tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65355324913339715402024-03-13T13:36:18.174-05:00A Mind Full of Mud PuddlesBrett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-18564108477988485822017-03-23T18:06:00.001-05:002017-03-24T08:42:33.286-05:00Fake Memories...Is anything real anymore? (The Mandela Effect)Maybe the Matrix is real.<br />
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I don't have a satisfying explanation for the Mandela Effect (the term coined by Fiona Broome for having memories which differ from "reality"). I have recently stumbled upon a number of websites devoted to this topic and I am bewildered by how many memories I have which I never would have doubted to be true, but are apparently...not true.<br />
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For example, the Volkswagen logo has supposedly always been a V on top of a W within a circle with a distinct break in between the V and W.<br />
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Yet I remember a different logo where there is no dividing line in between the V and W. (Unfortuntely, I cannot find an image online to even show you what my memory of the logo looks like.) There is no historical proof that the VW logo has been any different from the image shown above. You would think I would know what the logo on the front of the car that I drove for 15 years looks like, but evidently not. My memory has failed me. And if you are agreeing with me that the VW logo was once all connected with the V and W not so obvious, then I guess your memory is failing you too. Odd that we should both have the same wrong memory about something as innocuous as a brand logo, don't you think?<br />
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This is a very unsettling feeling. All of a sudden the Matrix doesn't seem so far-fetched. Am I crazy for asking how?/why?/what happened? which caused a shift to occur where current history does not reflect the shared memories of people alive today? Am I the only one with "false memories"?<br />
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Judging from the outcry on the internet, I am not the only one. I am curious if you too find some of these disconcerting. I want to mention a few more of these that I was surprised by and will lump them into three different categories: (1) wrong words, (2) false memories that are fuzzy, and (3) false memories that are vivid.<br />
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Wrong Words<br />
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(1) What song did Mr. Rogers sing at the beginning of his show? I remember singing along to "It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood...a beautiful day for a neighbor...won't you be mine?" However, those weren't quite the words to the song. He instead sang, "It's a beautiful day in THIS neighborhood..." (No way! I would have surely noticed that in the 100s of times I listened to him sing that while he was taking off his shoes and putting his jacket in the closet, etc.) Evidently, everyone else who grew up watching that show remembers it exactly as I do. Yet, the song has supposedly always been "this neighborhood." What do you remember?<br />
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(2) What about the TV show that made Sarah Jessica Parker a household name? I thought it was called "Sex in the City." Nope, wrong...the name of the show was "Sex and the City." (I don't think I ever watched a single episode of this show, but it definitely was a fairly popular show that I would have seen advertised a number of times and would have been discussed frequently. Can't believe I always thought it had a different name.<br />
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(3) Similarly, "Interview with a Vampire" was not the title of the Tom Cruise movie that I did see once very soon after it came out on video. It was instead "Interview with THE Vampire." Weird. I would have bet money it was the other way.<br />
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Fuzzy False Memories<br />
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(1) I have always loved James Bond movies. In the movie <i>Moonraker</i>, there is a scene where the giant assassin known as Jaws meets a petite blond with pigtails. Many people remember this character (Dolly) as having braces and that certainly rings true with me. However, she didn't. This is a fuzzy one for me and it doesn't completely freak me out like some of the ones we get to in a moment. But lots and lots of people remember her with braces and it certainly makes sense in the context of the movie.<br />
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(2) FREAKY (but still a bit fuzzy): the genie movie with the actor/comedian Sinbad. Did anyone see this movie or have some memory of it? I distinctly recall a movie like this though I never did watch it. I also remember in some detail the cover of the movie which is PRECISELY what is described by others who remember this movie which many believe was called "Shazam." Some people who have watched it a number of times can pretty much describe the whole plot and can give fairly explicit detail of the various scenes with others echoing almost verbatim everything about the movie. However, there is no evidence that this movie exists...yet so many people swear up and down that they have seen it and I myself recall that there was a movie like this and have a vague memory of the cover which has been corroborated by what others have said. Here is a <a href="http://www.strangerdimensions.com/2017/01/08/shazaam-problem-mandela-effect-strikes/" target="_blank">great link</a> on this one. If this movie never existed, then why in the world do I have a memory about it that mirrors what so many others believe?<br />
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Vivid False Memories<br />
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Now here is what I consider to be the grand-daddy of them all...the Berenstein Bears! Please read <a href="http://www.strangerdimensions.com/2015/01/21/the-berenstin-bears-problem-are-we-living-in-an-alternate-worldline/" target="_blank">the Stranger Dimensions blog</a> and <a href="http://www.woodbetween.world/2015/08/effective-mandela-theory_5.html" target="_blank">the Wood between Worlds blog</a> to see what has me scratching my head and questioning my very existence. And for the truly scary cognitive dissonance...the JFK assassination is completely different than what I "remember." History now shows that JFK died while in a stretch convertible with six (6) passengers in the car, two people in three rows of seats. Why do I have such a vivid memory of seeing the motorcade footage with four (4) passengers in a more normal four-seater type of car? I also remember one of the main arguments that Kevin Costner used in the Oliver Stone JFK movie involved a "magic bullet" that went through the hand (or arm) of the driver in the front seat and then made a u-turn and struck JFK. Did I just dream all of that up?<br />
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For other examples of the Mandela Effect, check out <a href="https://www.buzzfeed.com/christopherhudspeth/crazy-examples-of-the-mandela-effect-that-will-make-you-ques?utm_term=.xfgp4EB3a#.fwkr2nmyv" target="_blank">BuzzFeed</a> and <a href="https://www.theodysseyonline.com/14-mandela-effect-examples-that-will-mess-with-your-brain" target="_blank">Odyssey</a> (many of the examples are repeated, but with a few additional ones). As I mentioned at the beginning of this post, the Mandela Effect was made popular by Fiona Broome. If you are interested in this topic, I recommend you start at <a href="http://mandelaeffect.com/about/" target="_blank">her blog</a>.<br />
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There are quite a few explanations for how these false memories can occur, most of which I find completely satisfying and logical, especially for the wrong words and movie misquotes which have found their way into our culture. However, the Sinbad, Berenstein Bears, and JFK examples defy any logical explanation, due to the sheer volume of people who believe it to be one way and the vivid details which are remembered. Just this morning, I talked to three guys and asked them if they remember the children's books of the bear family who lived in the hollow tree. All three of them had. All three of them remembered it Berenstein (with one of them pronouncing it Beren STINE and the other two pronouncing it like I remember: Beren STEEN). They also seemed puzzled by the fact that JFK was riding in a car with three rows of seats when he was shot.<br />
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I'd love some feedback on this one to see if any of you also have some of the same false memories that I do. Let me know.Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-32351170443606669182016-07-11T22:23:00.001-05:002017-03-23T19:18:26.184-05:00Once in a LifetimeI'm in the throes of middle age and carefully constructing and rearranging my Bucket List of those things I'd like to do before I die. I've had an epiphany of sorts which has made this process fairly simple. If I get to any of the things on my Bucket List...AWESOME! If not, no big deal. The pressure has been lifted from this idea that I might not have gotten everything out of this life if I don't do these things I've always wanted to do. I can thank Arnold Schwarzenegger and Matt Smith for helping me out here.<br />
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My bucket list consists of things I've never done. I may not even like some of them. Take this one for example...visiting the Swiss Alps. Sure, every single human that has ever been there has loved it. Yes, all of the pictures are stunning and I know how pictures never do the landscape justice. But what if I get there and find it a waste of time and money? It's possible. What if I don't like the people or the shnitzel (or whatever it is they eat there)? What if I never get to see the Alps with my two eyes or ever get to ski with the Matterhorn looming over me? I'm okay with that.<br />
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Let me tell you how Arnold Schwarzenegger and Matt Smith helped me out here. Arnold is said to have made this humorous quote which I love: <br />
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"Money doesn't make you happy. I now have $50 million but I was just as happy when I had $48 million."</blockquote>
Now after enjoying that statement at face value, I thought about it logically and concluded that for someone who has $48,000,000, another $2,000,000 isn't that significant. If I take my wife out to dinner at a decent restaurant, it's not going to be a big deal to me if the bill ends up being $50 if I had originally thought it might be $48. In it's simplest form, we are talking about the difference between 24 and 25...a difference of one. Hardly anything to get all that excited about, right?<br />
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Enter Matt Smith. If you are wondering who he is, he's a guy I met in Aspen while I was on a ski trip there in February. Matt was encouraging me to hike and ski the legendary Highland Bowl, though I wasn't sure I was up for the challenge. The Highland Bowl was on my bucket list of places I wanted to ski, but there is no lift to the top of this peak which means you have to hike from elevation 11,700 (feet above sea level) all the way to 12,400. I had earlier in the week hiked to the top of a mountain and was amazed how much it took out of me, and that was only climbing from 11,200 to 11,350. So I was worried about carrying skis up a narrow ridge and how I might waste half of my day struggling to get to the top and then be so tired that I wouldn't enjoy the trip down.<br />
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Matt's final pitch to me was "you know, this could be a once in a lifetime experience for you." When he said that, my initial reaction was "He's right...I've got to seize this opportunity to do something I've always wanted to do." But then something struck me about doing something that would be once in a lifetime....just once...only one...one is not that much different from zero. It's the same difference as 24 from 25. Sure, the jump from 0 to 1 is pretty dramatic (unless we are talking about having kids and then it's the jump from 1 to 2). But still, it's only one more than where I've been my whole entire happy life. I decided not to hike the bowl, being content with where I was and not giving in to the pressure of checking off something that was on my bucket list, even if that really was a once in a lifetime opportunity that I let pass by. Maybe next time...maybe not.<br />
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I'll be okay. My wife will still love me. My kids will still love me. My parents will still love me and say they are proud of me. Thankfully, those things aren't once in a lifetime events.Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-21284750308063565302014-07-11T03:59:00.003-05:002014-07-11T03:59:53.705-05:00Confessions of an Older Sibling: Old MaidI don't live with much guilt in my life. In the rare occasion when I feel a twinge, it harkens back to my days growing up as an older sibling. I was a firstborn. Of four. (King of the castle? Me. Darth Vader, Han Solo and Luke Skywalker all wrapped up in one? Me.) 1st of 4. Only son/male. Me. Need I say more? (Okay. I will.) I was like Esau with the birthright and Jacob usurping everyone around me. It would have been perfect except that I was blamed for everything that went wrong because I supposedly knew better. (I was freakin' 5 years old! How was I supposed to know that I couldn't belt my 3-year old sister across the face when she chomped down on my arm like a ravenous T-Rex whenever I wasn't willing to play "House.") (Do kids even play "House" anymore or was that some weird 70s thing that only happened when there was more than one female child?) Seriously, it was a decent gig. The Blame Game got old but I learned to roll with it.<br />
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Being the oldest meant I was usually in control. Being the only boy with three younger sisters meant lots. (I haven't completely figured it all out, but most of it was good as far as I can tell.) And in case I didn't mention it, I was in control (but I should confess, I really had no idea at the time...but who does?!?).<br />
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Unfortunately, I will never understand and know how my younger sisters looked up to me and thought I was something better than I knew that I was. I can only shrug, smile and...well, write about it now. They thought I was cool. (I wasn't, but they will never believe me. But I love them for thinking such silly things.) I admire them for having such altruistic thoughts towards one of their siblings.<br />
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Anyway...<br />
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Old Maid was a very important part of my upbringing. I learned about psychology, reverse-psychology and everything in between by playing Old Maid with my dad and three younger sisters.<br />
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Allow me to fill in some details now that I mentioned my dad and sisters. My dad was (and is) brilliant. He was also a great dad. (GREAT DAD is defined as "male parent who enjoys his kids so much that he will play anything and everything with them and pretend like he is loving every minute of it.") The reason I know my dad was the GREATEST is because 30 years later, I still don't know if he was pretending or not.<br />
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Sister No. 1 was Elise. She was smart and serious. She loved bossing the rest of us around. I ignored her drill sergeant demeanor but my other two sisters humored her. She was hard, unflinching and always up for a challenge.<br />
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Sister No. 2 was Amaris. She was beguiling and beautiful. She scared me to death because she was the one sister I knew was thinking things that were well beyond the little box that I called my comfort zone.<br />
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Sister No. 3 was Jaira. She was compliant and clumsy. She was the baby-that-never-got-babied-but-still-was-the-baby because Sister No. 2 was scaring not just me to death, but everyone else in the family as well.<br />
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Where was I? Oh yes...Old Maid. We all played Old Maid. (Except for mom...she was doing all the stuff that kids don't notice since I don't remember what she was doing while the rest of us were playing Old Maid.) I remember us having a dedicated Old Maid deck with a host of funny characters (Fanny Flint and Betty Bumpers immediately come to mind). As the oldest son (who was absolutely positively sure that he was smarter than his younger sisters), Old Maid was a riot. I'm sure there was a day when I thought having the Old Maid in your hand was a bad thing, but I honestly don't remember it. The undeniable truth of Old Maid is that the game is not the least bit interesting until you get the hated card in your hand so you can feel the absolute-otherworldly pleasure of unloading the card on someone else.<br />
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Few things in life are as satisfying as that exact moment when the dastardly card is plucked from your hand, especially as the horror of what just happened is fully registered on the plucker's face. If there is one thing that younger sisters can do, it is cry. Tears, tears, and more tears. I had a love-hate relationship with my sisters' tears. Typically, grabbing the Old Maid was instant tears (which I loved). Sometimes there were threats to just stop playing the game (which I hated). If I was laughing, smirking or showing any hint of amusement, I was accused of cheating or being mean (hated). But since my dad was usually involved and acting similarly, I was absolved of any wrongdoing (loved).<br />
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ASIDE: I am just now realizing how much my sisters were short-changed of the true Old Maid experience. Whenever I would snag the hated card from them, I would never give them any satisfaction as I would act as if nothing whatsoever was wrong when I chose the card of that old frowning hag. I was delighted! What a wonderful opportunity to see them shed even more tears when they grabbed the darn thing from me again!<br />
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The game within the game within the game...Old Maid got serious once the person holding the Bitch (My lands! Did he just say what I thought he said?!?) was down to just a few cards. That's when we would start to play mind games. (Hmmm, Elise keeps picking the second card from the left so I think I'll put the Old Maid in that spot.) (Surely if I raise the Old Maid higher than the other cards Jaira will think I am trying to trick her into picking that card, so she will pick a different card and BOOYAH! She will fall right into my trap.) (Hmmm, Amaris saw right through my ploy last time. Should I stick with the plan this go-around or mix things up?) Needless to say, if you play this twisted game long enough, you are bound to feel the indescribable elation of eventually seeing your sick plan work to perfection.<br />
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And when it does, don't hold back. All is fair in love, war and Old Maid. If there is ever a time to dance, it's that moment when your younger sister was about to grab Succotash Sam for the win but at the last moment switches and grabs the Old Maid. My usual response was to act upset for a split second until they see the card and then when their shoulders would slump in obvious dismay, I would break into song-and-dance and celebrate as if I had single-handedly won the World Series, Super Bowl and NBA championship all in one, nevermind the fact that I still had to draw a good card from them else I would have to endure precisely the same humiliation.<br />
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But that's just it...as the oldest male...I only remember the good stuff. I'm sure I lost a few Old Maid games, but I don't remember them. What I DO remember is grabbing winning cards and my sisters crying, screaming (even kicking) just because they were left holding the OLD MAID!?! (I admit, there is a sick satisfaction even typing this 30 years later.) I remember my sisters crying themselves to bed because they were the Old Maid. I remembered them thinking they couldn't go on living because they were the Old Maid. I remember my mom getting mad at both my dad and me for not letting my sisters win (especially so close to their bedtime). It was glorious. I had no idea at the time that it would prove to be an enduring highlight of my life.<br />
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<br />Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-86259619092011001402014-03-30T19:31:00.001-05:002014-03-30T21:25:45.066-05:00Spring Break 2014 - Day 2: MiamiIt was Monday morning and we had hoped to get away early to spend some time at the beach. We were all moving slowly and were trying to figure out which beach to go to since our "beach" trip the day before didn't turn out like we had hoped. Unfortunately, anywhere we went was going to involve a bit of a drive. We were considering Miami Beach, Key Biscayne, Ft. Lauderdale, Hollywood Beach and a few others. We finally decided on Hollywood Beach (just north of Miami and south of Ft. Lauderdale). We had originally wanted to leave at 9:00 AM, but didn't get out the door until 11:30 AM. We got stuck in Miami traffic and didn't get to Hollywood Beach until 12:45. We parked in a five-story garage that had a digital display telling us that there were 8 open spots available and were able to find a couple of open spots on the 3rd level. (This garage had sensors installed at every parking spot similar to what you might see on automatic-flushing toilets. A po-dunk Missourian like myself had never seen one like this before.)<br />
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The weather did not exactly cooperate for our day at the beach. It was 73°F. When we arrived, the beach was a sea of humanity (which was good prep for what was to come). We struggled to even find a spot to spread out some...oops! We forgot to bring towels. We had everything else though. As soon as we found a small patch to set up shop, it started raining. In about 120 seconds flat, everyone scattered and we found ourselves nearly alone on the beach. The instantaneous evacuation was amazing. While I was glad to have more space to maneuver, the poor weather was not to my liking.<br />
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The wind picked up. The skies were gray. It was raining. And we were at the beach. Bad things happen when the Bartons decide to go to the Beach. (In our two family beach vacations, both vacations were cut short due to hurricanes.) It should come as no surprise to you that we are just not big fans of the beach.<br />
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Vanessa (Clay's wife..Clay being Elly's brother) put up umbrellas and beach chairs while Elly went looking for a beach store to help us with our towel shortage. The kids and I hit the waves....or, what passes for waves here in south Florida.<br />
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I have memories of going to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina as a kid and getting pummeled by waves that rolled and literally crashed on top of me. We saw no such waves here at Hollywood Beach today. What you see above is what the surf looked like. We played in the water for a while and then were done.<br />
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Even though the air temperature was cool, the water was quite comfortable. We hung out for a little while longer before returning to our car, which was one of the few cars remaining in the parking garage which was packed when we arrived back when the sun was shining.<br />
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We returned to Clay's house and had a nice dinner of grilled hamburgers and were looking forward to heading to Disney World early the next morning.<br />
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TO ALL OF YOU BEACH-LOVERS: What is it about the beach that we are missing? Both Elly and I have zero desire to ever have another beach vacation as all the hassle that it involves seem to be much greater than any enjoyment we get out of being at the beach. Please enlighten us.Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-48691104177288576232014-03-24T21:21:00.001-05:002014-03-24T21:21:28.816-05:00Spring Break 2014 - Day 1: MiamiI slept like a rock last night and ended up getting almost 12 hours of sleep. Just what I needed to get this vacation back on track. It was Sunday and we were headed to the beach. But since we were in Miami on Spring Break week (this week was also the state of Florida's Spring Break), we were worried that all of the popular beaches would be especially packed. Clay had heard some good things about a spot south of where he lived which we figured wouldn't have the normal tourist traffic. The location was Biscayne National Park and off we went...<br />
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We soon found out that it was not easy to find Biscayne National Park. We knew something was wrong when we got to a bridge that went to the Florida Keys. So we had to backtrack and ultimately arrived at our intended destination late in the morning. We thought we were going to a beach and what was actually there at Biscayne National Park was a lagoon. And not just any lagoon, but a lagoon frequented by crocodiles. (Yes, you heard me correctly...crocodiles.)<br />
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Even though the lagoon was not exactly what we had in mind, we all had a good time there. It was fairly low-key (which I appreciated), though we were one of the only families there that spoke English. We did not stay there all that long before deciding to pack up to grab a late lunch at a decent restaurant. We ended up at a really nice waterfront place (Black Point Ocean Grill) which was exactly the type of restaurant I like to go to when "at the beach."<br />
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We were mildly disappointed though to learn that the wait to seat our party of 10 would be about an hour, but were quickly put into good spirits by a flurry of texts from people back home informing us that Kansas had just gone down in flames in the NCAA Tournament to the mighty basketball power that is the Stanford Cardinal. Things were really looking up when the hostess then informed us that our table was ready after only a 10-minute wait. This was a really nice lunch.<br />
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After enjoying our time at the Black Point Ocean Grill, we went back to where Clay lives. Only instead of going to his home, we went to the neighborhood swimming pool/country club. We spent more time here than we did at the lagoon earlier. This was a very nice facility and we enjoyed all that it had to offer (which included hot tub, sauna, steam room, etc.). Clay was great with the boys as you can see from the photos below.<br />
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After a fun-filled day, we finally returned home at 7:30 PM. The kids ate some pizza while the rest of us nibbled at left-overs from lunch and previous day's meals. Serai and I casually watched some of the basketball games before we all retired for the evening. It was a good day.Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-68937700933639897502014-03-24T19:04:00.002-05:002014-03-24T19:04:31.628-05:00Spring Break 2014 - A Drive to ForgetThree years go, our family spent Spring Break at Disney World. It was a wonderful trip which is described <a href="http://amindfullofmudpuddles.blogspot.com/p/walt-disney-world-2011-report.html" target="_blank">HERE</a> in excruciating detail. Last year, the kids stayed home for Spring Break while Elly and I had <a href="http://amindfullofmudpuddles.blogspot.com/2013/03/aspen-colorado-dream-come-true.html" target="_blank">an amazing time in Aspen, Colorado</a>. This year, we decided to return to Orlando to rekindle the magic of Disney.<br />
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Elly's brother Clay recently moved from Washington D.C. to Miami and he encouraged us to "swing by" Miami on our way to Orlando since we would be driving down this time (as opposed to flying as we did in 2011). The kids were not excited about riding in a car for the 20 hour trip to Orlando and were especially not liking the idea of extending the drive down an additional four hours to hang out for a couple of days where there was no Disney World.<br />
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Clay and his family then decided they would also be going to Disney World so we considered just meeting them there rather than driving all the way to the southeastern tip of the U.S. We ultimately decided to tack on two days in Miami so that the kids could have a little beach time (Ariya has never been to the beach).<br />
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The original plan was to leave as early as possible on Friday afternoon to have fewer hours driving while tired. I didn't know if Elly and I could handle this type of drive as it was about six hours beyond my road trip comfort zone. We were going to play it by ear and stop to rest if we needed to.<br />
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I ended up getting away from work a lot later than I had hoped which pushed our departure time back to about 4:30 PM. We loaded up the trusty Expedition and headed east. Our first pit stop was in Illinois and it was a quick one. We made decent time through Kentucky and Tennessee. I had been driving the whole way and started getting tired after we crossed into Georgia. I really wanted to get us past Atlanta and hoped that I would revive as dawn approached.<br />
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I was not prepared for the amount of traffic that I would encounter on this trip. Just about every license plate I saw in Tennessee and Georgia was an Indiana plate, with a few Illinois ones sprinkled in. But even in the middle of the night, the highway was full. Best as I can tell, the whole Midwest was on Spring Break and everyone was driving to Florida. Let me tell you, it's hard enough driving through the night on an empty highway, but when you have to be dealing with heavy traffic every second of that all-nighter, it makes it that much more difficult and exhausting. By 4:30 AM in the heart of Georgia, I was done.<br />
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When I pulled off the highway the car started making a funny noise. It did not sound good at all. I pulled into a gas station, filled up and told Elly it was her turn to do some driving. We did pop the hood to see what was making the noise. Well...it was pretty obvious as there was a belt that seemed to be doing something it shouldn't which was what was causing all the racket. Elly and I both figured it was the timing belt since we're both clueless about cars and that was the only belt we knew by name. Since we didn't have any good options where we were, we thought we would keep heading south and pull off in a couple of hours to have the car looked at since we wanted to keep moving toward our destination.<br />
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Poor Elly starts heading down the road and within 20 minutes, the belt completely blows and she is forced to bail out on an exit ramp which miraculously appears in the early morning Georgia darkness. We quickly get on the phone to call for a tow truck. An hour later, the tow truck picks us up and drops us off in Warner Robins, Georgia. It was pretty funny seeing Elly and the four kids packed into the "backseat" of the truck cab.<br />
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The tow truck dumped us into the parking lot of a Ford dealership and there we were 90 minutes before the service department was scheduled to open. An hour passed. Thankfully, a few employees got there early and immediately gave the car a looking over. Initial reports were that they may not have the parts and would not be able to have the car worked on until Monday. We were thinking we would need to rent a car to continue our trip and just pick up our car on the way back home the following weekend. It was looking like it would have been a much better idea to fly.<br />
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We were soon told that the car could be fixed that morning, but that it would take close to three hours to make all the repairs. We were thrilled to hear that the car could be fixed, but were slightly saddened to hear how much time would be lost here in Warner Robins at the local Ford dealership. As you can see, the kids were not thrilled with the predicament.<br />
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It was 9:00 AM and the kids were hungry. I figured it would be good to get them out of the service department waiting room. We went on a walking tour of the "business loop" of Warner Robins, Georgia in hopes of finding a McDonald's or some other place to grab some breakfast. We walked around for a bit and only found a place called Krystal. The kids and I all agreed that it was disgusting. We later found out that Krystal is a fairly popular place in those parts. The locals acted surprised that we had never heard of it, but when they found out that we were from Missouri they would all say, "Oh...well, you have White Castle."<br />
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Before I move on, there are two things I want to say about Warner Robins, Georgia. First and most importantly, everyone we came in contact with there was extremely nice and went out of their way to do whatever they could to help us. Secondly, we struggled to understand most of what they said because their accent was so strong. On a couple of occasions, I had no idea what was being said and just nodded my head and laughed because I had no idea what they were telling me. Elly and I were trying to figure out if they had as hard a time understanding us.<br />
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They were able to get the car repaired fairly quickly and we were back on the move at 10:00 AM. Total down time was approximately 5 hours. I was back behind the wheel and we were headed south but sobered by the fact that we were only halfway to our destination.<br />
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There was nothing fairly interesting about the rest of the trip except for the kids getting antsy at various points. It was a long drive and one that I hope that I never have to make again. The Spring Break influx made it especially difficult as we were fighting heavy traffic every mile all the way into Miami.<br />
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We pulled into the driveway of Elly's brother's house in south Miami at 7:30 PM Eastern time. Our total trip time was 25 hours, 33 minutes. (1,326 miles in our car...about 30 miles in a tow truck). I slept well that night.Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-21196730719408890202013-03-30T11:41:00.002-05:002013-03-30T12:32:42.802-05:00Aspen, Colorado: A Dream Come TrueWhen I was 14 years old, I fell in love with skiing. For the next ten years, I began taking road trips out to Colorado at least once a year to engage in this activity which brought me exhilarating joy. While people take ski trips for a host of different reasons, my trips were about two things: the skiing and the camaraderie. I also enjoyed visiting new places and skiing the unique terrain offered by the various resorts. While I'm not exactly sure how it started, I had a growing desire to visit Aspen, Colorado to ski the legendary Aspen Mountain. (I've had a similar fascination with Jackson Hole, Wyoming and Sun Valley, Idaho.) But I grew up, got married, got a job, had kids and my quest to become a ski bum never materialized. So my annual trips out to Colorado came to an end.<br />
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When Elly and I got married, one of the ways she has shown me love was her willingness to learn to ski, since she readily recognized how much it meant to me. We even went to Steamboat Springs, Colorado on our honeymoon with the naive notion that I would teach her how to ski (she had never been before). As you might guess, that was a disaster beyond explanation which gave our newlywed status an early test.<br />
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Five years later (2002), she was willing to give it another try. Elly had earned a free stay at Taos, New Mexico through Pampered Chef and we went there on our second ski trip together. This time we did it right, as she took three days of lessons while I skied solo. Over those three days, Elly learned to ski and actually enjoyed herself on the mountain. And when we weren't skiing, we were having a blast dining out and being tourists in a fascinating place we had never been before. But I was reminded that while I love to ski, it's not nearly as enjoyable as skiing with someone...anyone.<br />
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In 2007, we had three children ages 8, 6 and 2. We went to Keystone, Colorado with another family for Spring Break and had a wonderful time. Not only was I able to ski with someone, those someones were precious to me (Elly and the kids). However, I was reminded of how expensive it is to take the whole family skiing (transportation, lift tickets, ski rental, lessons, lodging, etc.). My two oldest children seemed to enjoy it at the time, but haven't been as interested in making a return trip. Each year when we would start thinking about Spring Break I would test the waters to see if the family would be interested in another ski trip and I would always get turned down. This year was no exception.<br />
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In January, I joined my son Marek on a school field trip to the ski hill just outside of St. Louis (Hidden Valley). We had a great time and it reminded me of how much I loved to ski and especially to ski with someone I love. Little did I know at the time that I would make two trips to Colorado in the next two months to Steamboat and...ASPEN!<br />
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Which brings me to today.<br />
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I just finished my third day of skiing this week. It was my third day of skiing with someone. It was my third day of skiing with someone I love and that third day just happened to be my first day at Aspen. It was the culmination of a romantic vacation and the realization of a dream that began over 20 years ago.<br />
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Now here's where some of you may want to stop reading. I will now provide a fairly detailed account of the trip which you may find a bit tedious. Those of you who have read my marathon race reports know what to expect.<br />
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<u>Trip Day #1: Friday</u><br />
Elly and I left Columbia at 7:20 PM and drove to Hays, Kansas. (Hays holds a special place in our hearts as being the same place we spent our first night as a married couple on our way to Steamboat back in December of '96.) We arrived at Hays a little before 1:00 AM and opted to spend the night at the Hampton Inn there (as opposed to the Comfort Inn which was our choice 16 years ago). There were rumors of a snowstorm coming from the West and I was hoping to beat it.<br />
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<u>Trip Day #2: Saturday</u><br />
We woke up at 5:30 AM, ate breakfast and were on our way heading west down I-70. But within minutes, my heart sunk as the snow had begun to fall and the temperature was dropping. I was no longer optimistic that we would get to the mountains before the snowstorm hit. My fears were confirmed shortly thereafter as warning signs stated that I-70 was closed at Colby, Kansas. The interstate was now completely covered with snow, but we followed the tracks to the Colby exit where we were forced to exit. It was a bit after 7:00 AM and we were in a town where there was absolutely nothing for us to do. I put gas in the car and asked one of the employees there what to do. He said, "Better get a hotel room. The road will be closed for a long time and the hotels will get full." Not what I wanted to hear.<br />
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We drove around and found a travel plaza that had a Starbuck's. I hooked into their wireless network to get online, look at the weather map and observe the road closings between there and Denver. The situation was pretty grim and wasn't looking good for us getting to our destination that day as the entire eastern half of Colorado was getting hammered by snow. We weren't getting anywhere closer to Aspen sitting there in Starbuck's in Colby, Kansas so I decided it was time to make a move. Another couple (from the St. Louis area) noticed us leaving and asked if they could join us. We exchanged cell phone numbers and turned our makeshift caravan south into the barren wasteland of snow-swept Kansas.<br />
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We went directly south from Colby down a state road which had lots of snow on it. We had to drive about 20 miles before catching the next east-west road which was U.S. 40 -- a road I had been on plenty of times on previous trips to Colorado. Our spirits were lifted when we turned onto 40. The road was clear. Snow was coming down hard but we were able to turn west and head into Colorado and found that a few other cars had joined us. Forty miles into Colorado we came upon the tiny town of Kit Carson. We stopped at the only thing there that looked like it might have a bathroom -- the Kit Carson Trading Post. Our new friends stopped along with another guy who was trying to get to Salt Lake City, Utah ("Utah Dude"). We relieved our stressed-out bladders and bought a few things at the Trading Post for the trouble and left hoping to head west into Colorado Springs. Unfortunately, the road out of Kit Carson was closed.<br />
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Since there was really nothing there in Kit Carson (no gas station, no hotel), we again headed the only direction we could...south. We drove 20 miles to Eads, Colorado where we were able to catch a road which went west and was actually open for travel - Colorado State Highway 96. While heading west on 96, the wind out of the north picked up which made conditions extremely challenging. At times, we could barely see anything in front of us. Our caravan partners were able to plow ahead, but I pulled off the road as I simply could not see anything but WHITE. The wind howled and rocked the car as we sat there waiting for the wind to die down or the blanketing snow to lessen. Finally, a group of four cars passed going at about 10 miles per hour and I seized the opportunity and pulled right out behind them and was glad to see another car behind me who was driving at a similar speed and I felt some safety as I was able to see the car in front of me and this ragged string of cars plunged westward into the swirling snow.<br />
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We came upon a town which had a gas station and we had to leave our place in the caravan to gas up, grab supplies, kick ice off the bottom of the car and steady our nerves. The temperature was 10 degrees and my guess is that the wind chill was about -20°F at this point. It had taken us almost 3½ hours to travel the last 60 miles from Kit Carson and as we were getting ready to depart from this gas station, Utah Dude pulled up. We saw each other and laughed as we knew what each had been through to get to this point.<br />
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From here, the conditions improved considerably. Our friends from St. Louis called and gave a good report about what lay ahead. They were able to make it to Highway 50 and said that Pueblo, Colorado was within reach. We were still a long way from there though, but were encouraged that we might able to punch through this horrible storm and finally start making progress toward our goal. Conditions improved considerably the closer we got to Highway 50 and Pueblo. When we turned onto 50, we were back on a four-lane highway and things were looking good. We were 8 miles from Pueblo when we saw flashing lights and a patrol car completely blocking the highway. A semi had jack-knifed and the road was blocked. I couldn't believe it. We were 8 miles from Pueblo and had been through so much to get to this point in our journey and were derailed once again. A truck driver who was also stopped there on the highway said that we could turn around and go back to the next town and take side roads into Pueblo. We turned around in the median and headed back in the direction from which we had just came. Aspen was west and north of where we were and we were heading east.<br />
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There was a town five miles east (Avondale) which we were able to go into and take back roads into Pueblo. But those back roads were a bit scary as we saw numerous cars which had run off the road along this stretch. Another funny thing occurred here as we passed a gas station and saw Utah Dude getting out of his car. We honked and waved while he appeared to laugh at the humor of crossing paths once again. Upon reaching Pueblo, we were relieved and exhausted. The good news was that it was not snowing there and the sky looked clear to the west. The not-so-good news was that I was unsure of where to go from there. We stopped at a gas station to gas up and decide our next move.<br />
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Upon walking into the gas station, I was shocked to see someone I knew from Columbia buying something at the counter. I said, "What in the world are you doing here?" He was in the exact same situation that we were in as he was trying to get to the mountains and had obviously taken the same circuitous route that we had in hopes of getting around the snowstorm. For some reason, this was encouraging to me that others had gone to similar great lengths as we had.<br />
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While we still had a ways to go, mountains to climb, heavy snow to navigate, I was energized by the knowledge that our goal was attainable. On our way to Aspen, we passed the ski resorts of Breckenridge, Copper Mountain, Vail and Beaver Creek. We eventually arrived at our hotel in Snowmass Village at 10:00 PM and gratefully crashed into bed, weary from the long journey we had just completed.<br />
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<u>Trip Day #3, Ski Day #1 (Snowmass): Sunday</u><br />
The Aspen ski resort is actually made up of four different ski mountains: Aspen, Aspen Highlands, Buttermilk and Snowmass. Our hotel was located in Snowmass Village, right at the base of the gargantuan complex that is Snowmass. (Snowmass is larger than Aspen, Aspen Highlands and Buttermilk combined.) Since Elly is still a pretty tentative skier, I figured that Snowmass would provide the best training ground to get her warmed up for the three days of skiing that we had planned.<br />
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We started the morning by riding the Elk Camp Gondola up mid-mountain and then took a green beginner run (Funnel Bypass) back down to the bottom. This was a pretty long run and we were the only ones on it. The snow was perfect and we both enjoyed the warm-up, though there was nothing warm about it as the temperature at the time was in the single digits with the windchill well below zero. We spent the rest of the morning trying to figure a way to keep Elly's hands warm. (We eventually bought some new mittens for her which seemed to help.) Elly seemed to gain sufficient confidence on that initial green run as she was ready to tackle the intermediate blue runs from then on. It being a Sunday, the mountain did get crowded in spots during the day despite the dreadfully cold conditions. All things considered, we enjoyed Snowmass and felt that it was a great intermediate mountain. We felt a little short-changed since we found ourselves going inside a number of times during the day to warm-up which limited the time we actually skied.<br />
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We made our way back to our hotel, cleaned up and hopped on a bus into Aspen to find a nice place to eat. (Aspen has a great bus system which we took advantage of every day we were there.) We asked around and were told we would find good seafood at Pacifica. We found it and had a wonderful experience there (so much so that we came back again the following night). When we got back to our hotel, it was just before 7:00 PM. Elly went to bed and was asleep within seconds. It took me about 30 minutes before I too succumbed to sleep. I guess we were tired.<br />
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<u>Trip Day #4, Ski Day #2 (Aspen Highlands): Monday</u><br />
The forecast for today was looking good. We took a bus to Aspen Highlands and were one of the first ones on the mountain. And what a glorious mountain it is! While Highlands is much smaller than Snowmass, it's also a lot less crowded. It has some really nice green and blue runs which come down the lower part of the mountain which we enjoyed. Our only gripe with Aspen Highlands is that it is a very narrow mountain with all of the runs feeding down into one run at the bottom which does get fairly congested no matter how small the crowds are.<br />
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The weather in the afternoon was ideal: clear skies and temperature right around 30°F. We took advantage of it and got lots of great skiing in as we tackled most of the blue terrain that Highlands had to offer. I especially liked ending the day with some steep intermediate terrain (Thunderbowl) which Elly skied extremely well. We had hoped to experience the Cloud Nine Alpine Bistro but it was booked for the day. If we make it back to Aspen Highlands (and I hope we do), we'll definitely be making a reservation at the Cloud Nine Bistro.<br />
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We took a bus back to Snowmass to change out of our ski gear and then caught another bus to Aspen to return to Pacifica for dinner. Just like the night before, we had a wonderful dining experience that included a hamburger, french fries, prawns, oysters on-the-half-shell, wine (for Elly) and beer (for me). That's not the only way this night was like the previous one, we again returned to our hotel and immediately went to bed.<br />
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<u>Trip Day #5, Ski Day #3 (Aspen Mountain): Tuesday</u><br />
We woke up early and had breakfast at the Big Hoss Grill in Snowmass Village. We both had the Eggs Benedict (which has become a ski trip tradition for me). After breakfast, we caught the bus into Aspen and boarded the Gondola at 9:00 AM and again were one of the first people on the mountain. The weather was warm and the sun was shining. Elly was worried since everyone had been telling us how difficult Aspen Mountain is (there are no green runs at Aspen). We found there to be plenty of easy blues at the top half of the mountain. We got lots of skiing in on this our last day here, even though it got uncomfortably warm (45°F) in the afternoon.<br />
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We stopped for lunch at Bonnie's restaurant on the mountain and shared a Philly Cheese Steak sandwich and sweet potato fries. We skied the legendary runs of Ruthie's Run, Copper Bowl, Gretl's and Little Nell. We finished strong feeling like we had pretty much covered all that Aspen Mountain had to offer. We really enjoyed skiing together.<br />
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We turned in our rental equipment and took the bus back to Snowmass. We had a great dinner at The Stew Pot which consisted of cream of mushroom soup, a turkey sandwich and beef stroganoff which Elly washed down with a glass of wine (house cabernet) and I with a beer (Chimay Blue). After dinner, we returned to our hotel room and got sucked into watching about six episodes of Storage Wars before calling it a night.<br />
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<u>Trip Day #6: Wednesday</u><br />
We woke up early and departed from Snowmass Village at 4:50 AM. We had to navigate through quite a bit of snow from Vail all the way to Denver, with Summit County getting dumped on while we passed Copper Mountain. Once we got through Denver, it was smooth sailing for the rest of the drive home. We did stop in Hays, Kansas for a quick bite to eat at the nicest Wendy's restaurant I've ever been in. We made it from Aspen to Columbia in exactly 14 hours and set a new personal record from Denver to Columbia in 9 hours, 50 minutes.<br />
<br />
<u>Post-Trip Thoughts</u><br />
Elly and I had so much fun and but for the drive out had an ideal vacation. We laughed, we cried, we skied, we ate, we slept and we just enjoyed one another's company for the duration of the trip. We both loved Aspen and I came away thinking it's the type of place where I would like to return to on a future ski vacation. Aspen's lift ticket system is the best I've experienced. Not only do the lift tickets work on four different mountains, but the lift tickets themselves are just a credit card which you stick in any pocket and is automatically detected whenever you enter a lift queue. No sticky tickets to attach and no waiting to be scanned by a lift attendant. I also liked how some of the lifts had trail maps on the safety bar so that you could be planning your next run while riding up the lift. Lastly, every Gondola car at Aspen Mountain had a decorative plaque in it which provided some Aspen history. I thought that was a really nice touch. If I ever make it back, I definitely want to ski more of Snowmass and also give Buttermilk a try. That is all for now.<br />
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Thanks for reading.Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-28101865657792029822012-05-09T02:02:00.002-05:002012-05-09T02:15:54.353-05:00Odds and EndsI noticed a Facebook status this week that got me thinking. It was a Dr. Seuss quote which I will try to quote from memory:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">"There is something that is truer than true, that there is no one that is youer than you."</blockquote>I am very grateful to Dr. Seuss. How else will I remember the sound that the letter "F" makes, except by knowing that there are four fluffy feathers on a Fiffer-Feffer-Feff? Anyway, being the ever-so-egocentric person that I am, the above quote (which I undoubtedly butchered, but you get the idea) got me thinking about those things that make me unlike any other person who has ever lived before in all of history. Here are a few of the oddities that make up who I am.<br />
<br />
ODDS<br />
<ol><li>I have never been in a Dollar General.</li>
<li>I have never eaten at White Castle.</li>
<li>I have been investigated by the Secret Service for threats made on the life of the President.</li>
<li>I consider myself an expert on James Bond movies, Hardy Boys books and the making of the perfect turkey sandwich.</li>
<li>I don't drink coffee, milk or wine.</li>
<li>I have one wife and one dog.</li>
<li>I have two sons, two daughters, two cats and two cars.</li>
<li>I have three dollars in my wallet.</li>
<li>I am a lawyer, but you would never know it from the car that I drive. </li>
<li>When I was in law school, I proposed to a girl who had just graduated from high school. We were married five months later (and no, she wasn't pregnant).</li>
<li>I once stood in line for over an hour just to get into a McDonald's. Once I got inside, I was so hungry I ordered two Quarter Pounders, two large fries and a strawberry shake. I wolfed it all down and thought it was one of the best meals I'd ever had.</li>
<li>I am especially obsessive-compulsive when it comes to sports. When I was in high school, I would shoot 200 free throws every day. When I was in college, I would spend 2 hours a week working on my snow skiing technique...in my living room. Next was table tennis (you really don't want to know about this one, trust me). And then I started running. I have run six marathons (26.2 mile races) and on May 23, 2008, my good friend Mike Acock and I ran 36 miles together to celebrate our 36th birthdays.</li>
<li>I hate McDonald's.</li>
<li>I was born in Michigan but have not stepped foot in that state in 38 years.</li>
<li>I love music but am a lousy musician. I've taken piano lessons, guitar lessons and saxophone lessons and am not especially good at any of them.</li>
</ol><div>ENDS</div><div><br />
</div><div>I am a huge fan of the <i>Seinfeld</i> show. Just this past week, I had a new experience which was right out of a Seinfeld episode (the Pez Dispenser episode for you <i>Seinfeld</i> freaks). I was in Joplin for my daughter's high school state soccer tournament. While driving down I-44, I noticed a few things. First of all, are there any armadillos left in the world or were they all hit by cars in between Lebanon and Springfield last week? (Seriously, I had no idea there were so many armadillos in Missouri. And my oh my do they make a mess when they get hit on the highway.) Secondly, there were a number of classy looking billboards for casinos that caught my eye. I live right off of I-70 in Columbia and drive by a casino billboard every single day and I can honestly say it has never once got me wanting to go visit the Isle of Capri in Boonville. (Never been there, but hear that the regulars who go there refer to it as the "Pile of Debris." How nice.) But while driving to Joplin, I was captivated by one of the billboards and thought "I've got to go check this place out."</div><div><br />
</div><div>But in order to get the full sense of the story, I have to provide a little background. One of my best friends growing up has told me stories about going to casinos and dog tracks in his home state of Wisconsin. Before the days of legal gambling on the "boats," I tried to explain to my friend that I didn't think he had really been to a casino in Wisconsin since Nevada was the only place in the country at that time where casinos were legal. I will never forget his response: "Oh but this was on an Indian reservation. They can do whatever they want there." When I first heard this explanation as a 12-year old, all sorts of images filled my mind of my friend at a casino on an Indian reservation where they can do whatever they want there.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Lo and behold, the casino being advertised on a billboard along I-44 was a casino just across the border in Oklahoma...on an Indian Reservation. It was seven minutes away from my hotel in Joplin. I have been to Las Vegas and walked through the ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding casinos of the Bellagio, Treasure Island, Mirage, Paris, Caesar's Palace, Flamingo Hilton, Venetian, but I had never been to a casino anywhere else. Imagine my surprise when I walked into the casino in Oklahoma and Tonto was not there to greet me at the door. Pocohontas was not serving drinks and I didn't see a single freakin' headress or anything that looked Indian anywhere in that casino. What kind of Rez is this? Where are the teepees? Where are the buffalo being hunted and the red men? I was shocked. I had these images so seared into my brain of what a casino on an Indian reservation looked like that I was having trouble believing my eyes.</div><div><br />
</div><div>So how was this like a <i>Seinfeld</i> episode? Well, the Pez Dispenser episode has some great dialogue where George admits that he has never understood why anyone would go to a flea market....because he just assumed that there were fleas there. (I think this is hilarious because I've never wanted to go to a flea market for that exact reason!) Anyway, I had similar misconceptions about what a present-day Indian reservation was like. I'm not sure why I thought I would just cross the border into Oklahoma and all of a sudden be swept into the Wild West with Indians on horseback directing me to the blackjack teepees where Chief Silver Scowl would be dealing out of an eight-deck shoe.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Well...now I know.</div><div><br />
</div>Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-58230485446776506552012-03-20T11:01:00.002-05:002012-03-20T11:52:39.408-05:00Mid-Life Musings: Beginnings and EndingsTwo-months ago I crossed a barrier. I was a young and vibrant 39-year old who then had a birthday that pushed me into the mid-life frontier. Now here I am, a youthful personality trapped in an aging body as the unmerciful clock keeps ticking no matter how hard I try to pretend otherwise. As I look around to gather my bearings in this unknown world that is mid-life, I first notice that I'm no wiser than I was yesterday.<br />
<br />
What gives? I thought that was the trade-off...the magical exchange...as the body ages, the mind fills up with wisdom. Instead, I'm taking what feels like my first baby-steps in what is now my fifth decade not knowing where I am going and why I am even going anywhere in the first place. So here are my mixed-up musings as I transition into truly becoming an adult.<br />
<br />
• I like to begin new projects and I like to end them. I hate everything in between (you know, where you actually have to be constructive and put in the work). It is easy to remember the beginnings and ends, the highs and lows, but almost all of our life is lived in the middle. We like to think we are living a glamorous life, yet we spend so much time putting stuff in our mouths, sitting on toilets, sleeping (or trying to sleep), mindlessly flipping through channels on the TV, driving from one place to another and planning the short interludes that we do when we're not in a car or on a toilet or hypnotized by the TV or sleeping or eating.<br />
<br />
• Now about these projects I like to start, I have begun writing four different novels. I have outlined basic plot structures and begun work on the opening sequences on each of these stories. Then I get bored or realize how worthless these stories really are and the reality is that I will never get a book published. So why do I have this urge to keep this hope alive that I will come up with something fresh that people would actually like to read and pay money to do so? I guess I have this itch that I like to have the option of scratching whenever the mood suits me which makes me think I do have some hidden artistic skills that will at any moment blossom into a beautiful thing. Any moment now...just wait...any...moment...now...<br />
<br />
• I have this strange faith in God which has gotten all jumbled up of late. One of my best friends in the world knows how jumbled up I am about God so he suggested I read a book that he himself had never even read. So I read it and it makes all sorts of sense to me but doesn't really unjumble my mess. So now I'm even more jumbled up than ever. But now I'm okay with it. If you want to talk about God and are okay with being messy about it...I'm your man.<br />
<br />
• I have four young children. Four kids is a lot and tending to their every need and want can be overwhelming most of the time. When they are all around and chirping, they drive me crazy. When even one is gone for more than hour, I miss him/her and feel like something is just not right in the world. Surely there is a balance where sanity can actually exist and I can feel like a parent that is in partial control of his family. (By the way, four kids is a lot these days! Did I already mention that?)<br />
<br />
• Beginning a new thing is usually pretty easy. Ending it is even easier. It's sticking with it during the good and bad where the true challenge lies. Whether it's marriage, raising kids, a job, school or a New Year's resolution, this cat won't be impressed unless there's truly that middle...that's where life really is. I have learned a lot by reading about other people's experiences, but muddling through the mud puddles in the middle is where wisdom resides. There are no short cuts. Trust me, I keep trying to take them and they never get me to where I want to go.<br />
<br />
• And the world keeps moving, while some pass on...Our family suffered a loss in January when our cat Nemo was run over by a car. Nemo was a good cat and was loved by all. He was more than just a family pet. He represented something abstract -- a touch of grace at a time when it was desperately needed. His sudden death seems harsh and cruelly unnoticed by all of humanity except for the few who knew him during his two years of living. We have all suffered loss in various forms and I don't pretend that the death of a cat can even compare to the loss of a loved one. Yet for my kids, this was their first taste of the death of something that they loved. My heart was broken for them as they grieved. What surprised me though, was how my heart seemed to enlarge as I held them while their little bodies were convulsed by sobs. I did not think it was possible to love them any more than I did, but there it was -- a newly discovered compassion that was triggered by a horrible event. I hated their pain, but loved them more for seeing how brutally they loved and how brutally they experienced loss.<br />
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• College basketball is dead to me.<br />
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• Life is a paradox. We often utter clichés to express this fact, such as "the more you know, the more you know you don't know." Wisdom is a thing to be grasped, yet when you do grasp it in those random fleeting moments, it's nothing like you thought it would be. As I age and mature, my wealth of knowledge has been exposed for what it really is -- a single drop in a vast ocean of all that there is to know. Unlike the connect-the-dot puzzles I did as a child, I have been connecting dots all of my life and the pattern that is emerging is more mysterious than ever.<br />
<br />
As you can see, there really are mud puddles in my mind. Thanks for reading.Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-27333477365066649062012-02-06T23:40:00.002-06:002012-02-07T08:16:09.036-06:00To ExistI believe in God. More precisely, I believe in the God described in the Bible.<br />
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I had a thought which hit me while I was in church this past Sunday which has been rumbling around in my mind ever since. It has become a mud puddle.<br />
<br />
When someone asked God who he was, his answer seemed a bit strange: "I AM." Just in case that wasn't entirely clear, God was kind enough to clarify: "I AM who I AM." (Ah...now we are getting somewhere!)<br />
<br />
Okay, God, you are wanting to tell us that you are...that you exist. And not only that, that your very name implies that YOU ARE. Nothing more than that really; but nothing less either (which is a lot).<br />
<br />
Before I ever came into existence, God existed. While I exist, he still exists. Once I stop existing, the dude will still abide.<br />
<br />
I've never done drugs before, but I've always thought that when one gets high there is this fleeting moment of clarity when things come together and you get a glimpse of ultimate truth and you remind yourself to not forget this one important thing when you come back to reality. Well, I experienced something akin to that when I was in church and I thought about God naming himself I AM. (Most of us don't get to name ourselves, but God was not so unlucky.) If I may be so bold to paraphrase God's own description of himself, he chose to name himself EXISTENCE. He exists. And because he exists, we exist and everything that has ever existed has existed.<br />
<br />
One of the more popular philosophies of the day is atheism. People like Sam Harris, Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens (RIP) are celebrities who have become famous by denying that God exists. I have friends who have embraced this ideology and thrown off what they consider to be the crippling yoke of religion/faith.<br />
<br />
But I do believe that EXISTENCE exists. I believe there is a purpose in the randomness. I believe that everything that exists points to EXISTENCE. As I type these words, I am reminding myself that He is. I so easily forget and spend so much of my time (existence?) as if he isn't. But he is. It's his name. Why did he name himself that? He does't want us to forget. I guess I was reminded again on Sunday. He is.<br />
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"And that has made all the difference." (Final line of Robert Frost's <i>The Road Not Taken</i>)Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-35857068658085571352011-12-28T17:47:00.003-06:002011-12-28T17:57:10.952-06:00Smooth Sailing: The Year in Review2011 has been a challenging year. In fact, that's putting it rather kindly. 2011 has been a difficult year. Now don't get me wrong -- that's not necessarily a bad thing.<br />
<br />
I keep hoping that as I grow older that I will get more organized and the wisdom that comes with age will help me better control my environment. But instead, I find myself frustrated that as life flies by I am holding on for dear life with absolutely no sense of control. If I had thought ahead and was better organized, I might have sent out a Christmas card this year (my first ever). I was blessed by all the cards/letters/pictures that many of you sent to me. With every card I get, I think "some day I'll be as together as [insert your name here BUT ONLY if you sent me a Christmas card] and send one of these out."<br />
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So I failed again, but it's not too late to do something. Here is my last-ditch effort to put together a Christmas Card. I give to you the Barton Family Year in Review, with the seemingly-paradoxical subtitle "Smooth Sailing."<br />
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<u><span style="font-size: large;">Elly</span></u><br />
I am finishing this blog entry on December 28th, which happens to be our wedding anniversary. Today marks 15 years that Elly and I have been together as husband and wife. We hope to celebrate each other by having a romantic dinner at a posh Columbia venue. I can honestly say that I am proud of my wife for being more attractive, thinner, smarter, more creative and more loving than the day that I married her. It hasn't always been easy, but that's what has forced us to grow together. I love you Elly.<br />
<br />
Elly never finished college as we decided to start our family and have her be a stay-at-home mom. But this year, she decided it was time to head back to school to get her degree. She has been a very dedicated student and is excited about obtaining a degree in nursing so that she can go to work once all of the kids are in school.<br />
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Back in January, Elly surprised me with a trip to San Francisco on my birthday. I had never been to California before. We did all of the typical tourist stuff (Chinatown, Fisherman's Wharf, Muir Woods, Alcatraz, Golden Gate Bridge) but probably enjoyed our drive down to the Monterey Peninsula the best. It was nice to get away even though it was only for 3 days.<br />
<br />
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Elly and I also got away for another quick trip in May when we went to Nashville to see Neal Morse in concert and meet up with John Elefante. I previously blogged about this trip <a href="http://amindfullofmudpuddles.blogspot.com/2011/05/two-worlds-collide-road-trip-to.html" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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<u><span style="font-size: large;">Serai</span></u><br />
Serai turned 13 this month and is partially to blame for this being such a difficult year. I feel as if our family has been taken hostage by Serai's sports. Serai played on a competitive soccer team this fall which meant that most of our fall weekends were spent traveling to her games. While it is always fun to watch her play a sport that she loves, the constant travel took its toll on our family (I thought). As soon as soccer season ended, high school basketball began. Serai, despite only being 13 and an 8th grader, is playing on the varsity team at Christian Fellowship. She appears to have improved nicely from last season, though she still gripes about all the running she has to do in practice. Serai is an excellent student and Elly and I are grateful that we never have to get on to her about doing her homework. She is very self-motivated as far as that is concerned. She looks like a grown-up woman and I still have a hard time believing that I have a child who looks like that.<br />
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<u><span style="font-size: large;">Marek</span></u><br />
Marek is now 11 and is also a good student. Following in the steps of his older sister (and dad, for that matter), he is learning how to play the saxophone. Marek is almost always pleasant to be around as he has a great sense of humor and is usually happy. He loves to read. Earlier in the year he finished the Harry Potter series along with the Percy Jackson series. He is now enjoying other books along similar lines. Of course, most of his recreational time is spent playing games on the XBox.<br />
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<u><span style="font-size: large;">Silas</span></u><br />
Silas just turned 7 and is in 1st grade. Of all of my kids, he is the one that I most worry about in school. However, he has surprised both Elly and me with how well he is doing. Silas underwent a rather significant physical transformation when he decided to have his hair cut short. He went from having a blond, curly mop on his head:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XM_58jh-Kjc/TugcOOA85NI/AAAAAAAAAIs/N9efuT4tBuw/s400/SilasBeforeHaircut.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XM_58jh-Kjc/TugcOOA85NI/AAAAAAAAAIs/N9efuT4tBuw/s320/SilasBeforeHaircut.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
To this:<br />
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Most of his friends didn't even recognize him after the haircut. Ariya assured us immediately afterwards that "his name is still Silas."<br />
<br />
Silas is now a cub scout and the two of us are doing that together. While I enjoy spending this time with him, I find that hanging around a bunch of 1st grade boys (whenever he has his den and pack meetings) provides quite a challenge to my patience. Seven-year old boys are wild and I have found that I don't have quite the grace for other people's out-of-control children that I have for my own.<br />
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<u><span style="font-size: large;">Ariya</span></u><br />
Ariya is 3 and is going to pre-school two days a week. She is about as cute as a little girl can be. She is also taking dance lessons and soccer lessons. While she loves both dance and soccer, she actually appears to have a lot more skill when it comes to soccer at this point. She really got into Christmas this year and that was fun to see. Elly is usually a nazi about taking the Christmas tree down as soon as possible after we have opened our presents on Christmas morning; however, Ariya's pleas to leave the tree up this year have melted her heart and it is still standing at this very moment. Here she is standing in front of the tree:<br />
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Perhaps one of the most difficult challenges of the year has been dealing with Ariya's health. While we initially thought that she was suffering from severe allergies to gluten, we're not entirely sure that's what has been going on. She has very little appetite and is constantly complaining about stomach pain. She has improved since she has been on a completely gluten-free diet, but still has times when her stomach swells up and is in pain from constipation and intestinal inflammation. What concerns us so much is that we have no idea what it is that we are dealing with and no doctor has been very helpful or interested in determining what the problem is. This has been especially hard on Elly as she tends to worry about things a lot more than I do. She (Elly) frequently has dreams or intense feelings that Ariya has cancer or some other deadly disease that is going to take her from us.<br />
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<u><span style="font-size: large;">This and That</span></u><br />
In March, we spent our Spring Break at Disney World and had an amazing time as a family. I believe it was one of those trips that my kids will never forget. We laughed and enjoyed one another so much on that vacation and will probably always compare our future family vacations to this one.<br />
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As most of you know, my faith in God is of paramount importance to me. From my perspective, I've had a very challenging time in my spiritual life where I've gone from thinking about God all the time to the last three months where I've felt very dry and distant from him. It disappoints me that I'm in this apathetic state, yet I trust that His purposes are being fulfilled in some way that I'm not privy to. I will continue to trust God with my life, with the lives of my kids, with my marriage, with my job, with my overall time and place in this world. Since I believe that God is always at work in the lives of those who trust in Him, I guess things are probably going better than I think they are.<br />
<br />
During this season when we reflect upon God coming to earth as a baby and on new beginnings, I am going to challenge myself to remember that His mercies are not only new each year, but every day I can have a fresh start being a precious child of God. Having this faith, I do believe that my life -- despite the stress, busy-ness, worries and disappointments that are always front-of-mind -- is going along just the way it should. Now that I consider all of this, I guess you could say what seemed like a tough year really was just smooth sailing.Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-87639375239275708352011-11-19T10:56:00.002-06:002011-11-19T11:00:36.250-06:00Random ThoughtsMan...Gary Pinkel.<br />
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Knowing people is nice. I saw an executive from a record company this week who gave me a CD which I'm not sure has even been released yet. It's "God's Not Dead" from DC Talk...I mean, the Newsboys. Anyway, I figured the worship album from rock groups got old years ago, but the Newsboys have one now. I must say, it is outstanding. When it hits the stores, check it out. Good stuff.<br />
<br />
Remember when I used to blog?<br />
<br />
I ran four miles this morning. The first two miles was into the wind and I was cursing the winter weather. After turning around, the last two miles were with the wind at my back and I was cursing the summer conditions. Darn wind.<br />
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I think I finally paid off my credit card balances for last Christmas and here we are. I propose to have Christmas every other year. Wouldn't that make it more special...you know, kind of like the Olympics. Besides, then I would know what it feels like to be financially solvent again. Actually, we can still have Christmas, just without the gift-giving. Gift-giving is every odd year, so as not too get too busy with presidential elections, the Olympics, my sister-in-law's birthday and all those other things which keep us on our toes during the even-numbered years. Anyone with me on this idea? (Occupy Retailers!)<br />
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Gary Gary Gary.<br />
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The next two months may be the scariest two months ever for me. My daughter turns 13 next month and in January, I turn 40. Forty! I'm too young to have a child who will be getting her driver's license in three years. I'm too young to be 40! I need some Calgon. (Or do housewives who watch daytime soaps the only ones who get the benefit of Calgon?)<br />
<br />
James or Colossians?<br />
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In case I forget to think about it next week, I want to express how thankful I am for so many things. Today as I was looking at myself in the mirror I had this weird self-awareness moment where I thought "Well, that's you. You made the cut. You got the chance to live and breathe and look at yourself in the mirror." I'm thankful for life. It's a weird thing and I don't understand anything about it, but I'm grateful that I got to be a part of the universe and history.<br />
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As I type this, I am watching my son eat (or lick) Fun Dip right now. Wow...has anything ever at one time in life seemed so amazing and now sounds totally disgusting as Fun Dip? Why yes...that would be Circus Peanuts. (No offense to all of you who still dip from time to time.)<br />
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If you are ever bored and need something to entertain you for 30 minutes, I highly recommend you find and watch the <i>Seinfeld</i> episode known as "Muffin Top." It's not one of the episodes normally talked about whenever a <i>Seinfeld</i> conversation inevitably strikes up. However, I challenge you to watch this episode and then describe everything that goes on in it to a friend in less than 40 minutes. It's a testament to Larry David, Jerry Seinfeld and the writers of that show that they were somehow able to regularly weave an unbelievable number of plot threads into a 24-minute TV show.<br />
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I bet Gary Pinkel could use some cheering up. The Muffin Top episode might just do the trick. No, on second thought, Gary just needs some Calgon.Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-87100048629785782162011-10-06T11:00:00.000-05:002011-10-06T11:00:20.320-05:00A Post About NothingAs you may have noticed, I am prone to making allusions to those things which I like. If I had to pick my absolute favorite TV show, I would without a doubt choose <i>Seinfeld</i>. (I used to hear all the time how much I looked like Jerry Seinfeld in my college days when I was super-thin and had big hair. Now that I'm older and have added some weight, people now tell me I look like Ray Romano. But that's a topic for a different time.) Anyway, <i>Seinfeld</i> satirized itself by claiming that it was "a show about nothing." And what was so stunningly brilliant by that claim was that it was basically true, yet somehow so many of those nothingisms we related to and have now transcended to become ingrained icons of our culture. For example, there is a whole episode that is centered around someone noticing Jerry picking his nose in his car while he was stopped at a traffic light. ("It wasn't a pick! It was a scratch. There was no nasal penetration!") I wish there were more TV shows about nothing.<br />
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Well, this blog post is about nothing. I thought I would sit down and write about everything that has been going through my mind of late. And here it is ... nothing ... zilch ... nada ... the big ole goose egg. I am sure it is as riveting to read such words as it was for me to type them. Just this morning my friend Dale chided me for encouraging everyone to write only for me to then go into complete radio silence mode. I figured I could just pull a Jack Nicholson and pound away on my keyboard like his character in <i>The Shining</i> but that wouldn't be very edifying (or original, for that matter).<br />
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So how's this for originality: a nothing confession and a nothing apology. If you aren't familiar with these terms, allow me to enlighten you as I demonstrate them to the best of my (full of pride) abilities.<br />
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The Nothing Confession:<br />
I confess to all the world that I have nothing. Nothing to write about. Nothing to say to people who ask me what the secret to life is. Nothing is unfortunately...no thing.<br />
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The Nothing Apology:<br />
I am sorry for not having anything to give today. Check back tomorrow. Maybe I'll have something then. For now, I'm sorry. That's all I've got.<br />
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I guess that's something.<br />
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<i>"Be still and know that I am God."</i> -Psalm 46:10Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-33376945182250423572011-09-01T18:26:00.002-05:002011-09-01T18:42:40.035-05:00Great Inventions: the Diving BoardOn July 23rd, <a href="http://joshuakezer.blogspot.com/">Josh Kezer</a> posted the following status update on Facebook:<br />
<blockquote> "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;">went swimming this evening at a Christian Fellowship Church event and dove off of a diving board for the first time in 20+ years. It was a blast. I did a flip for the first time ever, followed by more, tried and failed at several attempts of half backward flips and dives, face planted even more with flips and twists that the body wasn't built to do and loved every minute of it. Thank God I'm a free man."</span></blockquote>As I read Josh's status, I was gripped by the gratitude that I have for my freedom ... and for that matter, diving boards. To get a better appreciation of why this was such a big deal for Josh, I recommend that you visit <a href="http://joshuakezer.blogspot.com/">his blog</a> and read his story.<br />
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Everyone should have the chance to jump off a diving board. There is a magical sense of anticipation as you are thrown up into the air, momentarily suspended, with various body parts moving in different directions as momentum, and then gravity, carry you to the inevitable destination -- the pool of water that breaks the fall of the diver. I have spent countless hours honing my acrobatic skills as I have attempted an assortment of different dives over the years. My wife likes telling a story that I tried to impress her before she even knew me by performing a gainer while she was visiting the neighborhood swimming pool. (Pure fiction I say! Well, the gainer part was most likely true, but not the part about me only doing it to impress her.) I now enjoy watching my two sons delight in the fun as they dive, front flip, back flip, barrel roll, cannonball, can opener, twist, watermelon, pencil, etc. off the board and into the pool.<br />
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Freedom is one of those things that you normally don't think of having until you no longer have it. Many people choose to never jump off a diving board or frolic in a swimming pool and I love that they have the freedom to make such a choice. However, Josh was denied that opportunity for a large portion of his life. He knows more about freedom than I ever will. And I love how on this particular occasion he enjoyed his freedom with the use of a diving board.<br />
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I did not get to see Josh flip, somersault, smile and laugh as he recklessly sprung from the board that day, but I know it was a beautiful thing to see. As summer comes to a close, I might make one more trip to the swimming pool. If I do, I'm going to make a point of enjoying my freedom. I'll also take a leap off of the diving board. Since I no longer need to impress the ladies; Josh, this next gainer is for you.Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-37043064131807491912011-08-30T13:41:00.000-05:002011-08-30T13:41:01.771-05:00Wishy-Washy (and proud of it!)Is there anyone more detestable than a certified "flake"? You know what I mean -- the wishy-washy sort who appears a certain way in one group of people and then acts completely different in another setting. Or what about that person who appears to not have a developed opinion on anything? ("Gee...I don't know...I'm just not sure about that...what do you think?") These people drive me crazy!<br />
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Wait a minute...I might be one of those people. Well, not quite like that, but I do reserve the right to change my mind at any time on any given matter. I have opinions, but I frequently change them. Knowing this, it's typically a prudent measure to not be so openly opinionated. Otherwise, I look foolish and not one to be taken seriously if I change my opinions as often as I change my underwear. (Hmmmm, perhaps having a blog isn't such a good idea after all.)<br />
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N. T. Wright in his book <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Justification-Gods-Plan-Pauls-Vision/dp/0830838635/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1311449822&sr=8-1">Justification</a></i> explaining why he has written a book to respond to his critics:<br />
<blockquote>"And, critics please note, I do not expect to remain unchanged through that process. I am not defending against all comers a fortress called the new perspective. I hope not just to make things clearer than I have done before, but to see things clearer than I have done before as a result of having had to articulate it all once more. Perhaps if I succeed in seeing things more clearly I may succeed in saying them more clearly as well." (page 28)</blockquote>I appreciate Wright's humility in stating that he is going to stick to his guns, but does not expect to remain unchanged in doing so. I find this to be an admirable position to take and one I hope to emulate as I formulate my own opinions on weighty matters.<br />
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"Wishy-washy" sounds so bad. But what is the opposite of being wishy-washy? Stubborn -- also a very negative adjective to describe one's personality. Is there a middle ground between the two that would be marginally more respectable?<br />
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I have flip-flopped on so many issues in just the last year that I am beginning to worry about my sanity. For example, I used to bristle anytime the theological topics of predestination and/or Calvinism were brought up in my presence. After some study, I came to a point where I embraced those very concepts that had previously frustrated me. Lo and behold, I am now questioning those things again (albeit for much different reasons than before).<br />
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My pastor once told me that I had my whole life to love my wife, and that loving her over the long haul would involve learning more about her each and every day. Whether it be loving your spouse or following Jesus, I do not believe we are ever going to figure out the perfect way of doing these things. As many people now like to say, it is a journey. We learn and even in that, I believe that learning is a process. Just because we may have learned something wrong at one point does not mean that there was no benefit or nothing to learn from it. On the contrary, it is those things which we are in the dark about that pushes us to grow (even if we don't realize we are in the dark).<br />
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I hope to grow, to learn, to move from one place in life to another with the freedom and courage to let go of those things which are keeping me in a more static state. I know I am susceptible to pride and arrogance. These are the qualities which lead me to believe that I have things figured out when I'm nowhere close to the truth of the matter. I want to throw off stubbornness and put on humility. I think I'll just be proud of the fact that I am now wishy-washy.<br />
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Oops. Oh well...<br />
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Bibliography: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Justification-Gods-Plan-Pauls-Vision/dp/0830838635/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1311449822&sr=8-1">Justification</a>; <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Velvet-Elvis-Repainting-Christian-Faith/dp/0310273080/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1314728837&sr=8-1">Velvet Elvis</a>Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-9574018530804207192011-07-30T09:13:00.000-05:002011-07-30T09:13:03.340-05:00Everyone Should Write, Part 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ow8VuElUG9k/TjMUbfT0RoI/AAAAAAAAACU/dknYY52MWiQ/s1600/Blogging.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ow8VuElUG9k/TjMUbfT0RoI/AAAAAAAAACU/dknYY52MWiQ/s320/Blogging.JPG" width="201" /></a></div><br />
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To blog, or not to blog? That is the question.<br />
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Well, it is a question, but it is hardly <i>the</i> question. Last week, I opined that <a href="http://amindfullofmudpuddles.blogspot.com/2011/07/everyone-should-write.html">Everyone Should Write</a>. Due to wonderful feedback from a number of different sources, I thought I would follow that post up with some additional thoughts (and questions).<br />
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In trying to explain how writing and starting this blog have been beneficial to me, I felt I was a bit bumbling with my reasons. Thankfully, my good friend Steve Brooks came to the rescue by providing a comment which so eloquently (and succinctly) put into words precisely what I wish I had said:<br />
<blockquote>"I have found that the more I write the more I think. Then not only does it spur me to think more, it spurs me to think deeper and lastly to consider the importance of thinking correctly."</blockquote><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f6b26b; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>Writing → Thinking → Better Thinking</i></span></div><br />
I then saw Steve at church where he grabbed me and very briefly encouraged me to expand my thinking where this blog was concerned. I only remember him saying one word -- posterity. (This reinforced the sentiment that <a href="http://www.serenitybohon.com/">Serenity</a> raised in her comment following the same post.)<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f6b26b; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>posterity → future generations</i></span></div><br />
Writing is not a new thing for me. I write all the time. However, almost all of it is done in the course of my profession as an estate planning lawyer. I draft wills, trusts, powers of attorney and the like. People come to me, tell me what they have and then tell me who they want to have what they have when they themselves can no longer have it. But when I read "I, Theodore Lougash, give all that I have to my nephew, Samuel L. Chilifoot", what do I really know about Mr. Lougash? And what does the nephew really get except for "stuff"? Surely someone with such an interesting name as Theodore Lougash had something more than just a house and money in the bank. What was important to Mr. Lougash? What did he know? How did he know what he knew? Getting an inheritance of money and property is nice, but you can't put a price tag on inheriting wisdom, character and glimpses into the very soul of someone you loved.<br />
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Which brings me back to writing. Every word that you write may be precious gold to your children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. What better place to start passing on your know-how to your digital-age descendants than a blog?<br />
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I'm pretty new to the blogosphere, so I'm still figuring things out. I would love to hear from those of you who have been blogging for a while. When you blog, how do you go about doing it?<br />
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My blogging hero is Michelle Hodge. She is easily the most prolific blogger I know. I would link her blog if I could, but it is so top-secret that only a select few are allowed to even see it. That's how good it is! Michelle has a full-time job, but must spend her other waking hours either taking pictures of her four young children or writing on her blog (which is about the successes, failures, joys and frustrations that she and her husband face raising their kids). Michelle, if you are reading this, keep up the good work! But really, how do you do it?<br />
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For the rest of you mere mortals, how do you approach your blog? Are you active or passive in your blogging? (Active meaning that you are always on the lookout for something to write about. Passive being content to not write anything unless something grabs you, whenever that may be.) Do you just post pictures of your kids or do you also share the fun stories that accompany the cute photos?<br />
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I like the blog dashboard here at Blogspot. I enjoy working on ten different things at a time, depending on whatever mood I may be in. There are posts which I have spent lots of time on, but have never published. Much of my inspiration comes from the books that I read or the spiritual issues that I find myself trying to figure out. As Steve so astutely pointed out, writing about the things that have formed mud puddles in my mind greatly assists the thinking process. I see that as an immediately tangible benefit.<br />
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The real benefit is what I am providing for future generations, knowing that even the mundane may be seen as fascinating for those who see the 20th century as being ancient history. Kids, this is your inheritance. Enjoy!Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-19682268589529736062011-07-27T20:18:00.000-05:002011-07-28T11:54:04.538-05:00Who is Brett Barton?This post is about me. (I guess in a way every post on this blog is about me, but this one is <i>really</i> about me.) I thought it might be fun to introduce myself, in all of my idiosyncratic glory (or infamy -- I'll let you decide).<br />
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I really have no idea who reads this blog, but have assumed that most of you who find your way here from time to time are either family or close friends who already know quite a bit about me. While I'm far from being the most interesting person in the world, I can't help but think that there are some unique things about me that you probably don't know.<br />
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Here goes nothing. I submit to you <b>Brett Barton: Biases, Books, Beer, Beaches and Balls</b>. (If you've been browsing my blog, you should already be aware of my fondness for alliteration as well as my disdain for the Oxford comma.) (Oh...I also have a penchant for parenthetical tangents.)<br />
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<u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Biases</span></u><br />
The first thing you should know about me is that if something becomes super-popular before I have watched it, read it, heard about it, etc., then I am biased against it. This bias is so strong that there is usually no point trying to overcome it. I first realized this when I was 14 years old. The movie Top Gun had just been released and everyone that I knew kept telling me "You have GOT to see this movie. It is the best movie EVER!" Every time one of my friends wanted to talk about things like geese, kilmers, volleyballs, Berlin, wing men and losing that lovin' feelin', I had less desire to see this movie. I had one friend who went to the movie in the early afternoon and liked it so much that when he came out of the theater, he got back in line to buy a ticket for the next showing of it. When he told me that I just HAD to see it, I remember thinking something along these lines: "I'm sure of it. I hate it." (Let me know if you get the irony in that last quote.)<br />
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My taste in music is very peculiar. I hate "pop" music. Actually, that's not true. I do like lots of what was once pop music, but only after it becomes unpopular to the point of ridicule. But whatever is playing on the radio right now that everyone is loving, I don't like it. Bring back the synthesized sound of the 80's and 90's and the hair metal bands with the guys who sound (and look) like girls! Sure it sounds dated, but gosh...it's great music. It warms my heart that my son listens to the likes of Boston, Def Leppard, Kansas and Bon Jovi. I also love progressive rock, which more than likely won't mean anything to you as it's a genre that most people stay away from. It is about as unpopular as good music can get.<br />
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Other biases: against smoking, against narcotics (except for Mountain Dew) and against household pets (we have 3 of them).<br />
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<u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Books</span></u><br />
I love to read. My parents encouraged me to read from a young age. However, I credit my aunt Karen for getting me going by giving me two Hardy Boys books as a Christmas present which I read and loved. After reading those two books, I read the entire Hardy Boys hardback series (all 58 of them). I became such an aficionado of the Hardy Boys that at the age of 9, I could tell you the name of every single book along with its corresponding number in the series. If that weren't enough, I still know them 30 years later. Every now and then my kids will quiz me just to make sure I still have it. ("Dad, what's #19?" Me: "Too easy, <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Disappearing-Floor-Hardy-Boys-Book/dp/044808919X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1311451477&sr=1-1">The Disappearing Floor</a></i>." I'm sure this information will prove to come in handy some day.)<br />
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It took me a little over 3 months to read the entire Bible at the age of 12. I started my first journal soon after that which I have kept current to the present day. It is a reading log in which I record every book that I have read. (This has come in handy for those times when I'm at the library and a particular cover catches my eye. I'll grab the book, take it home, start reading and if it seems vaguely familiar, I can just check the trusty reading journal to see if it's a book I've read before.)<br />
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I love most genres and would list my favorite authors as John Steinbeck, Ernest Hemingway, Michael Crichton, James Clavell, George R. R. Martin, Orson Scott Card and Malcolm Gladwell. Due to my bias mentioned above, I have never read anything written by John Grisham. I also resisted reading Harry Potter, but finally read the first book and was not impressed. Lord of the Rings? Read all three of them. Blah, blah and blah.<br />
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<u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Beer</span></u><br />
I love beer, as long as it's not mass-produced (there's that bias again). I guess I'm just a snob. When it comes to beer, I am a huge snob. There's nothing like kicking back and reading a not-too-popular book while drinking a not-too-popular beer with some not-too-popular music playing in the background.<br />
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<u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Beaches</span></u><br />
Everyone loves going to the beach. Not me. It's okay, I guess. Maybe I've just had bad luck. Our family took two vacations to Destin, Florida in 2004 and 2005. Our 2004 trip can be described in two words: Hurricane Ivan. Our 2005 trip can also be described in two words: Hurricane Katrina (ever heard of it?). No more beach vacations for the Bartons! Give me the mountains of Colorado while the rest of you deal with sun burn and sand in your butt.<br />
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<u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Balls</span></u><br />
I grew up with a love of sports. I loved playing football, basketball and soccer as a young child. However, I wasn't fast. I wasn't strong. I wasn't tall. And after I went through my growth spurt at age 14, I still wasn't fast, strong or tall. I was slow. I was six feet tall weighing 140 pounds. I was a fiery competitor which greatly helped compensate for my lack of athletic prowess, but not to the point where I was ever really good at a sport. I was merely competitive (which is a nice way of saying that I was a decent loser). I so badly wanted to be good at something. I finally found some success in three different sports.<br />
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In March of 1986, my dad and I went on a ski trip to Telluride, Colorado. We spent four days on this wonderful mountain. The first two days were spent taking beginners' lessons. The third day we ventured out on our own to ski other beginner runs beyond the "bunny hill." The fourth day we actually went to the top of the mountain and skied the whole way down on an intermediate trail. I fell in love with everything about snow skiing on this trip. (Take that, beaches!) We had the opportunity to go to Telluride again the very next year. I was excited to return to see if I had improved any from my first trip. You see, I had been training and was hoping to see if all of my hard work had paid off.<br />
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My dad had given me a <a href="http://www.sybervision.com/Skiing/index.htm">high-tech video</a> for Christmas which promised amazing improvement for people who wanted to become better skiers. All one had to do was watch the video and then visualizing himself executing the same flawless turns and techniques that the professional skiers on the video were doing. I so desperately wanted to be a better skier, so I faithfully watched the video almost every single day for the three months leading up to that second ski trip to Colorado. Like I said, I trained hard. Would you believe that it worked?!? I had transformed from a snowplowing traverse skier to an aggressive parallel skier willing to take on any run just from watching a video over and over again and believing that it was me skiing on that video. The darn thing worked and I found something that I was really good at. It was great.<br />
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Before I was a snow skier, I was a ping-pong player. I grew up with a ping-pong table in my house. I would play my friends at times, but my primary opponent and arch-nemesis was my dad. When it came to ping-pong, he was merciless. He was also pretty good (like me, having grown up with a table in his home playing against his dad). At the age of 10, I entered a Ping-Pong tournament that was put on by the Christian school that I was attending at the time. Any and all students of the school from Kindergarten to 12th grade were allowed to play. Having gone up against my dad numerous times, I had some decent experience and figured that I would win a few games even though I was much younger than most of the other competitors. As it turned out, I kept winning and winning knocking off kids who were seniors in high school while I was just in the 5th grade. I made it to the championship and was squared off against a girl who was a junior in high school (who, oddly enough, sometimes reads this blog). It was an epic battle but I took the "best of 5" championship by winning 3 games to 1. I was crowned champion of the entire school and loved the sweet taste of success in an unlikely sport, but a sport nonetheless.<br />
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My ping-pong career did not end there. As an adult, I have played table tennis tournaments in such exotic locales as Atlanta, Chicago and Wichita. I have brought home trophies and medals which are now gathering dust in some out-of-the-way cabinet or closet. I have practiced against a ping-pong robot. I have built my own paddles and am still willing to take on anyone that challenges my table tennis superiority.<br />
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If you're not strong and fast enough to play football or not tall enough to play basketball, don't be afraid to look elsewhere. Snow skiing is great, but is definitely not cheap and not easily accessible if you live in the Midwest like I do. Ping-pong is more accessible and not as expensive, but you better get along well with Asians if you want to play. And then there is running. All you need is a pair of shoes and a stretch of road.<br />
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I made a New Year's resolution to begin running on a regular basis in the year 2005. That became the most successful New Year's resolution I ever made. I began running in January. In February, my friend Bill encouraged me to sign up for a race. In March, I ran that race -- a 5K (3.1 miles). In April, I ran a 5K three minutes faster than I ran the one in March. In May, I decided to run a marathon (26.2 miles). In October, I did just that. It was a great experience and I'll never forget the feeling I had when I crossed the finish line with tears in my eyes on that fall day in Chicago. (It was made even more dramatic when I found out 20 minutes later that my beautiful wife finished as well, despite not having run at all for the two weeks leading up to the marathon due to a knee injury.) That about sums up my accomplishments in the world of sports.<br />
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Okay, enough about me! I'd love for you to comment and tell me what unique things make you unique. In the meantime, I'll be enjoying a Boddington's beer while I plan my next vacation to the mountains. I wonder if the Aspen Holiday Inn has a ping-pong table?Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-3461760871619803372011-07-22T07:14:00.000-05:002011-07-25T08:12:37.050-05:00Everyone Should WriteI just finished running with two of my closest friends in the world. I used to be a hard-core runner, but have completely fallen off the wagon. Now I'm trying my best to get back to it because I am grossly out of shape. But on this particular morning, I was running just so that I could hang out with <a href="http://welldrawer.blogspot.com/">Mike</a> and Dale. I've run a lot of miles with these guys. I was there to watch both of them complete their first marathons (different races, mind you) and swelled with pride as they crossed the finish line knowing that they had spent many of their miles training for those races with me. Over the years of traversing the roads, paths and parks of Columbia, we have bonded and become great friends.<br />
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As they ran off into the hideously hot and humid morning air leaving me behind to reminisce about the glory days when I could run for longer than 30 minutes at a time, I realized that both of them blessed me this morning by sharing some of their own random observations about life. It's good to have friends like this. Words are exchanged and I come away encouraged and challenged. It's a shame I have to get up at 4:30 AM on the hottest morning of the year to reap these benefits. These guys should do me a favor and start a blog so that I can tap into their wisdom whenever the mood strikes me. Don't they realize how much we could all benefit from their unique insights?<br />
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Hmmmm. (that's the sound I make when I am thinking)<br />
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We are all unique. We all have different experiences and have learned different lessons over the course of our very different lives. Do you know what this means? Well, it means a lot of things. For purposes of this particular mud puddle, it means that you know something that no one else does. You may be unknowingly holding the key to unlocking the mystery that I have been struggling with for the last 20 years. (Highly unlikely, since I'm not aware of any mystery that I've been dealing with for that long. Except for understanding women. And we all know there is no key to that mystery. Anyway, you get the point.)<br />
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Why aren't you sharing what you know with the rest of us? Some of us obsessive-compulsive types really are interested in hearing what you have to say. If it's nothing new under the sun, no harm done. If it's a glimpse into a new way of thinking, that's a very beautiful thing.<br />
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I have found that I enjoy having a blog. I have tried to pinpoint what it is that I like about writing and sharing my thoughts in a forum such as this. It could be that I am just looking for affirmation and wanting pats on the back (who wouldn't want that?); yet I believe it is more than that.<br />
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I <i>think</i> I know things. (Gosh, I hate the way that sounds. It sounds so arrogant.)<br />
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Arrogant or not, it's what I think. I'm not completely sure that I know anything, but as long as I think I know some things I'll keep talking about them just in case someone else hasn't thought about them before. I enjoy that. I enjoy the conversation and talking about matters that I've never talked about and thinking along lines previously foreign to me.<br />
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All of this to say that I wish everyone would at a minimum write, whether it be in a personal journal, public memoir or blog such as this. Putting thoughts and abstract ideas into written words is a wonderful discipline that will always benefit the writer himself (or herself) and might just benefit everyone who has the opportunity to read those words that are shared. Seeing the world through a different pair of eyes is precious and profound.<br />
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Think about it. Write about it. Dale and <a href="http://welldrawer.blogspot.com/">Mike</a>, you too.Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-48436205194045878012011-07-20T17:11:00.000-05:002011-07-23T15:59:17.222-05:00It Is Finished. Love Won.A good friend of mine encouraged me to read <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Love-Wins-About-Heaven-Person/dp/006204964X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1309294142&sr=8-1">Love Wins</a></em>. I had never heard of it, nor had I heard of the author -- Rob Bell. Little did I know that when I picked up that book and started reading that I would be picking up a live hand grenade. So what do I do after it blew up in my face? I pick up another hand grenade, pull the pin and begin this blog entry.<br />
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<i>Love Wins</i> is a great book. I honestly don't know how much of it I actually agree with, but that does not diminish the power of the ideas which are expressed therein. This book made a dramatic impression on me, but of paramount significance were these two ideas:<br />
<ol><li>When Jesus said "It is finished!", He did it. He conquered sin and death. He conquered all sin and all death as He was the perfect sacrifice perfectly satisfying the perfect wrath of God (Romans 5:18); and</li>
<li>There is no fear in love (I John 4:18).</li>
</ol><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"It is finished!"</span></b></div><div><b><br />
</b></div><div>What a mind-blowing idea that Jesus' death completely satisfied the righteous wrath of a holy God. Jesus took all of the punishment. God has been forever appeased. Can this be true? There is something very compelling about this possibility despite many arguing that such an idea does not stand up to the words of scripture. This could be the unifying theory which brings together the best of Calvinistic, Arminian and Covenant thinking.</div><div><br />
</div><div>For me, this makes Jesus more beautiful. It makes his death more amazing. It makes his resurrection more victorious. It makes the good news...GREAT! Jesus did it all. It is finished. He really is the way, the truth, the life! He did it.<br />
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Could this be the truth that sets us free to act out of love and not out of obligation or a sense of duty? The pressure we put on ourselves to do the right thing...that was finished. The guilt we feel for messing up...that was finished. The fear that God is upset with us for not measuring up...that was finished. There is NO REASON to live with those hang-ups...NONE! They are finished! Do you believe this? Can you believe this? Are you afraid to believe this? Stop it! It is finished. There is no fear in love.<br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"There is no fear in love."</span></b><br />
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Put on your ruby slippers and tap your heels together and say this over and over until you actually believe it and understand all of its ramifications.<br />
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There is no fear in love.<br />
There is no fear in love.<br />
There is no fear in love.<br />
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Paul said it this way: "There is no condemnation..." Why do we religious-types fall into fear-based, condemnation-based thinking so easily? Judging from the apostles' letters, this was a problem in the early church as well. Perfect love is a difficult thing to grasp, but that's exactly what we get from Jesus. We say we believe it, but our continual striving and self-torment suggest otherwise.<br />
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We love to accuse others and even ourselves, yet the Bible has nothing good to say about accusers. The Bible actually says that when Jesus said "It is finished," he crushed the head of the accuser. Accusations bring death. Those things are finished.<br />
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We learned in the old way to fear a holy God. Enter Jesus, the very love of God, providing a new and living way to be holy, yet without fear. There is no fear...no torment...no reason to condemn, judge, accuse ourselves or anyone else. When we are freed of fear, we are free to love and act out of that love. I would argue that those who operate out of love experience a level of joy and peace that seems unattainable for those who operate out of fear, duty or obligation.<br />
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This is the effect Bell's book had on me. The doctrinal questions that are sure to arise with some of these ideas don't trouble me. I realize that they might trouble others and I can respect that. For me, I believe that I need to embrace a fear-free, condemnation-free posture before God. If you feel that you wrestle with fear and have trouble believing that you are a beloved child of God, I recommend that you read <i>Love Wins</i>. Now don't forget, you might be picking up a hand grenade. But don't be afraid; there is no fear in love.<br />
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Bibliography: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Love-Wins-About-Heaven-Person/dp/006204964X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1311196595&sr=8-1">Love Wins</a></div>Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-17538299367076928492011-07-08T21:46:00.000-05:002011-07-11T07:44:12.136-05:00Is this Blog Depressing?Not too long ago, my mom told me that she had been reading my blog and was worried because she thought I came across as being depressed. I'm not qualified to provide a self-diagnosis of the health of my psyche, so I honestly don't know if I am depressed or not.<br />
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What I do know is that I love and am loved.<br />
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I love.<br />
I am loved.<br />
(But not necessarily in that order -- a topic for a future posting to this blog.)<br />
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When I think about this, I am convinced that this is all I've ever wanted. So how could I be depressed or even appear to be wallowing in my own mud puddles?<br />
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I love and am loved. Yet I stress, I feel pain, I get angry, I inflict pain on others, I fail when I have the opportunity to succeed and I experience disappointment when there is no good reason to be disappointed.<br />
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Is that depression? Nope. I'd like to think of it as honesty. And the honest truth is that I am still hoping for that thing that I'm not even sure what it is. The Apostle Paul explains it like this:<br />
<blockquote>"But we also who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves still groan within ourselves, eagerly waiting for the adoption, the redemption of our body. For we were saved in this hope, but hope that is seen is not hope; for why does one still hope for what he sees?" (Romans 8:23-24)</blockquote> I don't want this blog to be depressing. I want it to always point to hope. That's what I'm doing. I am blessed, yet I still groan. I eagerly wait. I hope.<br />
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Bibliography: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Surprised-Hope-Rethinking-Resurrection-Mission/dp/0061551821/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1310179428&sr=8-1">Surprised by Hope</a>Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-49362481141914059232011-07-06T18:25:00.000-05:002011-07-06T18:25:35.884-05:00The Irony of Evolution: Miss USAIn the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form, and void since there was no YouTube nor any beauty contestants to set the record straight. But now...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/UkBmhM0R2A0?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
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The above video unlocks the mysteries of the universe. Actually, it shows all 51 contestants in the recent Miss USA pageant and their answers to the question of whether evolution should be taught in schools. While the video is 15 minutes long, the good stuff begins at the 40 second mark and is worth viewing to see at least a few of the responses.<br />
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Beauty pageants, like everything else, have become extremely competitive affairs. The young women who compete are trained to be able to discuss a wide range of topics and have developed opinions on many of society's problems. It is pretty clear in this video that most of them were NOT prepared to answer this question. As a result, it is painful watching these ladies as they try to at least speak in complete sentences as their minds are racing to come up with something that will appeal to the masses while maintaining their controlled, spokesmodel exterior.<br />
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As much as I enjoy some good post-pageant analysis, that's not why I am writing this blog post. I want to talk about evolution. Until I saw this video, I had no idea that evolution was still a touchy subject. Frankly, I have no problem with evolution as it encapsulates the current thinking of the majority of the world's most brilliant scientists.<br />
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What do I know about evolution? Nothing, really. I only know what I have been taught and what I have read on the subject. It appears that there is enough evidence to support the theory, while acknowledging there is much that is still unknown (for example, <a href="http://www.isepp.org/Pages/San%20Jose%2004-05/MargulisSaganSJ.html">recent studies</a> have challenged the longstanding notion that evolution occurs through random mutation and genetic drift).<br />
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Yes, you heard me correctly. I have no beef with evolution. It is a well-conceived explanation for a great many observable parts of the universe in which we live. I do, however, question some of the conclusions that are drawn as a result of evolution. That's because I feel like there are many scientists who can't help but overstep their area of expertise and think they know more than they really do about the subject they are passionate about. I believe that many Christians do the same, especially when it comes to their views on science in general, and evolution in particular. The Miss USA pageant video is a perfect example of this.<br />
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My take on this is that much of Christendom (at least here in America) has developed an irrational mistrust of science since many of the popular scientists of the last century have been outspoken in their agnostic or atheistic beliefs. Even more problematic, though, is the view that the first two chapters of Genesis are a literal, scientific description of how the world came into existence. I understand why some people hold that view, but I think the appropriate response when shown credible evidence to the contrary is <b>not</b> to summarily dismiss any alternative explanation or interpretation. Instead, I would submit that one should do what the Apostle Paul encourages the Thessalonians to do when he tells them to "test all things." (I Thessalonians 5:21)<br />
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I would submit that scientific discovery should be embraced as it helps us better understand not only God and the universe He has created, but also the very words of the Bible. I would encourage you to look into these things with an open mind and an open heart. For those of you who believe in God as I do, you should agree with me that God, in His infinite power and wisdom, could have created the universe and everything in it instantly. He instead chose to create things over time.<br />
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Here is what I currently believe on this subject:<br />
<ol><li>I believe that the Bible is <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Biblical_inerrancy">inerrant</a>.</li>
<li>I believe in the Big Bang.</li>
<li>I believe that the planet Earth is approximately 5 billion years old.</li>
<li>I believe that God has created all things and that He was pleased with His creation. </li>
<li>I believe that God has ordained natural forces and processes such as evolution to populate our planet with life.</li>
<li>I believe these things from studying scripture and studying scientific discoveries in the areas of geology, biology, anthropology and astronomy.</li>
</ol><br />
Back to the original question that was presented to the Miss USA contestants: Should evolution be taught in schools?<br />
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Sure! Why not?<br />
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I find it to be a strong scientific theory with as much supporting evidence as just about everything else that is taught in school these days. Until a better explanation comes along, I have no problem with evolution being taught in schools. Perhaps if I was prettier and looked good in a bikini, I might think differently.<br />
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Bibliography: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Acquiring-Genomes-Theory-Origins-Species/dp/0465043925/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1309920689&sr=8-1">Acquiring Genomes</a>; <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Genesis-Question-Scientific-Advances-Accuracy/dp/1576832309/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1309908969&sr=8-1">The Genesis Question</a>; <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Finding-Darwins-God-Scientists-Evolution/dp/0061233501/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1309979420&sr=8-1">Finding Darwin's God</a>; <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Language-God-Scientist-Presents-Evidence/dp/1416542744/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1309979482&sr=1-1">The Language of God</a>Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-50742844746174740732011-07-04T14:27:00.000-05:002011-07-04T17:30:34.073-05:00For They Know Not What They Do<u>WARNING</u>: the following blog entry contains more musings on God, Jesus, the Bible, theology and the like. Read on at your own risk.<br />
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<strong>"Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do." (Luke 23:34)</strong><br />
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This utterance appears only in the Gospel of Luke with nothing similar recorded in the other three gospel texts. Not only that, this particular sentence does not even appear in the earliest Greek manuscripts of the New Testament, but was determined to be a worthy inclusion in the canon of scripture as it was found in most of the copies of Luke's gospel that were distributed out to the early churches and is reinforced in other passages (<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Acts%203:17-18&version=NKJV">Acts 3:17-18</a>; <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1%20Timothy%201:12-13&version=NKJV">I Timothy 1:12-13</a>). <br />
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Meditating on this verse has been refreshing, rewarding; yet at the same time, confusing. Of late, I've been questioning the theological concept of limited atonement (or as some would call it -- particular redemption). Limited atonement is the <a href="http://www.apocalipsis.org/reformed.htm">Reformed</a> view that Jesus' death only redeemed the sins of those chosen by God to be ultimately saved. Wayne Grudem in his <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Systematic-Theology-Introduction-Biblical-Doctrine/dp/0310286700">Systematic Theology</a></em> explains that Reformed theologians come to this conclusion for the following reason:<br />
<blockquote>If Christ's death actually paid for the sins of every person who ever lived, then there is no penalty left for <em>anyone</em> to pay, and it necessarily follows that all people will be saved, without exception. For God could not condemn to eternal punishment anyone whose sins are already paid for: that would be demanding double payment, and it would therefore be unjust.</blockquote>Luke's verse highlighted above does not mesh well with the idea that Jesus did not love all or was only willing to die for the elect. For here, Jesus is clearly asking God to forgive the very people who brought about his unjust crucifixion and grisly death. Not only that, he appears to be offering up a valid excuse for their sin in that they did not realize and understand what it was that they were doing. He is playing the role of advocate (see <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1%20John%202:1-2&version=NKJV">I John 2:1-2</a>) for the very people who are acting out of unbelief. I find this to be a very interesting glimpse into the heart of Jesus.<br />
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This leads me to ask a number of semi-rhetorical questions.<br />
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What would Jesus' motive be in asking God to forgive a rather large group of people who do not appear to be part of the salvation plan? Is this a one-time exception-to-the-rule type of desire on the part of Jesus? Or does this idea affirm what Paul wrote to Timothy that the Savior "desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth"? (I Timothy 2:4).<br />
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Will God honor Jesus' request? (Surely He would, based upon what we know of the Trinity. <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=John%205:19&version=NKJV">John 5:19</a>) If so, would not God always forgive in similar circumstances? For God is never arbitrary, never capricious, never inconsistent, as far as we can understand those concepts in light of the Ultimate. (Please know, I am not trying to draw lines and put God in a box to win an argument or to sway anyone to think in a certain way. On the contrary, I'm trying to stretch my own mind to grasp just a little more of the unbelievableness that is the Divine.)<br />
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If Jesus wants to forgive those who brought about his death, and in fact does so, is this forgiveness limited to this particular sin or does it extend to all of the sins committed out of ignorance by this class of people? Or perhaps such a forgiveness of sins even wipes the whole slate clean at that point? How often does God forgive when there is no repentance and no request for forgiveness?<br />
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There are no good answers to these questions. (If you disagree, please feel free to comment and contribute to the discussion.) My guess is that an appropriate analysis would show that this addition to Luke's gospel is not about who gets saved and whose sins are forgiven, but instead about the undeniable compassion of Jesus; yet I feel like there is something more going on here. This is the heart of Jesus, not just in an isolated incident (though it was a rather momentous incident), but an indication of his desire that all would be forgiven. It's a fairly scandalous idea.<br />
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As I have contemplated these things, my initial conclusion is that Jesus is more incredible than I previously thought. (Always a solid conclusion to come to!) However, I cannot put into words (or even a coherent thought) precisely <em>why</em> I have come to such a conclusion. The only way I can think to describe it is this: limited atonement makes Jesus look smaller.<br />
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When the Apostle Paul wrote that <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Romans%205:20-21&version=NKJV">grace abounded much more</a>, I think he was talking about something really amazing -- so amazing that even in our best theological constructs we are unable to grasp what really happened when Jesus died on the cross. Even as I type this, my heart burns and I wonder if this is anything like what those two disciples felt when they unknowingly traveled with the resurrected Savior.<br />
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In conclusion, I would submit that the doctrine of limited atonement is lacking in a very fundamental way. While it is a view that has some scriptural support, it is also based upon logic in its attempt to describe something which is more than likely indescribable. (That's not to say that I think we should all throw up our hands and say: "What's the point in trying to figure all this stuff out?" I believe we should continue to search the scriptures and plead with the Holy Spirit to unlock the truths contained therein.) Where I find fault with this doctrine is that it reeks of exclusion and limitation -- two things which in my humble opinion should never be applied to Jesus when it comes to his saving grace.<br />
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I believe the gospel message really is good news. In fact, it is the proclamation of news so amazingly good, it can be difficult to believe. Jesus himself was the agent which made this good news a reality. He must increase. He must always increase. Surely there must be a better explanation than to exclude and place limits on the ultimate effects of what certainly had to have been the perfect sacrifice.<br />
<blockquote>But we see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels, for the suffering of death crowned with glory and honor, that He, by the grace of God, might taste death for everyone. (Hebrews 2:9)</blockquote><u>A CHALLENGE</u>: I am not a theologian, but in this post I have made a number of theological statements. I welcome debate and would love to be shown the errors (if any) that I have made here. Please comment with any objections, affirmations or anything in between, that we may all be edified.<br />
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Bibliography: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Love-Wins-About-Heaven-Person/dp/006204964X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1309807404&sr=8-1">Love Wins</a>; <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Systematic-Theology-Introduction-Biblical-Doctrine/dp/0310286700/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1309807444&sr=1-1">Systematic Theology</a>Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-89152200082761354102011-06-24T13:02:00.000-05:002011-06-24T13:09:31.131-05:00Why I'm Not a Trapeze ArtistI'd like to think I'm a daredevil and willing to do lots of wild and crazy things....but only if I don't have to rely on someone else when my neck is on the line. Delegating duties that I deem important also does not come easily for me as I fear that no one else will attach the same level of significance to that which needs to be done.<br />
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Circus people amaze me. Some of them put their heads into the gaping jaws of a lion. Do they really trust the lion that much? That's crazy! The trapeze artists are just as certifiable by swinging on a bar at a dizzying height only to let go in hopes that someone else holding onto a bar with their legs will catch them. No way could I ever do that. I would never trust the other person to that degree. Good thing I went to college.<br />
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Trusting is hard. Trusting someone else with your life is very hard. And then there's the real reason I've never really trusted anyone or anything -- I have never felt like I needed to.<br />
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Until now.<br />
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It took me almost 40 years of living to come to the end of the road that is me and my own strength. I ignored all the Dead End signs along the way (thinking they applied to everyone else and not me) and here I am. This stinks. I'll be honest -- this REALLY stinks! What a nice feeling it was thinking that there was something special about me that would always come through in a pinch.<br />
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Where is the magic now? Where is all the bravado and brash confidence? Where is the fancy footwork that always got me out of a jam in times past? What happened? Did I make a wrong turn somewhere?<br />
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I thought I had sufficiently credited God by thanking Him for giving me material wealth, a decent intellect and nice family and friends to share life with. But now I'm in this place where the blessings have faded from sight and I'm having to...what exactly? Trust something even more abstract and elusive than earthly blessings? Believe that there is something out there so different from me and my own abilities that knows what I need and is willing to do something about it?<br />
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Why does this seem so hard? I guess if it was so easy and came naturally, we would not need to be told to "Trust in the LORD...and lean not on your own understanding" (Proverbs 3:5). We can play all sorts of mental gymnastics to think we are trusting God, but if any of that "trust" is as a result of some part that we played or desperately holding on to some confidence in ourselves and not realizing just how broken and pathetic we really are, then I don't believe we are there quite yet. This is the war that is being fought between the Spirit and the flesh (Galatians 5:17).<br />
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I love the notion of "never giving up" and "fighting until the last breath" or the romance that endures insurmountable odds before coming to pass which are the stories that make great movies. Much to my dismay, the screenplay that was my swashbuckling life got scuttled. I am giving up. I am done. I am no longer the "x" that has to be in every equation.<br />
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Even as my flesh screams violently as I let go of the sinking Titanic that is me, there is a calming peace that comes with finally admitting what has been true all along: <strong>I was made to trust.</strong> I was created to do something that does not feel natural, because at some point along the way "the truth was exchanged for a lie." I was created to trust the Creator.<br />
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Don't worry, this doesn't mean I'm going to run off and join the circus.Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-52924165968431046792011-05-24T01:51:00.000-05:002011-05-24T02:11:40.526-05:00Two Worlds Collide: A Road Trip to NashvilleI have loved music for as long as I can remember. At the age of 6, I had my own tape player which was perpetually playing such albums as <em>Music Machine </em>and <em>Bullfrogs and Butterflies</em> along with whatever music my parents were listening to in those days. I later moved on to <a href="http://www.psalty.com/">Psalty</a> and Colby before growing out of that stage of life. All the while, I was taking piano lessons, learning music theory, taking saxophone lessons and playing sax in the church band. Music was an important part of my life.<br />
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In college, I became fond of a relatively unknown artist by the name of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Elefante">John Elefante</a>. I was mesmerized by pretty much anything he did musically. I know all of my friends found my devotion to him to be a little annoying as I thought the "great commission" was to share with anyone and everyone the good music that came from this particular individual. There is even a funny story that involves me being on a first date with a girl who had one of his albums playing in her car stereo during that initial date and I figured she must be "the one." (She wasn't.)<br />
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I can honestly say that God has blessed me numerous times through John's music. At one point in 1995 while in law school, I was studying with his <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Windows-Of-Heaven/dp/B00123JJT2/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1306220843&sr=8-2">Windows of Heaven</a> </em>album playing in the background. I was so moved by one of the songs that I wrote him a letter. (This was back in the dark ages when writing a letter meant actually putting pen to paper, paper into envelope, stamp on envelope and envelope into mailbox.) Lo and behold, ten days later my phone rings while I'm again studying. I answer the phone and a voice on the other end says "Brett? Hey, this is John Elefante." The dude called me to thank me for writing him. I asked him if he called every person that wrote him and he said that I was only the second person that he had ever called. ("Sure John, I bet you say that to all the...uh, fans.") He wanted to let me know that my letter encouraged him. Needless to say, this didn't exactly diminish my respect for him.<br />
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Fast forward to 2011..16 years later. I still love music. Continuing my trend of liking music that no one else has ever heard of, my favorite musician is now <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neal_Morse">Neal Morse</a> who specializes in what is called progressive rock. Progressive rock is an acquired taste that is actually very popular in Europe, but not so popular here in the States. As a result, progressive rock artists typically don't tour the U.S. However, Neal has just released a new album and was going to put on a concert in Nashville, Tennessee. Since I vowed that I would go see Neal in concert if he was ever in the the Central Time Zone, I simply had to go.<br />
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My beloved wife (who absolutely hates Neal's music) accompanied me on this road trip to Nashville. Not only that, she had previously laid the groundwork for us to meet with John Elefante if we were ever in Nashville. As things turned out, I had a very special weekend. I got to see <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/unklejman/NealMorseTestimony2Tour2011#5610021700628189058">Neal Morse in concert</a> on Thursday night and then met John Elefante on Friday.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Tg9SKrgb_mM/TdtSrudcSLI/AAAAAAAAABk/DmDq0yt-50k/s1600/April+and+May+056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Tg9SKrgb_mM/TdtSrudcSLI/AAAAAAAAABk/DmDq0yt-50k/s400/April+and+May+056.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Seeing Neal in concert was great!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Meeting John in person was awesome!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Two day road-trip with Elly...</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Priceless.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
<a href="http://www.johnelefante.com/">http://www.johnelefante.com/</a><br />
<a href="http://www.nealmorse.com/">http://www.nealmorse.com/</a></div>Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6535532491333971540.post-41364033821196914002011-05-17T10:03:00.000-05:002011-05-18T21:55:10.475-05:00Paging Dr. JesusNot too long ago I was thinking I needed to talk to a psychologist. I did a simple Google search for "Columbia MO psychologist." After looking through Google's top choices, one stood out to me. This doctor's online bio listed about ten "areas of specialty," with just about all of them being the very issues that I thought I was dealing with. What began as a half-hearted search all of a sudden seemed promising with this discovery that there was someone out there who specialized in exactly what I thought I needed.<br />
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I called the number listed on the website and asked to make an appointment. The receptionist informed me that "all of our doctors are booked for the next two months." Undaunted, I asked for the earliest possible appointment with the doctor whose website I had found. The receptionist replied, "I'm sorry, Dr. So-and-So is completely booked and is not taking any new patients."<br />
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Oh.<br />
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That doctor must be really good. His patients must really like him if he doesn't even need to expand his practice. Or is it the other way around? Isn't it the doctor's job to make his patients better? Shouldn't people be getting healed to the point where they no longer need the doctor's services? Maybe this doctor really isn't that good at all. I thought about this for a while.<br />
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I call myself a Christian -- a follower of Jesus -- but in all honesty, I am a terrible Christian. I rarely do the things the Bible says that Christians should do (pray, read my Bible, feed the hungry, give to the poor, etc.) and am much more skilled at finding new and creative ways to sin. It took me a while before I realized that I was a perfect candidate for being a Christian since I was hopelessly dependent on the saving work of Jesus. However even in that, I have had a distorted view of Jesus as something other than my living savior and treated him more as if he was my primary care physician.<br />
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For example, a typical prayer of mine goes something along these lines:<br />
<blockquote>"Jesus, help me to stop sinning. Help me to love people better. Help me to do this and not do that. I believe these are things that you want for me to do, so please help me to do them. Amen."</blockquote>If Jesus is truly alive and listens to the prayers of his followers, then why wouldn't he want to answer such a great prayer? Why won't he snap his fingers and make me all better? Doesn't he want me to do all those things? Won't he be glorified by my good behavior? Shouldn't good works just be flowing out of me because I am a Christian? You know, the fruits of the Spirit and all that stuff?<br />
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Then it hit me. I was asking Jesus to give me a spiritual prescription that would take away the symptoms that were bothering me (sin) so that what exactly...I could feel better about myself? So that I could no longer need his services? My friend <a href="http://leadlikeasinner.blogspot.com/">Scott Boyd</a> would tell me that my prayer was nothing more than asking Jesus to help me with the "Brett Barton Salvation Plan." No wonder that prayer never got answered! And here I was blaming him for giving me rocks and snakes when I thought I was asking for bread and fish. <strong>But what am I doing asking for bread and fish when Jesus has already given me precisely what I need -- Himself?!?</strong><br />
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When Jesus said that he was (and is) the Way, the Truth and the Life, I believe that he is saying that he is not only the means to an end, but he is also the end. So now it is becoming more clear that I have been praying and asking Jesus to help me save myself, when he is the one in the business of savings lives. He is the savior. I am the savee. He must increase. I must decrease. Why am I asking him to fix me so that I don't need him as much? That's not really fixing me, now is it?<br />
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This is how the weak can say they are strong and the poor can say they are rich. It's not that once Jesus comes into the picture, they will no longer be sick and struggle to pay their bills. No, it's that the weak have something better than bulging muscles and a clean bill of health. They have given up their striving to save themselves and are at peace in the hands of the savior.<br />
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He is the Great Physician who heals us through manifestation, revelation and impartation. He is increasing. He is manifesting himself, revealing himself and imparting himself to us. This is the goal, the prize...THE LIFE. This is the kind of doctor who the more he treats us, the more we go back to him.<br />
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And he is always taking new patients.<br />
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Bibliography: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Redemption-Freed-Jesus-Worship-Wounds/dp/143352077X/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1305643015&sr=1-3">Redemption</a>; <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Counterfeit-Gods-Empty-Promises-Matters/dp/0525951369/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1305644057&sr=1-1">Counterfeit Gods</a>Brett Bartonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960919914357855373noreply@blogger.com3