has it really been that long?

i have been a little quiet in recent weeks. for the one and a half of you who missed me, there is a reason for my silence — a very good reason.
i met someone not long ago, who became an extremely serious someone right around my last post. she is the reason for my hiatus from the blog keyboard *i am still working, daily, which requires my to be very personal with a keyboard, sometimes many keyboards (but more on keyboard/computer monogamy in a later blog)*
she has changed my life in so many ways and all positive. she possesses all i have looked for in a lover and more. she is more. more than a lover. more than a girlfriend. more than my future wife. she is everything and — to repeat that word — more. she has been my date, my girlfriend, my fiancé, my best friend. she has been those things, she is those things and she will always be those things.
well, i have returned to my blog today to post a couple of things i have written for her in the recent weeks. i hope you enjoy. i am going to post them now, and will continue to post in the future as i feel the need. enjoy.....

— — — — — — — — — — — —

•your song comes forth•


an old song
plays sadly,
as through
broken speakers
comes its
burned-out
notes.
but now,
with a
new day
dawn,
a sweet praise
you play
for me,
for me.....
my tears
form
flush
a cascade
as i join in
your song,
in light,
illuminates
monuments,
cathedrals
once
dedicated
to love.
and
in me
comes pause,
a smile
to go
through
a world
never taken,
never taken
before.
but now
there's
a new,
freshly felt
longing
in my chest.
this strange
pounding
in my heart
comes a tune
you once created
that you now sing
just for me
just for me.......

m•g•m
02•20•09

— — — — — — — — — — — —

•Untitled•


Trees sprout
majestic
lost limbs
volcanic rock
substitute
a trunk
the leaves
standing still
for one man
it was his salvation
and for the other
just a chance to
find his way
home....

mgm
03.05.09

— — — — — — — — — — — —

•driving to you•

The you of my dreams
The you in possession of my heart
The you who stole my soul
The you who owns my body
The you who takes my breath away
The you I always think of
The you I will always be
The you who gave me forever
The you I can't wait to see
The you I love and
The you I will hold
Never letting go...

mgm
02.01.09

if i wasn't such a fan of the game.....

I finally get home and sit on the couch after working a 12-hour day, going strong from 8 a.m. to approx. 8 p.m. So of course I am looking forward to getting to the house and just completely chilling for a while, like no talking = chilling, like not moving for hours = while. So after attempting to leave work for at least a half-dozen times, I finally get home and turn on the television eager to watch the Tennessee Volunteers host the Kentucky Wildcats in ESPN's prime-time SEC contest.
And by contest, I mean that loosely -- very loosely.
It seems the game oh-so quickly turned into that Ryan Phillippe, Selma Hayek, Mike Myers and Neve Campbell production of 54.......
Anyways, the game did not resemble anything recognizable from Tennessee's perspective -- and, for that matter, the movie sucked, too.
So I witness all of that, yet I continued to watch as the Volunteers followed poor shots with poorer ones. If Tennessee's game was currency, Big Orange would be on welfare. Food stamps.
And please don't get me started on the Volunteers' defense. If bowing up on D was the Spelling Bee, they acted as if they had never heard the word -- so sorry, Merriam-Webster. Tennessee could not spell the word, could not pronounce it, could not use it in a sentence and the Vols much less knew what it meant. All that drama was especially true when Kentucky guard Jodie Meeks had the rock in his palms. Well, the junior took shot after shot, and each continued to splash en route to knocking down 54 points. He did all this while taking the lead -- over Kobe, over Oden, HELL, even over Howard and Orlando's NBA-record 23 3s -- on SportsCenter.
He broke Kentucky's single-game record, which Dan Issel set versus Ole Miss -- before I was born (my only consolation this night) -- 39 years ago when the Wildcat great messed around to the tune of 53 points.
Anytime someone breaks a Kentucky record -- whether single-game, season or career -- it is saying something. See, the Wildcats have about as storied a program as any school, anywhere.
Meeks hit almost everything he threw up -- treys, free throws, 10-foot jumpers or right at the rack.
With all the brilliant shots Meeks took -- and made -- a good place to begin is the most simple portion of his game Tuesday night -- at the line.
Meeks calmly dropped 14-of-14 from the free-throw line and that was the easiest part for Tennessee fans to stomach.
Because, what the Vols are usually doing -- getting to the line -- Meeks was copping, well, when he wasn't dropping every type of shot there is, at least. It was as if he could just take one step over half-court, pull up and well ....... you get the idea.
Meeks set another Kentucky record from downtown, too. And that also is a part of the Volunteers' game that usually falls in their favor.
But this night, when Tennessee could do nothing right -- and I mean, nothing -- Meeks was like a microwave behind the arc, hitting 10-of-14 3-pointers.
Yeah, I know ..... ho-hum.
Possibly the most frustrating aspect of Meeks' game Tuesday night for Tennessee coach Bruce Pearl was Meeks was so far gone in the zone that even when Volunteer guards attempted -- feebly, mind you -- defense on Meeks, he still barely hit rim as he dropped bomb after bomb.
At the midway mark of the first half, when Meeks had just 17 points -- 17 points!!! -- ESPN color commentator Jimmy Dykes said, tongue-in-cheek (at the time) that Meeks could easily drop 50 on the night. Well, with 26 points at the half, it suddenly became very evident to everyone in Thompson-Boling Arena that Meeks was on the verge of having one of those special nights to the point that each and every ESPN Radio show in the morning will be discussing and dissecting Meeks' game that I will be forced to relive on my drive to work.
Happy, happy! Joy, joy!
Meeks made 15-of-22 from the field as Kentucky upped its record to 13-4 on the year and 2-0 in the SEC's Eastern Division. Tennessee, which started the season ranked among the top teams in the country, playing possibly the nation's toughest non-conference schedule -- splitting two games against Gonzaga and dropping the hammer on a tough, Final Four-caliber Georgetown -- fell to 10-5 overall, 1-1 in the SEC.
Now, all of a sudden, the Volunteers are looking like a team that has lost their identity, personality. As the conference season is just beginning to warm up, that is not a good sign for Tennessee fans.
But for Kentucky fans, coach Billy Gillispie -- who had Big Blue fans grumbling last season until the Cats made a remarkable turnaround, streaking into the NCAA Tournament -- might be turning the corner in Lexington. The coach has turned around UTEP and Texas A&M before venturing into the SEC and Kentucky's storied program and its often unrealistic expectations -- national title each and every season.
The Wildcats most likely will not contend for the NCAA championship this season, but with Meeks, the Gillispie-led squad might surprise some teams and run through the SEC schedule and make a deeper-than-expected Big Dance run.
With the show the guard put on display Tuesday night, it is not a stretch to think in those terms -- for Cats' fans and the rest of us, too.
Meeks didn't just drop ridiculous buckets, either. He grabbed eight rebounds and dropped four dimes, all while just committing one turnover against Tennessee's supposed tough full-court defensive pressure.
There was no drop-off in his game at any point, even after playing 39 of the 40 minutes. In fact, it was the Vols who looked weak and weary.
With 3:50 left in the game, Meeks had 52 points. Tennessee? The Volunteers had just 64. I'm talking the entire team here. One-man wrecking crew? You bet.
Meeks only played just 11 games last season after suffering one injury after another -- hip flexor, a fractured pelvis and a sports hernia, which led to going under the knife during the offseason. If Tuesday night is any indication, Meeks has recovered. He is so well at this point, he is seriously playing his way into National Player of the Year conversations, especially as the Wildcats continue to win and garner headlines.
Sure, Meeks has tough competition with North Carolina's Tyler Hansbrough, Oklahoma's Blake Griffin, Davidson's Stephon Curry and Notre Dame's Luke Harangody. But the Kentucky guard is fifth in the nation, averaging 25 points per game -- or at least he WAS dropping 25 per before last night's national showcase.
Say hello to Jodie Meeks America. For everyone except the Vols, it is a pleasure to meet him.
It has been just 24 days since Meeks dropped his previous career-high of 46 points against Appalachian State.
Now, hoop junkies want to know how long it will be until he tops Tuesday night.
Because with his game skyrocketing it's not a matter of IF.
Kentucky fans enjoy the ride, because for Jodie Meeks it is now WHEN.

what a dreary monday

i sit here at my desk. alone. what else is new?
i tend to torture myself on these types of days with my selection of tunes from my grrrlfriend -- elise, my ipod.
today, the dreary tunes draw me to the innocence mission.
why do i do this to myself?
for fun, i guess.
without anyone to do it to me, i do it to myself.
i just want this day to end. soon. please?

it has been a while.....

it has been a little while since i last posted on here.
things have happened. things have changed. things have stayed the same.
is it bad to want to die?
oh well, who really cares?
i did write this recently and wanted to post it in case i take my last breath tonight.....

if you choose
to bestow
your grace
your golden hair
i would plant
a dance of dreams
in your daylight joy
and days for months
and years for life
i will never let go
i will never let go...

some fun with election night

Election is a busy night for those in the media, but there is no excuse to not have fun amid the craziness.
What I did is what others surely did and that is play a music game.
I took Barack Obama and substituted his name with certain songs. I know, it is cheesy, but it made the night pass quickly,
A few of the winners:
* "Keep on Barackin in the free world."
* "Barack, Barack, Barackin on Heaven's door."
* "Barack the boat, don't Barack the boat baby. Barack the boat, don't tip the boat over."
* "Barack-n-roll, hoochie coo."
* "Barack it."
* "We will, we will Barack you."
* "I love Barack and Roll."
* "Barack me Amadeus."
* "I am a Barack."
* "For those about to Barack, we salute you."
* "Barack lobster."
* "Barack the Casbah."
The list goes on and on, but I will spare you the details. You can come up with your own. It is fun.
And remember, Barack out with your cocks out!

do not worry about me, it was just a phone call

So I have rambled incessantly over the weeks and months -- especially since I became the Editorial Page Editor and started producing daily opinion/editorial pieces for my daily -- about how everyone seems to thrive off phoning or writing me to let me know I live in a blood red state. Each concerned citizen feels the need to either convince me of the error of my ways or attempt to convert me or, most often it seems, just wants to let me know the extent of their vocab skills.
The last occurs maybe 60 percent of the work week, the middle from every other drone -- or readers, as they so wish they were -- and the first, each and every person.
It does not go unappreciated or unnoticed. With each instance, a certain glow is provided to my day. Every time it happens, it makes me happy to be alive.
Mind you, I am wrong, even when what I write is an agreeable piece with said concerned citizen. There is a certain, as it was said to me Tuesday afternoon, subconscious, between-the-lines way in which I write, it seems. Never straight-forward and to the point, just my attempt to lead the sheep astray.
The four-letter words, the venom, the hate spewed forth by these mouth-breathers, brings a smile to my face. As my friend, Kevin, told me when I took this job, "When your voicemail is running over and your inbox crammed full, you know you have done your job when you are being attacked on all sides."
It did not take long for me to understand exactly what he meant by that.
I am a little more than two months into this job. Before that I was privy to this knowledge from the former Editorial-Opinion Writer/Editorial Page Editor and I got different, while hateful all the same, input from readers/subscribers as a former Sports Editor (hey it was all that was available -- sports -- when I first applied out of college). I took the job, because I needed the job, and rather quickly moved up the newsroom's food chain into management. But I never wanted to stay in sports long and when I was approached about transferring to the dark side of news, I leaped. I hurled myself in my current direction because of several reasons.
First, I have wanted to try my hand at opinion/editorial almost as long as I have wanted to work in print journalism (specifically, since I was about 12 or 13 years old).
Second, it was the best avenue for future advancement -- I was not moving up directly from my Sports Editor desk.
Third, the hours are much better. In sports, it is a seven-day-a-week gig. For us being an a.m. paper, it also meant working from about 2 or 3 p.m. to anywhere from midnight to 2 or 3 a.m. Seven-days-a-week, 10 hours a *night* will burn your light out rapidly. Now, I work Monday through Friday, 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. The new hours allow me to actually have a life, letting me spend that life with my 4-year-old son. I have witnessed more in his life -- every other weekend -- the last three or so months than I had in the previous three-plus years combined. I truly do believe that.
For those three primary reasons, I allow myself to be attacked -- not in a physical nature, so far. ... I am subjected to violent phone conversations; twisted, violent e-mails; and bi-polar, schizophrenic letters delivered by the postal service. I do all of this, not with dread or fear, but most times with a smile on my face. Ninety-nine percent of these kind souls do not realize the sad insanity in which they spew. The contradictions and preschool logic have moved me to tears before. Not because I am frightened or properly put in my place, but because I am laughing so hard, my tummy hurts.
So as I sit here at my home computer, researching future edits, I look forward to Wednesday.
I just wonder how many four-letter words and names I will be called? The funny thing is with it being Wednesday, some of these kind folks will attend their house of worship.
Where I live, it seems, red state equals the opposite of family values and compassion. It equals hypocrisy.

i just don't understand

OK, so there is this story that circulated from our Montgomery correspondent in today's edition that has me scratching my head.
In the copy, our correspondent scribes about how the government, or more precisely the Federal Emergency Manangement Agency, has not paid the state for damages which occured during the Hurricane Gustav evacuation.
It appears FEMA owes the state two-year college system something like $2.25 million for damages to shelters (also known as gymnasiums to the community college basketball teams) and for things like methadone for smack addicts.
When all of this was going on, I had a friend, a close friend, who ran one of the shelters. I went there a couple of times.
I DID NOT SEE METHADONE!
I mean, seriously, the state was just handing junkies sustinance to keep them from jonesing and withdrawing in the middle of the shelter?
This shit just had my jaw on the floor.
I had heard about the rapes, assaults, robberies, thefts at Wal-Mart, vandalism, etc., but no one told me about the 24-hour methadone clinic our state was running at your local junior college.
You can read the more tame version of this and more on our Web site or in the daily edition, but I had to post here. After all, they won't let me write about methadone and I did type *shit* earlier.
Go figure, FEMA owes the state two-plus million dollars for running a methadone clinic for five days.
Wow, and to think, I figured it would be no fun and nothing to do. Who knew I could have gotten high?
Thanks FEMA and thanks Alabama.