Star Wars: Episode VII - The Force Awakens Official Teaser Trailer #1 (2...

I'm trying really hard to exercise self-control, but OMG STAR WARS!!!







That is all.

The Sweetest Curse

I have one question: can we please stop calling things on the internet "porn?"  I see it everywhere, food porn, earth porn, and even tech porn.  I'm getting sick of it because porn isn't something good. It's bad.

Pornography originally defined any sort of art depicting prostitutes or prostitution (thank you, Webster's).  That's people who sell sex.  They're not too high on anyone's hero list (unless you're an internet feminist). 

Porn caters to base lusts. It's degrading and disordered. To quote everyone's favorite Republican VP hopeful and loudmouth, "you can put lipstick on a pig..."

The Day the World Went Away

One year has passed since my grandfather died. Life has been very different since then. I've started a new job in a different city on the other end of the state. I'm a little closer to some family members I used to consider estranged and a little further from side that I thought were inseparable. I'm busier than I ever thought I would be and far more blessed than I ever expected.

I miss him, even after the passed time and multiple life changes. I didn't know him as well as some of my family did, but I do remember always looking up to him. He knew everything and never seemed to doubt himself, like so many other men from his generation.

He was also very religious. He was sort of a backbone at his parish. I remember going to mass with him after I came back to the church. He was reverent and joyous. I got in line for communion and he was right next to the priest, handing out the Eucharist and our seemed like that was right where he belonged. That's the biggest take away right there. Say what you want about the old man, he loved the Eucharist. That was his big deal.

I want to be a better Catholic in honor of his memory. I want to keep that party of the legacy alive. James Wyss, pray for us. Don't spend too much time in Purgatory. See you in Heaven.

All the Heavy Lifting ( How St. Benedict Helped Me Become a Better Layman)

I struggle with spirituality. I don't do great works of charity, there isn't any time for that because of the three (almost four) kids. I can't play music or sing, so I'm not involved with church music. I'm not an extraordinary minister because I struggle to make it to church regularly. I can't be a deacon because I'm too young and I don't have time for training. I don't donate a lot because i just started a new job and we bought a new house and diapers are expensive. I don't lead Bible studies since I work nights and weekends I don't have many friends. I am not great orator or demagogue. What's a guy to do?

In fact, mothing in my life qualifies me as what most people would describe as profound Christian. I used to worry a lot about that and I used to really worry that all my reasons were just excuses. I fought a huge internal battle of insecurity, worry, and doubt until I discovered something so profound that it changed the way I looked at life and convinced me that I really am Catholic, monasticism in a little monastery called Christ in the Desert.

Christ in the Desert is a Benedictine monastery in New Mexico. I don't remember exactly how I found out about it other than at the time I was investigating Catholic spirituality as part of the RCIA program and I was really interested in the American Southwest. Since the monks there observe the Benedictine life I naturally did some research to find out what it was all about. St. Benedict established a rule for monks to live by. Wikipedia (a good source for cursory information- don't let anyone fool you) sums up the rule as this, Pax and ora et labora, which means "peace," and "pray and work." This naturally hit me like a lightning bolt from the clear blue sky I happened to be sitting under while I smoked a cigar and contemplated this. 

All the work I had been doing suddenly made sense. I wasn't going to be the next Padre Pio or Fulton Sheen and I didn't have to be. I just had to keep doing what I was doing. I still struggle with doubts and I am by no means an overly peaceful person and no one can ever part enough, but that's okay. As the greatest saints struggled with their great work I will struggle with mine, raising a family and doing right by them. 

Pax and ora et labora.

Water, Water Everywhere and Not a Drop to Drink

Last week was the week from hell. We had painters in the house, multiple doctor appointments, and work was stressful. I was pretty relieved that Sunday had finally come and I could finish putting my house back together, relax a bit, and enjoy some time with the family before starting in on next week. I finally got everyone to bed and settled down to watch the new Supernatural episode. I ignored the odd musty smell in the basement because I hadn't emptied the dehumidifier in a couple days, put the clothes on the dryer, started the dishwasher, and then happily went to sleep expecting a quiet morning ofwentfee and re-attaching cabinet doors. My house had other ideas, though.

I woke up this morning to splashing sounds and little footsteps running through the kitchen. My sleepy mind assumed that it was one of my kids trying to get an early morning glass of water from the refrigerator and spilled some. I ignored it and rolled over. The splashing persisted. I roused myself from my bed and went into the kitchen to see what was going on. There was water everywhere. It was in front of the dishwasher and I started to freak out a bit because my coffee-starved brain assumed the dishwasher self-destructed while I was sleeping. So I went went downstairs to get the mop bucket and there was more water. This stuff was yellow and smelled terrible and since it under the pipes near the upstairs toilet I assumed the worse.

My panic levels were rising because all the kids were awake and they wanted breakfast NOW and any minute my wife was going to wake up and I would have to have to figure out a way to explain to her that the dishwasher AND toilet quit in a spectacularly messy way. I started to furiously mop up all this water and I got the kitchen more or less dry. I headed downstairs to do the same, mercifully there is a drain less than three feet from the basement puddle and everything liquid is in the unfinished utility room. I started feeling better about this when all of a sudden my head started getstingwet. I look up and water is coming from the ceiling. I wasn't really surprised at this point but I wad a little disgusted since I still assumed this is from the toilet. I threw a bit of Pine Sol knock off on the floor to sanitize the mess and set to cleaning up the big pantry cabinet next to the puddle and dry off the pipes. Things finally looked pretty dry so I headed upstairs to look for a plumber.

Thumping and screaming interrupted that endevor.  My four-year-old son who we will call Mr. J sliped on the damp kitchen floor and fell down. I went to calm him down and send him back into the dry side of the basement when I noticed that there was ANOTHER puddle on the floor. Dammit. So I got Mr. J changed and grabbed the mop again. I came back upstairs and my wife was standing in the kitchen. She asked what happened and then grabbed some paper towel to clean up behind the refrigerator. I started mopping again and she told me that she found the leak. It was the water line to refrigerator's ice maker and door water dispenser.

I calmed down a bit and even managed to shut off the water to the refrigerator while still leaving water in the bathrooms (and more importantly the kitchen - coffee maker) running. We solved the problem and I eventually got to the cabinets. I managed to get a laugh out of it all in the end and learned once again that the wife is usually right. Good one, house. I'll get you next time.