I don't keep my equipment in front of everyones eyes.

I also had my first run-in with Maasai Warrior, from the Maasai tribe, a nomadic tribe (one of 7 nomadic tribes of the 42 tribes in the area.) the Maasai are one of the only tribes left that maintain their heritage and culture. Everywhere you go, you will see them in their traditional coverings. The Maasai feel that they should be compensated for any pictures or videos that are taken of them, their belongings, or their land. They don't take kindly to tourists with clicking cameras and no money to give them. I'd like to get a good picture of one of the Maasai, but I need to wait until our escort is with us... If a Maasai Warrior gets pissed at me, I think I'll be a little bit more comfortable with an AK-47 on my side!!

Anyway... it was just terrible there. If this ISN'T a slum, I'm not looking forward to shooting tomorrow!

Later, we picked up Edward.

Edward is on the "Help the Least of These" commitee, the 'bean counter' as my trip mate has called him about 30 times.

Edward is a smart guy. Accountant by trade, youth pastor by passion. He's married, with one small baby.

We drove around looking for a bank that was open (banks here close at 3pm) whilst Steve and I tried to find a place to park. You'd think that'd be easy...

Check this out... since we've been here, I have YET to see A stop sign, or A stop light. Because there are none. There is also no such thing as "Right of Way" it is EVERY MAN FOR THEMSLEVES on the road out here. I've got a few VERY shaky videos that I'll try to up load. Laura, you'd HATE riding in the car here! Come to think of it, your mom might hate it worse!!

So, anyway... after we found the bank and a parking spot, we headed off to Trattoria, Dougie B's favorite African Italian joint.

Trattoria Restaurante - Pizza, Sea Food, Piano Bar
Definitely some of the best food I ever ate!! The service was rather strange... this was the first meal that I've eaten since the plane. I had some pineapple and bananas... So, this was a MUCH needed meal! After the weird service, where I found out that you can't order Diet Coke... why? Becuase it doesn't exist here. They have: Coca-Cola Light. It's actually about a thousand times better than diet coke, and comes in a 300ml glass bottle, with a non-twist-off top. Good times.

After the dinner, which cost just over 3800 Ksh (roughly $55, which fed 4 VERY hungry men and still had enough to feed to or three more left over,) we got the check which was printed on a full 8 1/2 x 11 sheet of triplicate carbon paper. We (Doug and I) were trying to figure out the tip for this diner, when our dinner mates, Steve and Edward explained that you don't tip in Africa.

Say what!?!

They said that the only people that tip are Americans pretty much, and in some industries it's actually disrespectful... which explains the dirty look from the "bell-hop" at the Guesthouse when I handed him a $1 for taking my bags to my room. Go figure.

Had a piece of their (what they call) pizza. It was pretty good actually. Nothing like REAL pizza... but pretty good. However, I didn't see ANYTHING on the whole menue (which was all leather, by the way) that had anything to do with seafood, nor was there a piano there.

Can someone say "false advertising?"

It's about 2:30pm, your time. 9:30pm "my" time. I'm sure that you're all at work, working hard... or not. As for me, I'm getting ampped for the first day of shooting tomorrow at 9:00am.

Wish me luck!

I love you and miss you all...

S

The AACC Guesthouse

2007-07-21T07:57:00.001-07:00

We were picked up at the airport by Pastor Amos and Randal (one of Steve's drivers... you'll learn more about Steve later.) They took us on the 20 minute drive to the AACC (All-African Conferance of Churches) Guesthouse, where we're staying.

I had seen a few pictures of Pastor Amos, who always has this goofy look on his face. I would always think to myself "Man, that dudes got a goofy look on his face." Well, I found out why... homeboy's goofier than old school white Jim Murphy, but able to become quite serious, when needed. Every bit just like I imagined him.

Pastor Amos

I then took a short tour of the place. Here's the building from the outside... don't let the pictures fool it... it's better than it looks..

Milk, anyone?

I then dropped off my bags and went back to the 'lobby' to meet back up with the guys.

Steve, our transport, who is the owner of Belkin Safari Adventures and on the commitee here for "Help the Least of These" later arrived. Steve's a good man. He runs a good business and makes a decent living doing it. He's an INCREDIBLE driver... which I found out was DESPERATLEY needed!

Steve... scary lookin' dude, huh!?!

We discussed what the plans would be for the next morning... then off to bed we went.

I, as usual, had a hard time trying to get to sleep. So I flipped on the tube, caught an episode of "Friends" (coincedntly, the SAME episode I watched just before I left the sates... "Smelly cat, smelly cat... what are they feeding you!?!), sorted my clothes, packed up my bag full of camera equipment and magic tricks, and ate a healthy beef jerky dinner.

I finally got sleepy at about 2am (8pm Ft. Myers time)... and got a few hours rest before having to wake up at 7:15 (local)... ready for my first full day in A-Freak-Ah!

Average, everyday, normal-looking people

2007-07-21T07:50:00.000-07:00

Not to speak badly of this fantastic nation (which has truly been FANTASTIC) but there are quite a few things that are rather corrupt. My first expeiernce of course was at the airport, as I entered the country.

See, if you're used to traveling the world (as I am.... not.) you know that to step onto another country's soil, you've gotta have a Visa (not the credit card... which was good... my credit sucks...), enter Kenya Customs. We arrived at Jomo Kenyatta Airport right on time, around 7ishpm (local time) and had to go straight the 'Visa Office' which was not an office, actually. It was a room about 2.5 times the size of my living room (including the dining area) filled with tons of people from all around the world.

Behind the desks were VERY well-dressed young men. Evidently suits are the typical daily attire for EVERYTHING. I mean these brothers look sharp just taking out the trash. Normally everyone that you see is in a suit and tie. (even the folks in the slums, as I later found out...)

There's a HUGE sign above the desk that says: "You MUST ask for a reciept stating your FULL NAME and AMOUNT PAID!" Evidently, if you don't ask for a receipt, Kenya will never see the $100 it costs to get your Visa. That's right... if there's no receipt, there's no record. The VERY well-dressed young man just pockets your cash.

We got our Visas, and headed downstairs to baggage claim and customs. What I saw when I got down there, I did not expect.

First, all of the passengers bags were THROWN all over the floor. As they came around on the conveyor, people just grabbed the bags and tossed them, to get them out of their way to get their bags.

As people flooded to get their bags, many people were struck with a small degree of grief as they came to realize that their bags were missing. When the line of 30 people, or so, formed behind the counter, one-by-one they reported their bag missing. They were evidently "left behind in Amsterdam." How does that happen? 30 bags left? Coincedently, these were all bags full of laptops, jewelery, cell phones, cameras, etc... hmmmmm... later I was informed that when the good folks at the Kenyan airport scan the bags, they grab valuables out of them before returning them to the owner the next couple days.

How all of my gear made it is beyond me. Thank God, though!

Next there was customs. Again, more VERY well-dressed older men of GREAT size and stature. These men were very scarred on their hands, faces, and heads. They looked like the African Mofia... a little bit scary, actually.

I watched as they randomly grabbed people to search them. You would think that they would have to search EVERYONE coming into the country. Nope. Actually, average, everyday, normal-looking people litterally WALKED through with ALL of them looking at them... never questioned... never touched.

HOWEVER, rich-looking people and REALLY poor, rundown-looking people were stopped and hassled. I watched them take things out of bags (confiscate, they called it) push people around, and even striking this one man with a baton. As I walked towards customs, I figured I was in for a some hassle. I mean, come on... a white dude of my size, stature, and good looks... it was over!

Well as I walked up, I stopped to put my bags on the counter to be searched, so that the hassling could commence, and they just waved me into their country... never questioned... never touched.

Evidently I'm one of those average, everyday, normal-looking people.

"Any minute now..."

2007-07-20T02:43:00.000-07:00

So, yeah... on a 9 hour flight from D-Town to Amsterdam... yay.

I got a row of two seats to myself which was pretty pimp! The seats were decked out with little TVs that had videos, music, and movies on demand....

I ended up watching "Distrubia" and "Blades of Glory" on that trip. The later was HYSTERICAL!

I ate some really crappy chicken, which you will find out in the new post that it gave me some VICIOUS bubble-gut, that I think The Dude would've turned away.

"Any minute now..." became my little motto, although I didn't think I would ever end up using it as much as I did!

See, as I boarded the plane headed for Europe, I chewed me up a fistful of Unisom (actually, it was Wal-Som, because I'm cheap like that) so that I could just sleep through the 9 hour flight...

I felt myself getting light-headed... awesome... "I'm gonna get some sleep!" I thought. I sat there as the words: "Any minute now" started running around in my head. "Any minute now I'm gonna doze off." I says to myself.

I finally started to sleep when today's NEW character, Hansen (Spelled like the boy band, but pronounced "Hanz Zen,") decided that he wanted to kick the back of my chair... yeah... my thoughts exactly.

I kept nodding off and Hansen would kick my chair some more and wake me. Evidently, he didn't like how much I was moving around in my chair. I found out after the 3rd time he kicked my chair as he said "Sit still tub!!"

"Hmmm..." I thought "Any minute now, Imma lay a hurtin' on this dutch punk!", luckily, God gave a me peace about it.

The rest of the plane later realized how much of an impatient man Hansen was as he proceeded to yell, yes YELL, at the crew and the passengers ahead of him as we tried to exit the plane. He stood there yelling "Let's move it then, horses! One fat foot in front of the fat other..." it was pretty crazy....

I was able to get a couple cool pictures. Laura's camera does GREAT on planes, evidently.

Brad, you might enjoy these two. On the way to Amsterdam, we had to fly over God's greatest creation: Ireland. Or as the Dutch spell it, Irlande (someone should tell them that they put the 'e' in the wrong place...)

You can't see any land, but you can definitely see the view of Ireland from Heaven.

(it's sideways... but you get the idea)

I took some other pictures over Amsterdam, and thought about posting those, but then I realized that any shot that I took from the plane looked just like the other ones... so... go back and look at the picture of Detroit, and pretend that I said it was Amsterdam...

Close to the time we landed... the condintion of my bubble-gut worsend... a code red! I knew I shouldn't have eataen that Amsterdamish chicken!!

My stomach growled and churned... my motto came in handy... any minute now, we're gonna have a problem! But to my surprise... I just had gas. Good times. I knew it was good to eat that Amsterdamish chicken!!

All our flights were on time, and we made it to Kenya close to 7pm, local time.

I wasn't quite prepared for what I'd see next........

Trail mix? Red Box? Pringles?

2007-07-20T01:43:00.000-07:00

It's a quarter 'til noon, local time (4:45am for you guys) and I'm FINALLY able to get to the Internet.

Dougie B got his luggage "lost" on account of him having multiple cell phones and laptops in his suitcase. I'll talk more on the corruption at the airport in a later post. But as I kept the laptop in my carry-on, nothing of mine was tampered with. I'm still not sure how all of my bags made it here safely... evidently, they didn't noticed the $8,000 worth of video equipment in my bags... they must have overlooked the beef jerky that Momma Mack packed me in my "Africa Survival Kit" either... lucky for me... as that was my dinner last night while watching "Friends".... sadly I get more American TV stations here than I do back home... ::shakes fist:: "DANG YOU BASIC CABLE!!!!"

Anyway... since I had the laptop with me, I was still able to write for my blog.

Here's the one from the first day of the trip:

Trail mix? Red Box? Pringles?
Whatever happened to peanuts on the plane?

It's 8 o'clock on Wednesday night, Ft. Myers times, of course. What better to do while on a A330 Airbus headed to Amsterdam, than to type up your next blog, while listening to the soundtrack to "Batman Begins" ? (courtesy of Mr. Joy Saquing... whether he knows it or not...)

I had an interesting flight from home to Detroit, or as my peeps there call it: "DDDDD-Town!"

Why was it interesting? Well... remember how I was REEEALLY fat when I left home earlier today? Yeah.. we'll, I'm still pretty much fat. Doug, bless his heart, took it upon himself to arrange the seats around me to be empty... for multiple reasons:

1.) He knew that I was going to be doing a lot of typing, and storyboarding for the upcoming videos on the plane, and of course wanted me to have enough room.

2.) He know that the odds of me being REEEALLY skinny by the time we left for our journey, were pretty slim (please... excuse the pun). Needless-to-say, he wanted my flight experience to be as FGA as possible.

3.) I got nothing...

Not to metioin the pat-down and search that I recieved trying to leave Ft. Myers... I'd go into details... but it's a part of my life that I'm trying to forget... besides... what happens in US Customs, STAYS in US Customs....

Here's the run down. While on the 3 hour flight from the Myers to DDDD-Town(!), we were pleasantly surprised to find that another flight had been canceled and the attendees needed to get on our plane. And of course, our flight was now PACKED to the gills.

Well, long story short... I guy walked up and proudly proclaimed: "Sittin' wit da BIG DAWG!!"
This is probably more amusing when you find out that I tend to call myself the "Big Dawg" on a regular basis.

For some reason, his name has COMPLETELY completely vanished from me. (Who's the magician now, tubby!?!)

Anyway, Doug and I talked to "Mr. X" for a good long while. Got to hear some of his story. X is from Kentucky. He is 36 years old and got divorced, just a little wile back, from his wife of 11 years. He has a 13 year boy who wants his ears pierced in the worst way. And a 10 year old girl, who already hates men. Sadly, X is no longer married, and flew down to spend some time with this girl who turned out to be not what he needed... good call...

At roughly 3:47pm (20 minutes after our flight took off, I learned another fun fact about X: dude can SLEEP hardcore on a tiny plane where he's scrunched up by the fat guy.

After a couple attempts to capture his picture without waking him up, I was able to do so:

Here, also, are some pictures from the inside of the outside.

For some reason, the guys weren't too hip to my "Those people look like ants" comment while were still on the ground. They were all "Um.. we haven't left yet!"

Really?

Who knew?

Here's the wing of the plane, in case you wondering what it looked like.

Here's X asleep... again:

Ever wanted to see Detroit? Yep.. in all it's glory. If you look closely, you can see Eminnem walking down 8 mile. "Everybody in the 313.....)

After three hours we finally made it to D-Town.

Soon thereafter Doug and I were on the sprint of our lives (imagine that... the Big Dawg sprinting!!!) Luckily, we made our connection flight on time.

Amsterdam, here we come!!

I thought change was a coin...

2007-07-17T06:00:00.001-07:00

Change? What does that even mean!!?!!

I like Webster's very first definition of the word: "to make radically different (see also TRANSFORM)." For those of us who work in the 'church' for a living, would typically follow that with: "That'll preach!!"

Webster goes on to say:

1 c : to give a different position, course, or direction to
2 a : to replace with another
b : to make a shift from one to another
d : to undergo a modification
1 : to become different
5 : to undergo transformation, transition, or substitution
6 : to put on different clothes

See... I thought change was a coin, a nickel or a dime. (-Alathea)

What does it mean to 'change the world?' I mean THE WORLD!! Does anyone have any clue just how big the world is? Let me give you an idea...

According to the the US Census Bureau (2006):

In South West Florida, where I live, there are 1.1 Million people. In numerical form, it looks something like this: 1,100,000 people. That's a lot of zeros.

In the state of Florida, coincidentally where SWFL is located, there are 18,089,888 people. Interesting... lot's of 8's now...

In the great country of the United States of America there are over THREE-HUNDRED MILLION people.

And according to the Central Intelligence Agency of the USA, as of July 2007 there are 6.6 BILLION people in the world. 6,602,224,175 to be more specific.

I wonder what it would take to CHANGE them (see again the definition above.)

What could be done to RADICALLY transform them. Transform their lives? Their actions? Their thoughts? Their speech even?

I often think about this. How could I, just one random guy with no REAL talents (outside of being able to fake having real talents really well..) change the world? I suck at talking. I'm not rich. I'm not powerful. I'm not strong. I've got bad hair, and can barely read on a 4th grade level. What can I do the CHANGE the world?

Well... the answer is: nothing.

Pretty anti-climactic, huh?

Before I go any further, let me explain a few things.

My name is Slim. Slim Gillian, to be more precise. I live in a small house, in a small town, in a small state. I live with a small thought process, small dreams and small faith.

I wake up in the morning (and neglect to thank God for allowing me to live just one more day,) I make some breakfast and then usually eat said breakfast.

I go to work at Summit Church, where I complain about my work load and about how much my co-workers disrespect what I do (and neglect to thank God for giving me a means to make decent money and live.)

Once I get pissed off enough at my job I drive home in my nice car, a deep red Chrysler Concorde LXI, completely decked-out... all leather, power EVERYTHING, which was GIVEN to me, because of my 'work and dedication' to God (and neglect to thank God for giving me a means of transportation.)

I get home to my wife-to-be, Laura, and my punk-rock dog, Dude, just to be a jerk to both of them (and neglect to thank God for such an AMAZING woman, and such a punk-rock dog.)

Long story short: I'm a jackass. Not like the "Ohhh!! You said the 'A-S-S' word... I'm telling!" kind of way... more of the "It's a Donkey... get away with saying it on ACME cartoons kind of way..." (please... don't tell my mommy...)

So... I suppose now the question can be more refined: What can a jackass do to change the world?

As you could imagine, the answer is the same.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

In just over 24 hours, I will be boarding a plane headed towards a 12 day journey. A journey that I hope will be life changing... not just for the people that I'm going to see and work with, but for myself.

I head to a slum (Kibera) inside the city of Nairobi, which is in Kenya, which is in Africa... or as I like to call it: A-Freak-ah. "It's this whole other country..." (-Forrest Gump)

For the next, almost, two weeks I will be living, eating, breathing, laughing, and crying with the people of Kibera.

Know how big an acre is? Think about an acre. Mmmmm... nice acre...

Now think about 843 of them in a circular-type layout.

Congratulations, you've just imagined Central Park, NY. Stay with me now...

Imagine Central Park, NY... add some housing structures, made of clay a sticks. Make sure that you didn't imagine running water or plumbing. Throw in armed government officials to make sure you "stay in line."

Congratulations, you've just imagined a slum.

One last thing... imagine that slum... the size of Central Park, NY... a mere 843 acres... with 1.1 million people living (and dieing) in it.

Number sound familiar? That's right... the same amount of people that live in the ENTIRETY of SWFL (Naples, Bonita, Ft. Myers, Cape Coral, Marco, Sanibel, Lehigh, LaBelle, and every other city that I'm forgetting) inhabit a slum the size of Central Park.

Congratulations, you've just imagined Kibera.

Now, what could one guy do to change JUST Kibera? Sadly, nothing.

One would imagine that the question would need to be changed to render a positive response. So... with that in mind: How could God USE someone (especially some no name guy with bad reading skills) to change Kibera, Central Park, Africa, Florida... the world?

What could God do to use some guy to reach EVERY man, woman and child?

The answer: everything.

I started walking with God a year and a half ago. I stopped walking with him, and went into more of a slow crawl about 6 months ago.

I used to have many people holding me accountable to my actions. Many people holding me to a higher standard of living.

Now... not so much.

Not that I blame them... but without at least a small degree of accountably in your life, you are destined to fail. I believe it was bible that said that life couldn't be done by yourself, and that we're meant to lift each other up in spirit and in prayer.

What's the purpose of this blog, (and more importantly this RIDICULOUSLY long post) you ask?

My hope is that perhaps one person out there will be able to read these posts, and watch as God does some AMAZING things in my life... as I expand my thoughts and start to walk with Christ once again.

And perhaps that person can 'check me' on my sprititual walk.

I love you all... wish me luck in this new journey: One man's journey... to change the world. One small thinking, bad haired jackass (in the ACME kind of way) kinda guy at a time.

I used to think change was a coin... a nickel or a dime...

SLIM