The End Is Near!

     Not the end of the world (nobody knows when that will happen). And not the end of my blog (I need this too much to stop doing it). No, it's the end of something far more important. Sunday night the Ashley Theater in Valdosta is closing for good. If you've read much of my writing you know how much I looooooove going to the movies. I would rather go to the theater than watch a movie at home any day. I love everything about movie theaters, except their closing.
     The Ashley Theater is the "Dollar theater" although it's actually $2.50. You've probably got one like it in your town (although for how long I don't know). "Dollar theaters" are usually the old theater in a town. A big, fancy, newfangled, corporate owned, all digital, 27 screen super cinema with stadium seating, theater comes to town, surrounded by a mall, restaurants, and pretty soon everyone is watching movies there and the little, privately owned and operated cinema suddenly looks like an outdated relic, a fossil that technology has passed by. Don't get me wrong, I really enjoy going to the newfangled cinemas too (see my previous post, http://www.brandonbritton.blogspot.com/search?q=movies#!http://brandonbritton.blogspot.com/2011/12/36-day-17-written-tuesday-december-27.html). The sound system, the crystal clear digital picture on a ginormous screen, the oversized, plush rocking seats. They are nice.........but.....they don't have the dingy, small, cavernous, nostalgia and character of the old ones that are still lingering around like artifacts from my childhood.
     I have found, as I grow older, that I appreciate the simplicity of things from my childhood. The last little bit of technological darkness before the cyber dawn. Before DVR's, smartphones and the internet, when we only had three channels, no remote controls, vinyl records and a few little squares of light on my television constituted a video game (Atari). It was a time when most of these "dollar theaters" were built. Funny thing is, they probably charged about the same to see a movie back then as they do now. Wouldn't it be great if we could say that about a lot of other things (gas, milk, cars)? I guess I love these theaters because they remind me of the "old days" (I know that seems comical to many of you who are quite older than me). They still bear the same architecture, decorations and technology as they did when they were built and I believe because of that they are time machines enabling you to step back thirty years and breathe its air for a couple of hours. Or they are like museums recreating a time long ago that I actually lived in. Usually the theater itself is much more narrow, and quite a bit longer from front to back than our modern ones. Something about these dimensions creates a changed perspective of the screen and the audience. You can almost always count on a few seats being covered with a trash bag because they are broken. The movies they feature are stuck in release date purgatory, no longer new releases worthy of the megaplexes, and not yet ready for DVD release. The only place you will catch them is at the dollar theaters. I also like the fact that most of the time they are virtually empty. As much as I enjoy going to the movies, the experience is magnified if I am the only one in the theater (psychologically I still haven't figured out why it is that I enjoy this, and in general being in places by myself that would normally be filled with people; perhaps it's something to do with the only child thing). The fewer people in the theater the better. It gives it an almost creepy, spooky, 70's horror film feel (I know I'm weird, you don' have to point it out to me).
     My first "indoor" movie was at the Crockett Theater in Lawrenceburg, Tennessee. Not to be confused with the Crockett Cinema. You wanna talk about old theaters, the Crockett Theater was one of those old beauties from the early era of cinema. I'm talking 1930-50's era. It has the majestic, ornately designed "3-D" marquis sign out front. There was the single person ticket booth at the entrance and the inside......breathtaking. It looked like you were walking into a famous opera house. It even had a balcony, which we sat in! The movie was "The Goonies." I'll never forget my aunt Paula taking me and my cousin Clayton. I think this was when I first fell in love with old movie theaters. I was nine years old and I loved it so much that I had my 10th birthday at the movies. It was Rocky IV and I found a twenty dollar bill on the floor and for years after that I would walk the aisles looking under seats before I would leave the theater. Previous to this excursion I had only ever been to drive ins. You wanna get me talking about something I love? Get me started in on drive ins, but that's a blog for another day.
     Sadly, the Ashley Theater is another cinema for another day. A day that has passed us by and will likely never come this way again. When we visited Valdosta for the first time, literally the first time, a full year before being offered a job here, Po and I went to see a movie at the Ashley Theater. In the four years since we have been many, many times. Sadly, I will be out of town with work on Sunday night when they show their last movie, otherwise I would be there. I still may try to get by tomorrow if I can, just for one last time. Just like your favorite movie that you don't want to end, at some point the closing credits must roll. Too bad there won't be a sequel.

I Hate Myself And Want To Die

     Wow, that title really gets your attention doesn't it? Actually that isn't my title. I lifted it from a Nirvana song from 1993. At the time of recording Nirvana lead singer Kurt Cobain insisted the song was just a joke, an example of dark humor and not to be taken literally or even seriously. Maybe so, but the sad reality is one year later he would kill himself with a shotgun. At the time of his suicide he was the biggest rock star on the planet with a wife, a little girl and more money than he could spend. Nirvana was my generations Beatles and I can remember vividly where I was when I heard he was dead. My girlfriend (now wife) and I were in my car sitting at a red light beside the Killen Church of Christ in Killen, Alabama, on our way back home to Pulaski from a long weekend in Tupelo. It came over the radio that he had been found dead at his home in Seattle. What would make a guy who seems to have it all, hate himself and want to die? The same thing that makes millions of other people feel the same way......depression.
     Depression is a topic we'd rather not talk about. It makes us uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. But did you realize over 1 million people commit suicide worldwide every year? For those under 45 it is the third leading cause of death. Additionally some 20 million suicide attempts occur every year. That means every 40 seconds someone is attempting suicide somewhere in the world. Truth is, I'd rather not talk about it, but after this past weekend I feel like I'm a negligent Christian, parent and human being if I don't.
     This past weekend I was a part of the Y.E.S. Weekend (http://www.forrestpark.org/YES/index.htm) at the Forrest Park Church of Christ where we worship in Valdosta. Each year, for the past 27 years, around 1,000 people, predominantly teens, come together for this Youth Enrichment Seminar. Each year I am humbled by the confessions of the dozens of teens who respond to the Lord's invitation for help, strength, forgiveness, courage, etc. They are trying to live godly lives in a very ungodly world. This year, was different. There were still dozens of kids who responded, but their confessions were much different than what I have heard before. Around half of the kids who responded mentioned: loneliness, low self-esteem, hurting themselves (i.e. cutting, burning, etc), addictions, suicide attempts or thoughts, hating themselves and depression. As I listened I sat and cried. I kept asking myself how have we missed this so badly? How is it that so many of these children are hurting so terribly and we haven't even noticed? I think there are a couple of reasons why.
     #1 - We are embarrassed to talk about it. Depression is an ugly, scary subject that makes us very uncomfortable. Although views about mental illness have improved drastically from the dark ages of the 1960's and before, it is still very much a social stigma. We are embarrassed  by it, ashamed of it and largely consider it a weakness, a flaw or just being overly dramatic. I don't know why. Would we judge a diabetic as weak or flawed because their pancreas doesn't work like it should and they have to take meds and see an Endocrinologist? So we keep it quiet if someone in our family has to see a therapist or counselor, much less has to be admitted to a facility. "What will people think?" Who cares what they think! You don't think "people" already "think" a lot of things about us? Part of the problem is worrying more about what people think than what can we do to help the person who is ill to get better. I have never seen a greater demonstration of bravery than I saw this weekend when those children confessed before 1,000 people, most of whom were strangers to them, "I hate myself and want to die." I'll tell you flat out, I don't have that kind of courage. Most of the time I'm too afraid to tell my own family what I'm struggling with. God bless those kids for being so strong. You are now my heroes. A funny thing happened after they spoke up about what they were going through. They were mobbed with support. I sat back and watched for ten minutes as people, many of them strangers, waited in line just to hug them, speak a word of encouragement, and cry with them. It was one of the most beautiful things I've seen in my 38 years in the church. I saw the church as it ought to be. "That there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together" (1 Corinthians 12:25-26). Oh I'm sure there were those who whispered, laughed or thought they were weak, but that's their problem. There will always be people like that, just like there will always be people who are still convinced the earth is flat, but thankfully those are in the minority and it should be the same with those who would look down on another for their struggles. The haters voices were drowned out by the overwhelming support. (By the way, here is a great resource you might turn to if you are to afraid to speak up yet or don't feel you have anyone to turn to: http://thelightnetwork.tv/tag/juniper/  and http://anomalousjaney.blogspot.com I don't personally know her, but we have met once, and she is one of the most courageous people I know simply for creating this podcast and blog).
     #2 - We can't relate to what they are talking about. I have hated myself for long periods of time. I have self medicated. I have hurt myself. I have been depressed. I have been very depressed, but I don't suffer from depression (in the clinical sense). Most of us have felt those things and maybe even struggled with them some, but most of us are not clinically depressed and because of that we don't understand what it's like. It's not that we don't care or that we aren't trying, but we just can't relate to what someone who does is feeling. I don't know what it feels like to want to die or to want to kill myself. I have never felt that so I don't understand when someone tells me they do. But here's the thing, I don't have to understand, I just have to care. I learned a long time ago that when I am at a funeral with those who have just lost a loved one, that it's ok to not know what to say. There is nothing you can say. You can say the greatest thing in the world and their loved one will still be dead. They aren't needing people to say the right thing (and when we try we usually say the wrong thing), they are needing people. They need to not be alone. They need someone to hold to, lean on, hug, cry with, yell at, talk to, they just need someone to be there. The same is true when someone is suffering from depression. You aren't going to "talk them out of their depression" anymore than you can talk a diabetic out of low insulin production. Just let them know they are loved, let them know someone cares, let them know someone will listen and let them know you will help any way you can.
     My inspiration for this particular blog post, and the inspiration for so much of the good in my life, is my oldest. This past weekend he was one of the dozens who confessed struggles with these things. Recently he posted on social media a statement about his struggles with depression and the need for people to "get over it" and be a friend to those who are hurting. He got so much of who he is both physically and mentally from his dad, but he didn't get his courage from me. I am envious of the bravery he has shown in stepping out of the shadows and speaking up about this. He inspired me to write these words today.
     I don't think I've ever done this but I'd like to ask you for a favor. Share this article on Facebook, Twitter, Google+, whatever medium you use. Let's get this conversation started so that people who are needing help with this struggle can come out of hiding in the shadows and find love, acceptance and a support system. I know there will still be people who self medicate (drugs, alcohol, porn, etc), those who will hurt themselves, and those who will take their own lives, but God forbid it be because we let them feel too ashamed or scared to reach out. Who knows, the life you save my be your own.

Brandon Britton Is The Most Interesting Man InThe World

     I fully realize this may be the most narcissistic thing in the world that a person can do, but I'll admit that tonight I did a Google search of myself. Me doing this shouldn't surprise you, at one time I was friends with every Brandon Britton listed on Facebook. In all honesty it wasn't for conceited purposes, but mostly to make sure nothing embarrassing from my past was on the internet (I say a prayer of thanks regularly that we did not have social media or camera phones when I was younger). I discovered nothing embarrassing existed (except for some audio of sermons I preached as a young preacher) thankfully. However, I did discover some pretty amazing, exciting and interesting things that Brandon Britton apparently has done and is doing and I wanted to share those with you. Most of you probably thought Brandon Britton was about as vanilla and boring as they come (husband, dad, preacher, missionary, serial blogger, disturbingly obsessive lover of all things New Orleans, Cajun chef extraordinaire, music lover, sports fan), but you would be terribly wrong. Allow me to introduce Brandon Britton, the most interesting man in the world.
     He is a mixed martial arts fighter.

     

     He does fire and disaster clean up.

     He is a male model and actor.

     He is a musician with songs on iTunes.

     He is a professional tennis player.

     He is also, apparently, a felon who threatened the president and candidate for president.

     He is also a preacher, but you wouldn't know that until about page 4 of his Google search results. Obviously most these Brandon Brittons are not me, but there is one similarity. I too am many different things, including some bad ones. I've never threatened a political figure and I'm not a felon, but I have plenty of "crimes" of my own. Many times people pigeon hole me and categorize me as "this" or "that" (and I'm guilty of doing that to others as well), but the truth is I'm not so simple to explain. I am so many things, most of which you probably don't know. Why am I telling you this? Because I'm inviting you to take the time to get to know me. If you've been reading this blog you probably have already realized that I am many things you never imagined and you know that I am, at heart, very shy about meeting and opening up to new people. I usually need a little prodding. There is nothing more exciting than learning that you have something in common or share a passion for something, with someone that you thought you could never relate to. It's amazing how common interests can break down walls and make friends of those who seem so different on first contact. So I introduce to you Brandon Britton: cage fighter, disaster clean up man, musician, tennis player, actor/model, criminal, and just me, the most interesting person I can be.

P.S. - During this search I discovered, get this, a Britton Plaza in Brandon, Florida!!!! You know I've got to visit there and get my picture made. Road trip!

Girls! Girls! Girls!

     This past weekend was one of the best I've had in a longtime. I got to spend some greatly needed time with my best friend and his family. I got to teach an awesome group of college kids about dating, relationships and marriage advice. I made some new friends and got to catch up with some old ones. All in all it was a great three days. However, there was a little bit of a cloud to my silver lining, for a couple of reasons.
     As I mentioned I got to spend time with my best friend and his family, but there was a downside. Obviously we didn't have enough time to hang out together, but the downer was something else. His three girls all look so grown, and that is partially because they are practically grown. The oldest I met when she was two years old, the same age at the time as my oldest. They were best buddies while her father and I were in school together. We were at one another's houses constantly, so we saw her grow from practically a baby to a little girl and have continued to be a part of one another's lives in the fifteen years since. Because she and my oldest are the same age, events in her life seem to carry a little more weight in our lives than another might. This summer I will officiate her wedding and I thought of that often as she sat in my college class on dating, relationships and marriage this weekend. I remember when his middle daughter was born. We babysat his oldest while they were at the hospital getting her a little sister. I remember taking his firstborn to the hospital to meet her new sister for the first time. And though we lived 500 miles apart when his youngest was born, in the 13 years since then I have been in their home and they in ours dozens of times. Ironically my two best friends each have three daughters and they are the closest thing to a daughter that I will ever have. I love each of them like they are family, because to me they are.
     The other reason is way closer to home. It literally is in my home. It's one thing to watch your best friends family grow up, but even tougher when it forces you to see the parallel in your own children. His oldest and my oldest are the same age. My second and his middle are the same age. When I look at them growing up I'm getting another perspective of my own two growing up. You don't notice it as much in your own children because you see them everyday and the changes are subtle and spread over time. With his children I only see them a couple of times a year if I'm lucky and those changes are profound. Then I look at my two again and realize how "grown" they are. They have gone from playing with girls to not noticing girls to thinking girls were gross and weird (they definitely aren't gross, but I still think they are a little weird), to being obsessed with girls, to having a proper perspective about them. This weekend I watched as both of my sons started "talking" to a couple of girls. What exactly "talking" means I have no idea (of course asking them doesn't do any good because you just get a vague, "I don't know, we're just talking", oh ok, that clears it up). I still haven't figured out what it meant when I was in middle school and I was "going with" a girl or in high school when I was "going out" with a girl. Regardless, it means they are developing relationships with girls on some degree of a romantic level, however small or great. This isn't the first time, but when you realize how "grown" they are getting it takes on a different tone. You start to realize things could change drastically and quickly. After all, they are the age their mother and I were when that first spark flickered in our eyes. This is where it gets really tricky for parents. You realize every girl they bring around has the potential to be "the one." And that eventually one of these girls is going to definitely be "the one." With that in mind you want to be nice to them and make them feel comfortable around your family and you even try to like them yourselves, right after you stalk their Facebook and Twitter accounts to make sure they meet your criteria of course. After all, you may be spending the next 30 or 40 holidays, birthdays and vacations with them, and they will control your access to your grandchildren, so you better make nice. The problem is, just when you start to really like one, you know, after they have passed your parent tests and "earned" the right to spend time with your child, they break up. They go their separate ways, but for you, it's like changing channels on a TV show just as you start to get interested. You don't get closure, they're just sitting on your couch one night and are never to be seen again the next. Then you have that conversation, "I really liked that one."
     The only source of sanity is that I realized long ago I am not in control when it comes to when, where and who Cupid's arrows strike. I don't worry too much about it because since they were babies I've been praying for their wives. I don't know who they are, where they live or when they will meet, but I know Who does. And until He introduces them, and us, I'll keep praying for them. All of them.

stART

     I was five months away from graduation when I learned there was a problem. I was apparently a half credit in arts shy of meeting the Tennessee required minimum standards for a diploma. There was a reason I was a half credit shy, I was kicked out of Art I a few weeks into my Freshman year and never took the class again. I hated art and just a few weeks into the class I told my teacher, Mrs. Hunter, just that. I thought it was a stupid class, a stupid concept and I didn't see the point of making me take it. I was kicked out of class, which made me happy because I couldn't quit, and went on my merry way to study hall and never looked back, until I needed that credit to graduate. I wound up taking a music appreciation for the credit and graduated never having to endure that stupid art class, and again, I never looked back.....until recently.

     For years I have felt like there were things I wanted to say, or more accurately, I needed to say.  Thoughts, feelings, ideas, memories, commentary, observations, criticisms. Things that were strong enough that they demanded a release. Perhaps you've experienced the same thing. Have you ever felt like your head was going to explode or that you had a 1,000 pounds sitting on your chest? Maybe you've been restless and inconsolable. For years I would sit in my office at the church and listen to hundreds of people sit across from my desk and weep or rage because they had been holding something in for so long. They would tell me things that they had never told anyone before, but had been dying to tell someone, anyone for a long time. They had been holding these things inside until they practically burst with emotion. If only they had found their voice sooner, perhaps they could have had a pressure release and avoided painful mistakes or regrettable words and actions.

     I have contemplated these things for many years and struggled to find my own release. I never liked art because I didn't understand art. I understood the really "good" art (Mona Lisa, Whistler's Mother, the Sistine Chapel, etc), but the other stuff didn't make sense to me. Many times I thought that a lot of art was just scribbling or paint splatters or random things glued to a table and that anybody could do that. I knew that I didn't have the training or ability to do the former, and that anyone could do the latter, so I felt art wasn't for me. It is only recently that it struck me, that is what art is all about....anybody can do it. You can get formal, detailed training, but you don't have to do that in order to enjoy it and express yourself through it, in much the same way that you can train to be an Olympic ice skater or you can just go ice skating and enjoy yourself. In terms of art, I am the latter.

     Initially I chose writing as my form of expression. I have been writing since a fourth grade creative writing class with Mrs. Franklin, so it was something I was comfortable with. What wasn't comfortable for me was letting others read what I had written. When I wrote I wrote for me. The idea that someone else could read it and dislike it or worse disapprove of it, was terrifying, so I seldom let anyone read anything I wrote. But then I realized, this was essentially the same as just keeping it in. It is the conscious decision to invite someone else in that truly brings the release. So I began blogging. Initially it wasn't that scary because I had no idea if anyone would ever even see it, but then someone commented on something I had written and I realized someone is reading this. You may not realize it but I have a minor panic attack every time I click "publish." When I write I write honestly. It may not be popular, it may be sharing too much, it may be too personal or make most people think "who cares." But when I write it makes it feel like I'm releasing a balloon of stress, fear, anger, anxiety, disappointment, or whatever. I still enjoy this form of expression and certainly consider it a form of art, though amateurish, but it just isn't enough. I feel like I have more to say that I am just not yet comfortable saying through written words, so I have decided to branch out into something I never thought I would be involved in...art in a more traditional sense.

     Last week I finally acted on something that I have contemplated for a couple of years now. It all began with a trip to City Park in New Orleans and the sculpture garden behind the New Orleans Museum of Art. I saw complex pieces, simple pieces and some that I didn't understand at all. Most all of them spoke to me and fascinated me. More than anything they motivated me to do the same. A close family friend with formal art training helped along the way by answering questions and explaining things I didn't understand. It took months for me to decide on a medium for my expression and more months to figure out what I wanted to say, but finally, it all came to fruition and last week I created my first piece and I was proud of it, even though I didn't even know what it was, I was proud of it and the process of it. I had to ask my friend to tell me what it was (the reply was, "an installation piece of mixed media").  It's funny, but the trigger that set this all in motion for me was so random and coincidental that some would have seen it as a sign. I was making notes on my phone and apparently hit the caps lock as I was typing. The resulting message was "stART". Later when I went to read the note "the light went on." Start and Art. It was as if my subconscious was giving me the push and the hint that I needed to take this next step in self expression, so I did. 

     Everyone has something to say. Some find their voice early on and spend a lifetime expressing it. Sadly, some never find it and spend a lifetime swelling inside to the point of bursting (and some do). Others take a while to find it, but they eventually do. Much like a child learning to speak or to walk or to feed himself, they stumble, mumble, ramble, fall and make messes, but eventually they learn. For some it is writing, for others dance or sculpting, and some perform or paint. Expression is called art. I get that now, and my only regret is that if I hadn't gotten myself kicked out of that class freshman year, I might have enjoyed this satisfaction the past twenty-five years.

Fat Elvis

     James Dean, Marilyn Monroe, Jim Morrison, Jimmi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Martin Luther King, John F. Kennedy and Kurt Cobain are all "icons" in our culture, twenty to fifty years after their deaths. I believe this is primarily because they died young. They left life, and show business, or the public eye, at the pinnacle of their career. Another way to put it is, they went out on top. I'm not suggesting they didn't have talent, weren't major stars in their time or that they weren't greatly influential, but I doubt they would have remained as successful, become as significant or attained legendary, almost immortal influence status, if they had lived long lives. They would have been perhaps the biggest stars in their generation, but they certainly wouldn't have remained so throughout generations fifty years later. Maybe I'm wrong, but very, very, very few stars, even those who are legitimately brilliant or outrageously talented, continue to rise throughout their careers. Most fade into oblivion at worst or watch their success wane until they become a has been at least. Sadly, most become a caricature of themselves in an attempt to hold on to that original explosion of relevance. Perhaps a few illustrations and details would help.
     The Doors made records over a span of just four years, just a blip in terms of music careers. During that span their biggest selling record was their debut, "The Doors" at 4 million albums, only 2 million less than their final five records combined. However, since the death of Jim Morrison, their biggest selling record is "The Best Of The Doors" at 10 million, nearly double all of their album sales combined while Jim Morrison was alive. They became bigger selling, more successful after his death.
     Contrast this with Michael Jackson, who is indisputably a bigger star, more successful and a bigger influence than Jim Morrison/The Doors. His biggest record was "Thriller" which sold an unimaginable 30 million albums. The four he released after that, after he became the biggest pop star in the world, combined to sell 10 million fewer copies than Thriller. To put this in perspective, The Doors sold more records twenty years after Jim Morrison's death than the King of Pop sold once he reached the pinnacle of his career. Oh, and Michael Jackson, since he died four years ago, he's sold 50 million records and made 1.1 billion dollars, both are more than he sold in his lifetime.
     You may be thinking that I'm way off base. You may cite a band like The Rolling Stones. They have been mega stars for 50 years. They lived and they continued to be superstars. True, but when was the last time you heard a new Rolling Stones song played on a contemporary radio station? Their classic stuff is played on oldies stations every day, but their new stuff? I don't know if I've heard a new Mick Jagger led song on the radio since "Harlem Shuffle"(1986). And even that was a cover of a song from 1963.
     Still think I'm wrong? Consider the meteoric rise (from state senator to president in 12 years) and almost as sudden decline of the adoration of Barak Obama, which I personally believe will continue to sink the more time passes. Had Kennedy lived longer I believe his presidency would have been plagued by his well documented indiscretions, leading to a less popular presidency. Immoralities nearly derailed Bill Clinton who lived during a morally bankrupt era of American history, unlike the prudish by comparison, era that Kennedy served in.

     We are literally watching something similar to this happen right before our eyes with Justin Beiber. The biggest male pop star/teen sensation since Michael Jackson is now an eye roll to all but the most faithful, young and immature "Beliebers."

     Even most legendary acts like Elvis, Madonna, Britny Spears and Michael Jackson go through this, having obtained initial success, rise to monstrous popularity and then sink back down to normal success, never to reach those heights again. It is usually during this third act of their career that they become caricatures of themselves. They see the fame and success start slipping and desperately try to hang on, doing anything to keep it. Elvis, who was the biggest star in history, became the weird pseudo Karate, sparkly jumpsuit "Fat Elvis." Madonna, the biggest pop star of her time, became the anorexic, haggardly, pervy grandma. Britny Spears, who was the biggest pop star in a generation, became an overweight, skinhead flasher. And Michael Jackson.....do I even need to comment? In the bizarro world of celebrity, one of the worst things you can do for your career is continue it. Now I understand why Roger Daltrey of The Who once sneered in "My Generation", "I hope I die before I get old." Sooner or later, the biggest stars die young and become iconic or live long enough to become "Fat Elvis."

Too Late To Die Young Now

     A really weird thing happened to me this week that I haven't had to deal with before. In fact, I'm accustomed to the exact opposite, which is what has made it so disconcerting. My entire life I have listened to people tell me how young my parents look. My dad has gone with me when I was preaching somewhere and the people thought he was the preacher and I was his teenage son. He's also been mistaken many times for my brother. Don't get me started on my mother. She has gone with me when I've preached and been mistaken for my sister and even my wife, almost never as my mother. When people learn they are my parents the reaction is predictable. "There's no way. They look too young to have a son your age. They look like your siblings, not your parents." Honestly, I can't disagree with them. My parents do look young, very young. I, however, was not blessed with this fountain of youth DNA. I have commented many times that in just a few years I will actually look older than my own parents. They look young because they are young. Whereas most of my peers have parents knocking on 70's door, my parents are still a good ways from 60. They were 16 and 17 respectively when I was born. I am currently older than my parents were when I got married. Their first grandson came when they were just age 35.

     I come from a long line of young parents. I was, my dad was, and my grandfather was a teenager when our first son was born (eight more months and my oldest will break they cycle, fingers crossed). When I graduated high school,  my grandfather was a couple of years younger than my best friends father. That is how young my parents are. I'm used to their youth, but that changed this week. 

     Sure I've noticed the little changes that indicate my parents are aging, but in the last week they informed me of some health problems they have, nothing terrible, just normal parts of aging. Aging. I realized for the first time in my life this week that my parents are aging. Slower than most, probably, but they are aging. I have witnessed many people, my mother and father included, having to take care of their aging parents, but it never really occurred to me that one day I will have to care for mine. I don't say this out of dread, but enlightenment. It just dawned on me that this day is coming. I had never thought about it before, but it is coming. It's difficult for me to think of them as elderly, which they're not, but they will be one day, and this week opened my eyes to that. I only have one living grandparent (who is pretty young herself considering I'm nearly forty and she's still a little ways from 80), which means, when she passes, my parents will be the older generation. When I was a kid I had great-grandparents, and they were old. When my sons have children (which technically they are both old enough to biologically have a child now), I will be a grandfather and my mom and dad will be great-grandparents. That is crazy! I guess we can all say it's too late to die young now.

Put Another Dime In The Jukebox....NOLA Edition

     Last week was really heavy in singer/songwriter, mellow, acoustic style stuff, but this week we are going to jazz it up a little (pun completely intended). This week's edition of  new music suggestions is all about New Orleans (at least I waited until the second one to turn the subject to NOLA). I wanted to post this one today because it is the official beginning of Mardi Gras because the first parade in Orleans Parish rolls tonight (Krewe du Vieux in the French Quarter).
     You could make an argument (and I can make a really good argument), that New Orleans is THE American music city, no disrespect to Nashville. I mean, come on, this is where the first truly American music form (jazz) was born. But please don't make the mistake of thinking that New Orleans music is just jazz. This city's music scene is just like it's food scene...it has a little bit of everything and something for everyone. You can literally walk down the street and hear better musicians playing on street corners than the "artists" currently selling millions of albums, filling the radio airwaves and selling out arenas. In New Orleans you can walk into record stores and see live performances that will rival the best concerts you've ever attended. I know this because I've done it. If you love music, you will love New Orleans. You can walk in small venues that hold less than 100 people, and on any given night see a local act welcome musical legends and Grammy award winners to take the stage and jam with them unannounced. (We once missed the Red Hot Chili Peppers doing this very thing at Peaches Records by one day). I'm talking people like Stevie Wonder, Trombone Shorty, Elvis Costello, Steve Earle caliber musicians. I want to share with you some examples of all the great music New Orleans has to offer that you might not even know about.

     Tuba Skinny - Crow Jane (Album - Rag Band) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rE9hWdLG2vI  (originally performed by Skip James). This is one of the New Orleans "Busker" Bands. You can find them performing most days on Royal Street. They are a throwback to the traditional New Orleans sound with homages to Depression Era Blues, Ragtime, Spirituals and traditional jazz. I LOVE THIS BAND. Erica Lewis is the vocalist and if you closed your eyes you would think you time warped back to the 1920's.

     Anders Osborne - Oh Katrina (Album - Coming Down) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vPtpKslnE-0 The quality of this video/recording is pretty poor, but not the quality of this song. He took the despair brought on by Hurricane Katrina and wove into what sounds like a love affair gone bad. You may not have heard of Anders Osborne but you probably are a fan of one or more of the dozens of stars who have recorded his songs. Summertime In New Orleans (Album - Coming Down) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QmbwGy6IUHI If you've ever spent time in New Orleans in July you get this song and know it "gets" NOLA perfectly. I prefer the album version of both of these, but this was the best I could do.

     Dr. John - Sweet Home New Orleans (Album - Anutha Zone) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rVXHcgoD57I I had a hard time picking just one song, but I settled on this one because I love it, and this video is a great visual tour of New Orleans at the same time. If you are of a generation older than mine you are likely familiar with Dr. John. He has written and recorded with any musician who's anybody. But don't think he's a has been, he's still relevant. He's won multiple Grammy's (the most recent was for an album produced by Dan Auerbach of The Black Keys) and written songs you probably didn't realize. Have you ever seen a Zatarain's commercial? He's the voice of Zatarain's. Remember the early 90's sitcom Blossom? He wrote and sang the theme song. He also did much of the music in Disney's "The Princess And The Frog."

     Trombone Shorty - Hurricane Season (Album - Backatown) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rAdazrQaaeo This video is even better because it is from a live show at Tipitina's. He was born Troy Andrews but got the nickname Trombone Shorty as a little boy dragging a big ole trombone with him when his daddy played second lines. He got his start playing with the Stooges Brass Band (see below) but really blew up on a global level with the release of this album, for which he won a Grammy. I dare you to listen to this song and not move. I also had to put a second one on here that wasn't instrumental. On Your Way Down (Album - Backatown) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rPwX_obUTcE

     Preservation Hall Jazz Band, Rebirth Brass Band, Treme Brass Band, Stooges Brass Band - I didn't post any videos because they are all great and you can just type their name into Youtube and pick a song.

     Grandpa Elliott - Only You https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=la4qa2r519Y Grandpa has been a street performer since around age 10 when he danced in the streets using bottle caps as taps. Most days you can find him sitting at the corner of Royal and Toulouse. We've tipped him to serenade us many times. We didn't see him for several years and worried he was sick or had passed, but this past November when we were in New Orleans we ran across him. You might have heard him on this video that went viral a couple of years ago https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Us-TVg40ExM

     Tab Benoit - When A Cajun Man Gets The Blues (Album - Wetlands) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hqv5PnKm-2k If you like blues, you will love Tab Benoit. He's from Houma, Louisiana, about an hour south of New Orleans. I have been able to visit Houma a couple of times and it is the heart of Cajun country. He's also a strong advocate for the conservation of the Louisiana wetlands. These Arms Of Mine (Album - Wetlands) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vK1UoAgd76g I couldn't decide which of these two songs I love the most. This latter one is an Otis Redding cover.

     Hugh Laurie - St. James Infirmary (Album - Let Them Talk) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hT2pL4FNlpI Yes this is the guy from House. He's British, he's an actor and he's a huge fan of New Orleans music and he is surprisingly good at it. This is one of my all time favorite New Orleans songs and everyone has a version of it, but this is one of my favorites. And it doesn't hurt that there is a little cameo from Allen Toussaint. This concert was recorded at Preservation Hall. It's a little long, but give it a few minutes till the vocals kick in.

     Harry Connick Jr - Do You Know What It Means To Miss New Orleans (Album - 20) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gB8BYBOLP1k Harry is one of my favorites and this is my absolutely favorite New Orleans song. I live it every day of my life. And to top it off, Dr. John duets on this one. This is another one that everybody has a version of it, but this is the best. My second favorite version is actually the first one I ever hear. It's by a couple of singers you may recognize, Billie Holliday and Louis Armstrong https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xhkxy3ei8os

I know this is a long one but listen when you get a chance and you will be blessed with some beautiful, soulful music. I'm going to myself. My parents are here visiting, my red beans and rice are cooking and I'm about to put on some of this good music. Happy Mardi Gras everybody.

Boys Don't Cry...But Men Do

     We've been told that "Big Girls Don't Cry" (Frankie Valli, or Fergi for the younger generation), and that "Boys Don't Cry" (The Cure) at all. The problem is, this simply isn't true. Everyone cries, even those who think that they don't. For starters, I doubt there has ever been a baby in the history of the world that did not enter the world crying or pick it up quite well very quickly. The average baby will spend one to three hours a day crying (though parents probably think that number is much higher). In other words, it is an entirely human, instinctive, normal thing for us to do. It's only as we grow up that we learn that we shouldn't do this thing that is as normal, natural and instinctive as sleeping, laughing and breathing. If a little boy gets hurt we are quick to tell him to stop crying and be a big boy, or don't be a cry baby and man up. If grandma consoles him instead of discouraging him many dads, uncles or grandpas are quick to chastise her for "babying" him. Right from the very early impressionable beginning we instill into his psyche that shedding tears is weak, childish and unacceptable. Twenty-five years later he will likely be sitting in marriage counseling listening to a wife complain that he holds things in and doesn't open up emotionally to her. I know this because I have counseled dozens of young, and old, married couples and this is one of the most common criticisms of wives..."he's an emotional brick wall." On the flip side it causes him to think of his wife, and women in general, as emotional basket cases who are always crying, because he's been conditioned to think crying is bad or weak. We do males a great disservice when we shame them into believing that crying and masculinity are mutually exclusive.
     Collectively we have a terrible habit of defining masculinity in very narrow terms. And too often the more accurate terms for what we call masculinity would be "chauvinist", "jerk", "obnoxious", "crude", "womanizer", or "mysoginistic." And too often they exclude things like "caring", "compassionate", "tender hearted", "gentle", and "loving." Defining what is manly simply isn't simple. Truth is, men come in all varieties. You've got jocks, cowboys, farmers, soldiers, bodybuilders and outdoorsmen, that most put in the pantheon of the manly, but you've also got readers, techies, musicians, scientists, gamers, cooks, and writers, which sadly, much of society considers more effeminate, soft, nerdy, at worst, or not manly, at least.
     For much of my life I struggled with not feeling like a "man's man." I don't really enjoy the outdoors, I don't hunt and fish or do a lot of "guy stuff." An ideal day for me doesn't involve sitting in a tree stand or in a boat or rebuilding an old car, but reading, and then listening to music and cooking a great meal. I do love sports, but I've noticed that most of my interests skew towards what society would label as feminine traits. I'm good with it now, mainly because I've got a gorgeous wife who likes the man I am, and I've learned that my self worth isn't dictated by what others think, but when I was younger it was hard to understand that.
     Even now, in more recent years it has been a struggle to harmonize masculinity with "weaker" emotions. It's ok for a man to get angry or jealous, and maybe even scared (under the right circumstances, like war or zombie attack), but things like crying are absolutely unacceptable, unmanly and downright sissy (unless it's your mother's funeral or your team loses to their rival, in which case it is acceptable for a single tear to roll down your cheek). You think I'm kidding or exaggerating? Apparently you didn't listen to sports talk radio, read internet comments or watch ESPN panel discussions the day after Tim Tebow cried during an SEC Championship game loss or A.J. McCarron cried after a last second Alabama win at rival LSU. These guys are tougher, stronger, more competitive, macho and manly than most any of us could ever dream of being, and the national debate was if it bothered you to see them crying. To put it as politely as I can, that is stupid. I don't necessarily think all men should be crying or that it's a problem if a man doesn't cry, but generally speaking that's not a problem in our culture. I don't hear men who don't cry being mocked or taunted, "What's wrong with that guy? Is he a robot or something? What kind of weirdo doesn't express his emotions?" It should also be mentioned that my wife was even conditioned to think of her crying as a bad thing. She cries when she is happy, sad, angry, scared, pretty much whenever she feels anything strongly. For years it bothered her because she believed it bothered others, until she finally made peace with it and now simply tells people, "I'm a crier, it's who I am, it's what I do." That's true and I love her for it. Truth is, I've become somewhat of a crier myself. I told someone recently that as I've gotten older I find myself crying much easier and more often. It can be a wedding, a graduation, a funeral, a song, or even just a Super Bowl commercial and I feel the tears fill the eyes. I used to try and hide it or hold them back, but not anymore.
     I know of some pretty manly men who weren't afraid to cry. Esau (who was a noted hunter by the way, Genesis 25:27; 27:38), Jacob/Israel the namesake of God's chosen people (Genesis 29:11), Joseph who endured the rejection of his brothers, served as a slave, was falsely accused of rape and imprisoned and became the second most powerful man in Egypt (Genesis 42:24), David, you know the guy who took out a giant with a slingshot and basically won every war he ever fought (1 Samuel 30:4), the apostle Peter who was a commercial fisherman (Matthew 26:75), oh and Jesus, the carpenter, the Son of God (John 11:35). Let's see, this list includes: hunters, fishermen, construction workers, farmers, soldiers and rulers and they all cried. They were men and they were tough and they cried. They cried because of happiness, fear, sadness, pain and  anger. They cried because each one was humMAN. Men cry, and I cry for the same reason. And if you have a problem with that, you can cry me a river.

The Best Night Of My Life

     Ok, so that phrase is greatly exaggerated and over used, and this is just another example. It was, however, one of the best nights I've had in an incredibly long time. I'll tell you all about it in a minute, but first let me give you a little backstory.
     I spent a great deal of my life being afraid. Generally speaking I've always been a wallflower. Once we become friends I'll drive you crazy, but rarely will I make the first move to start the conversation. Most of my life has been spent doing things that came easily to me. I was always good at sports so if it was golf, baseball or football, I never really got nervous because I knew I was good at it. I never asked out a girl that I didn't know for sure was interested in me because there was no way I was going to take the chance of being rejected. Perhaps it is the curse of being an only child. You get all of the attention, most of what you want and that means you rarely have to step out of your comfort zone or take any risks. Most of my life I have played it safe with very few exceptions.
     Years later when I preached my first sermon I was very scared because I had never done it that before. I had never stood in front of an audience and spoke. My first sermon was in front of 362 people and I was so scared that I was literally green. It should tell you how strongly I believed in what I was doing that I was willing to stick my neck out like that. I didn't do that sort of thing. It was scary at first but then it got to be easy too. Not so much the preparation and theology aspect, but the public speaking part. I realized I was good at talking (always have been; my childhood nickname was motormouth). Just like with people, I may not start the conversation but I will keep it going for hours, I may have started slow in preaching but, as my former church members can attest, I could keep preaching forever. The point is, it didn't really scare me, so back to my world of comfort I returned.
     For years I have watched other people take risks and put themselves out there and I secretly thought, "I wish I had the courage to do that." No matter what it was: karaoke, dancing, performing in a play, doing stand up comedy, whatever. They were making themselves vulnerable and exposed to judgement. By the way, judgement isn't bad at all, as long as they judgement is that it was good, it is the harsh judgment that scares me. I have quietly wished that I could do that, but I've just never been brave enough to expose myself to criticism. Until last night.
     Some months ago my oldest got involved in a poetry society at his school. I knew that he enjoyed it but I kept my distance and asked few questions because I knew that was "his thing" and I didn't want to trespass on that. Besides, I figured it might be hard for him to be honest, raw and vulnerable if I was in the audience. I did however get to see a performance on Youtube and I was so impressed at his courage. He is so much like me in so many ways, but thankfully one of them isn't in being afraid to take a chance. Last night he asked me if I would like to go with him to an open mic night. I didn't let on, but I was ecstatic to be invited into such a sacred place to him. For over an hour I listened as young person after young person stood in front of the audience of about 100 people. They bled all over the stage, pouring out their hearts, their fears, their failures, their shame and regret and their declarations of strength and perseverance. Many times I was moved to tears at something so true and vulnerable. All I could think was how brave they were and how I wish I could be like that. My oldest performed one of his poems and at the beginning he told the crowd that I was with him and that this was my first time hearing him perform and then he dedicated it to me. It wasn't about me, but about loving a girl, but it was shared with me. I was so proud of him and moved by his words, but then something else happened that I wasn't quite expecting. I was inspired by him. Motivated. Challenged. Summoned. Something inside of me was saying, "If not tonight, when? Aren't you tired of living in fear?"
     After all of the group was finished with their poems they asked if anyone else would like to go. I asked my oldest if he cared and he assured me he didn't, so I raised my hand. Too late now. No back out. She called me to the stage and before I could run out the door I was on the stage looking into the faces of 100 college kids. Every insecurity and fear you could imagine was running through my mind. What am I doing? What if I mess up? I've been writing poetry since I was about 18 but I don't think I have ever let anyone read one and I certainly haven't ever read one publicly, but here I was feeling like I was at the top of the Empire State Building about to jump off. The room was so quiet. I took a deep breath and started reciting. Within a couple of minutes I had made it through, I didn't mess up and it was over.
     As I thought back on the night I realized what had helped give me the courage to do this. It was the atmosphere in that room. It felt like such a safe place. There was no judgment, just acceptance, love and support. That room was filled with every social clique of young person you could imagine and they made up all different social classes, but for that hour and a half they were just the same. Flawed, scared, damaged human beings who are doing the best we can to be happy and make a difference in the world.

Two Out Of Three Doctors Agree I'm Fat And Old

     Well today stunk! I spent the afternoon at the doctors office for a follow up consultation from lab work I had done recently. In the last couple of months I have visited two different doctors, and been recommended to visit another, which I chose not to do. Two of the three agree on my diagnosis, and I am sure the third would have to had I visited him. We talked about weight, blood pressure, cholesterol, kidney function and triglycerides, and all sorts of fun topics, that each had the same basic theme: the numbers aren't good. Basically everything that is wrong with me boils down to one of two things, one I can fix and one I cannot. I am fat and I am old.
     Now before you go chastising me in the comments section, I understand that both of those terms are relative. Many of you are laughing and thinking, "Child you don't know anything about being old yet, you're still a baby." Well that may be true to a 60 year old, but the fact is I'm 38. That's knocking on 40, four decades on earth. The only way that could honestly be considered young is if I lived before the flood when folks were living to be seven or eight hundred years old. The average man in America lives to be about 75, so that puts me right smack dab in the middle of my life. Middle, as in middle age, as in mid life crisis. If this was a round of golf I would be teeing off on the back nine. And you know what? I know it. I didn't need twelve years of medical school to figure it out. I've noticed the way I have to turn my ear towards the person talking if we are in a room full of other conversations or background noises. My family tells me how loud I'm talking or how loud the tv is. I have caught myself squinting or moving something closer or farther to help me see it clearly. I have watched the grey, and now white hairs go from peppering my beard to taking over my chin, migrating north to my mustache and now spreading like kudzu up both sides of my jawline. I get a little reminder each time I get up from sitting in one position for just a little too long as I have to allow time for my back to straighten all the way up or the blood to flow to my feet. You can't forget the fact you are growing older when you have a reminder about 6:00 every morning thanks to the bladder alarm. It's easy to remember when you carry a mental rolodex of all the foods that just aren't worth eating because of their side effects (smoked foods, greasy foods, fried foods, heartburn, indigestion, nausea); and that list is about as long as the ones you still can enjoy consequence free. You know it because you now consider it to be a good day simply because nothing hurt today.
     Some people don't like the word fat because they feel it is insulting or demeaning. I am not one of those people. To me husky, overweight, heavy, chunky, plus size, etc, aren't any better. To me it's just a description. I realize that some would look at me and say, "You're not fat, I'd love to be your size." I am also sure that some would look at me and think, "Please don't ever let me get to looking like that." This isn't a commentary on society, or you, this is all about me, and the truth is, I'm fat. I am 5'9" tall (short by most standards) and weigh 226 lbs (I have been 238), significantly overweight by most medical recommendations. I should probably weigh around 175 to 190 lbs. I haven't weighed that low in eighteen years. On my 30th birthday I was down to 197 during an attempt to get in the best shape of my life by 30. I was close, but got derailed by a cracked foot.
     I know how I got here. Entire pepperoni pizzas. Two liters of Coke in a day. Seconds and thirds of supper. Little Debbies for breakfast. Cans of chocolate cake frosting as a snack (yes you read that last sentence correctly). Nom, nom, nom, nom, nom. I could go on, but you get the point. I've eaten garbage, mostly processed, high fat, high sugar, high calorie, fast foods in vast amounts for long periods of time and they have gradually eroded my health and body. I lived like there was not a tomorrow, but tomorrow came and now I'm stuck with the consequences. Things like "pre-diabetic condition" and "elevated risk of heart disease" and pants that slide down your pot belly to your hips or getting out of breath tying your shoes because your stomach pushes all of the air out of your diaphragm, and the worst of all knowing that women no longer see you as good looking or handsome, but jolly.
     The worst part is I know it shouldn't be and didn't have to be this way. To alter Garth Brooks line a little, "I'm much too young to feel this old." I enjoyed thirty-eight years of reckless abandon and now the party is over, or else the party will truly be over much sooner than necessary. Not a single Britton man in my lifetime has lived past 65 or lived past 65 without having had at least one heart attack, and the way I've lived I am on the same path. I'm not sad, just disappointed. I have shown no self discipline. Eighteen years ago I battled a very strong drinking problem but I beat it and have continued to beat it every day for 6,420 days in a row. Unfortunately I traded it for a socially acceptable addiction, food. And I can rarely beat it for more than three or four days in a row.
     I didn't write this for sympathy or pity, or to get encouragement. I wrote it as therapy. It's what's on my mind today and I'm trying to take out my trash before I go to bed. The good news is, it is mostly fixable with lifestyle changes. Eat healthier, drink lots of water and exercise regularly and most of this stuff will go away and I can fix myself. Speaking of that, I think I'll go fix myself a little snack before bed ;)

Put Another Dime In The Jukebox

     Every child of the 80's recognizes those E-E-A-B chords that kick off the Joan Jett & The Blackhearts hit "I Love Rock-n-Roll. Back in those days we would go to the Pizza Hut on Friday night or the skating ring on Saturday night and fill the jukebox with quarters. It was great because you could play the songs you loved, but you'd also get exposed to music you might not have known that other people selected. We don't have that luxury anymore, but that doesn't mean we can't expose one another to new music (even if it's old music). For a long time I have intended to write about music that you may not be familiar with, but you need to give a chance. My musical tastes have grown and changed so much in my lifetime. The first song I remember knowing and liking (read: standing on my parents bed in my underoos, looking in the mirror, using a hairbrush for a mic to sing at the top of my lungs) was "Another One Bites The Dust" by Queen. It's so funny looking back, because I can vividly remember thinking to my little five year old self, "I sound just like him" as it blasted from mamma's stereo while she listened to WZYP getting ready for work in the morning. Then came the early to mid 80's and I was convinced I was Simon Le Bon from Duran Duran. As the late 80's and middle school rolled around I drifted into Hair Metal (Poison, Bon Jovi, Motley Crue), then hip hop (MC Hammer, Beastie Boys), by high school the 90's had arrived along with Grunge (Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden). Mixed in was the country music my dad liked, along with 50's music he listened to when he picked me up from school. Eventually I locked in on the Black Crowes (of course if you've read anything I've written you probably already know that). In early adulthood there was a bluegrass phase and the occasional pop song, but for the longest time I stopped accepting any new music. Not because I didn't want to, but I just didn't have time to listen to new stuff. As I've grown older my tastes have mellowed quite a bit, and have even expanded to things I had never heard of or would have even considered. So today, I wanted to share with you a few things you may not have heard before, but you need to know about. This list won't include anything you will likely hear on the radio and certainly not top 40 fare. With Beats Music, Pandora, iTunes Radio, Grooveshark, IHeartRadio, Spotify and all the other online/on demand music sources, you can certainly find these and find the time to give them a spin. You may just find something you didn't realize you loved.

     Gram Parsons - In My Hour Of Darkness (Album - Grievous Angel) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ERhhkjqDGsA; She (Album - The Complete Reprise Sessions) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t6YMdZdD9iQ; Sin City (Album - The Complete Reprise Sessions) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s3Ngs8W3B48. If you haven't heard of Gram Parsons, I guarantee you've heard his influence. The country-rock sound  owes great credit to Gram Parsons. Everyone from Emmylou Harris to The Rolling Stones to The Eagles to Elvis Costello were shaped by his sound. If you like what you hear and really want to dig deep, he was in The Byrds, The Flying Burrito Brothers and frequently dusted with Emmylou Harris. This is what I put on when I just need something easy to listen to.

     Hard Working Americans - Blackland Farmer (Album - Hard Working Americans, this is actually a cover of Frank Miller, 1959) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7mue_VtX2Do; Stomp And Holler (Album -HWA, a Hayes Carl cover) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nXF-qf3_xvQ; The Mountain Song (Album - HWA) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xxt-vOE1JWs (bad quality but the only video I could find). This band is fronted by Todd Snider (heir apparent to Jerry Jeff Walker, John Prine) and made up of members of Widespread Panic, Ryan Adams band The Cardinals, Great American Taxi, and The Derek Trucks Band.

     Trigger Hippy - Heartache On The Line (Album - Trigger Hippy) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zj1lRJdYPSk (this video is from Wanee Fest, picture Bonnaroo for middle aged people, hosted annually by The Allman Brothers and it is about 30 minutes from my house). This band is made up of the drummer from The Black Crowes and members of Gov't Mule and Joan Osborne.

     HTDA - Ice Age (Album - Welcome Oblivion) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oq3pDuJeMqQ This band is a project of Trent Reznor (NIN) and his wife Mariqueen Maandig (West Indian Girls) and friends. Don't let the band name scare you off (it comes from the album title of an early 80's industrial band named Coil that was one of Reznor's musical influences). I'll almost guarantee there is nothing on your iPod like this. I'm not sure if most of what they are playing is even instruments or just Atari's they took apart and hooked to old EKG monitors and keyboards. Regardless, I love their sound and her voice is haunting.

     Drive By Truckers - Outfit (Album - Decoration Day) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HyJ9JfWbKLE This song is written and sung by former member Jason Isbell who is from a little community (Green Hill, AL) 30 minutes from my hometown. 

     Adam Hood - Million Miles Away (Album - 6th Street) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G94mhMI5QYg I saw this guy open for Todd Snider about ten years ago and was blown away. It was just him and an acoustic guitar and he owned the stage for an hour. Afterwards I got to meet him and he was a really cool guy from Alabama. We are the same age and it seems like he collaborated with me on every song he writes. He's tried to break into country music in the last few years (he's toured with Miranda Lambert and Willie Nelson), but unfortunately country music is only making pop music right now so he's had little success in terms of sales and radio play.

     Amos Lee - Arms Of A Woman (Album - Amos Lee) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c_FwGvX_pCI I've only recently gotten into Amos Lee, but what little I've heard is really powerful music. This song almost hypnotizes you. 

     I guess this is more than enough to keep you busy on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Hope you enjoy and hope you expand your horizons a little. Don't worry, I will be doing this again.

PS - feel free to link or suggest your little known favorites in the comments section. I'd love to know what you've discovered.

     

One Life To Live

     I love life! I love everything about it. I love everything about being alive. I love the simple ecstasy of breathing; the way time stops when you taste something delicious; the nostalgia that a scent can bring; the peace that a song can bring to the soul; the contentment that laughing children can cause; the way that a hug is "comfort food" for the heart. Even the pain in life has a certain wonder to it. Perhaps because it forces us to be in the moment. It clears away the clutter and distractions we fill our lives with and screams in our ears, "Be here now! This is happening." I don't enjoy pain, but it tends to be more visceral than most of what occupies our time and energy. Perhaps if I dealt with chronic pain I wouldn't have such a friendly opinion of pain, but in my own experience my pain has been a valuable teacher. If we would take the time, spend less time in front of a screen (said while sitting in front of a screen), and more in the moment/environment in which we find ourselves, it would become vibrantly clear that "life is beautiful, life is wondrous" (Keb Mo, Life Is Beautiful https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OI_GNu8jaSA).
     To borrow/take out of context, a quote from Jonathan Safran Foer (from Extremely Loud And Incredibly Close), "It's a tragedy that we get to live only one life." That's not to say that there aren't times when it's so very hard and seemingly unbearable. There are times that we might be thinking that living once is hard enough, who would want to live more than once. While that is true, most of the time I'm thinking, "I wish I could relive that moment again." I also find myself thinking, "wouldn't it be awesome if we could live more than one life?" The reason is because I just don't think one lifetime is going to be enough to do everything I'd like to do in life. Make no mistake, I'm not griping about the life I've lived. I have been able to experience and enjoy so many things in just 38 years, but I don't know that there is time to do everything I'd like to do, at least not if I want to be a responsible husband/father, which is my main priority. I only have one life to live, but if I had a few more, here's what I'd like to do.
     It would be wonderful to have a life dedicated just to reading. I love to read. I'm not a particularly fast reader, and I certainly don't have a lot of free time to read for pleasure, but I'd love to have a life doing nothing else. I'd like to read all of the classics, both ancient (think Homer) and modern (think Dickens, Bronte, Thoreau, Hemingway, etc). I've read the Bible many times but I'd love to read all the major religious books (Koran, Book of Mormon, the Vedas, Tipitaka, Torah, etc). I'd love to read all of the great books of Christian history (the church fathers, Josephus, Philo, Edersheim, etc). I'd even love to read how to manuals on everything I have an interest in. The idea of spending a lifetime in a library is about as good as it could get for me. Knowing me, I would also like to toss in a few opportunities to teach classes based on all the things I learned in those books. In any lifetime I am sure I would be a talker.
     Currently my parallel life fantasy is spending a lifetime as a chef. Several years ago I learned that I love to cook. It is such a peaceful stress reliever for me that I find myself wishing I could get into a kitchen at times when I find myself stressing out. Truth is it is probably linked to the fact that I'm also a stress eater, but hey there are worse ways to deal with stress than to cook delicious food. I am a good cook, not a great cook, but a good one. I want to be, not just a great one, but a bona fide, legit, chef. My biggest dream in life is to go to culinary school and be trained as a chef. Honestly, I don't have an overwhelming desire to own a restaurant, although I might like to try it; I just want to really know how to cook. Chefs, along with architects and doctors, absolutely fascinate me because of their extensive knowledge. Most anyone can cook edible food, but what a chef does is more akin to art. The creativity, variety, ingredients, presentation and technique of their food transcends just making something to eat. I'd love to have a life dedicated to learning, perfecting and experimenting with cooking.
     For most of my life I have secretly wanted to be a rock star. Well, maybe not a rock star, but a musical performer, mainly a singer. I'm not so much interested in the riches and fame lifestyle, as I am in the performance aspect. I would have never admitted this when I was a preacher (simply for fear of being judged and punished by the brethren), but the reality is, there is an awesome feeling standing in front of an audience and "performing." While I certainly don't think preaching is a performance (or at least it shouldn't be), the fact is, it is. Don't act like you don't judge a preacher's performance, "That was a great sermon....I didn't care for that sermon.....He's an amazing preacher.....I don't really like his preaching", etc. Most of the preachers I have spoken to privately, you know "off the record", admit that it is a rush. Personally I don't think there is anything in the world wrong with that, so long as it doesn't become a performance to you and you don't do it because of the thrill of praise. Most people who do something they truly love get a good feeling from it (don't you imagine a surgeon who saves a life feels awesome when he's done, or a policeman who gets a bad guy off the street?). I would imagine teachers, actors, and musicians feel the same way a preacher does. It's the thrill of standing before an audience, having everyone's attention and imparting to them something you spent a great deal of time, energy and focus learning and developing. It's about connecting with the person listening. To me it's about a bond, that can even be shared between strangers. A "we're all in this together" connection. Sorry, I digress. I have zero musical ability or talent and frankly don't have the time/patience to cultivate it at this point in my life, which is why I'd like to have one to devote to it. I have a decent voice when I sing in my natural voice, which is mostly just in church. I have a hard time not trying to imitate the voice of the singer with music for pleasure, but in church songs I seem to be able to sing in my own voice. I'll never be a singer, but I'd like to know how to sing, like how use what you have properly. I can't help but think that it would be the height of amazing to write and perform your own song in front of a crowd. Along the same lines I'd like to be an actor too. I don't care anything about being famous, but I'd love to have the courage to just be in a play.
     One last thing, I'd like to have a life to just be a nomad. I love the idea of home and all of the wonderful things about a fixated location that is home, but I am also drawn to drifting. I'm not saying I'd like to be alone, but I would love to spend a life just traveling the world and stopping to stay wherever I'd like for as long as I'd like. If you've ever seen the movie Into The Wild you know what I mean (minus the, SPOILER ALERT, dying alone of starvation in the Alaskan wilderness). Whenever I spend time with people from different cultures than me, I learn so much. I think it would be wonderful to spend a life doing that.
     I guess that's enough for anyone. A lifetime devoted to reading, to cooking, to playing music and one to just drifting all over the world from place to place. I know none of that is possible, but what is possible is for me to experiment and learn and grow. Thanks to the internet I am learning and experimenting with all sorts of things in the kitchen. I have made a commitment to read everyday, and though I won't likely get all those things read, I will get a lot. I travel, both foreign and domestic and enjoy a good conversation with a stranger or a local to see what I can learn. I haven't learned an instrument, but I have written a couple of songs and I hope to one day have the courage to sing publicly or be in a play. I guess the point of all this rambling is just to encourage all of us to make sure we are living. Experience life. Experiment with new things. You just might realize that you aren't who you always saw yourself as. I'm trying, but my timidity keeps me close to the shore most of the time. (I have something I am experimenting with that I hope to share with you one day).  I do, however, have a hero in all of this. She has learned to sew, started a jewelry company, started reading and started a book club, learned to paint and draw, opened a homemade candy store, and a dozen other things I just can't think of at the moment. She is always living and growing and exploring and she is my hero in that.

(Lest anyone fear that I'm having a midlife crisis or being consumed by wanderlust and will soon cast off all responsibility and disappear, just click on the link below. It pretty much sums it all up.)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2QT02wxiQXU

Previously on brandonbritton.blogspot.com.......

     After posting almost daily, and certainly weekly, for nearly two years, it has been 8 months (!?!?!) since I last posted anything. The reason for the hiatus? I just didn't have anything to say. If you've read any of my past posts you're probably thinking, "You never had anything to say." That's probably true and is likely still the case, but regardless, I'm ready to start talking. After hiding away like a hermit in my own mind for the past 8 months, I'm in the mood to join the world again. I'm taking a cue from Puxtawanee Phil and poking my head out to determine if I see my shadow.
     Right now I'm sitting in my chair listening to Gram Parsons on Beats Music and watching my dog Nola sleep, and reflecting. Although it would have likely made more sense to do this in December or January at the latest, I wanted to reflect back on some of the things I experienced this past year that make me smile.
     If you've read any of my past comments on my job and the traveling I do because of it, you know it is an emotional pendulum. At times I absolutely love the traveling I get to do, and at times I just wish I could spend two uninterrupted weeks at home, sleeping in my own bed, cooking in my kitchen and being physically present with my family. In the past two years I've learned some valuable lessons about how to manage a life spent on the road and I've also reconnected with some old, good, friends who coincidentally, travel for a living too. We serve as one another's therapists at times when "the road goes on forever." (google Robert Earl Keen if you didn't catch the reference).
     One of the positives that comes with traveling is that you get to see and experience some pretty amazing people, places and things in the process. I wanted to share with you a few from 2013.

     In the music category, as part of Kase's belated birthday present, we got to visit one of his favorite places, the New Orleans Mint, and hear one of his favorite (and mine too) musicians, John Boutte. It was in a super small venue, he even called Kase out during the performance and asked him what song he'd like for him to sing (he said "Treme Song"). Afterwards we got to meet him, and get a photo op. We actually got to talk with him for about ten minutes and he was so nice and carried on the conversation and told us stories from his youth and time in the military.

     That same weekend I got to meet one of my heroes and catch a performance in a record store. If you have ever heard of him I will be more than impressed and we need to be best friends. His name is Big Chief Monk Boudreaux. He is the chief of the Creole Indian tribe The Golden Eagles. You will never hear him played on the radio but he is a music legend in New Orleans. He is pretty much royalty in that town, but he was the nicest guy. He talked to us for a good ten minutes between sets and told us stories about how he got started masking with the indians, how he got started performing and even invited us to his house for Mardi Gras (he literally gave us his address and directions to his house). Seeing him perform was awesome, getting to hang out and talk was one of those moments. Having a few Mardi Gras Indians perform with him was icing on the cake.

     After he performed we got to listen to The Stooges Brass Band perform. They are a defending Street Kings Champions (look it up on youtube). 75% of the music on ESPN is performed by the Stooges Brass Band (if you've heard the Sportscenter "duh-nuh-nuh, duh-nuh-nuh" theme you've heard the SBB). Not to mention, my favorite, and recent Grammy winner, Trombone Shorty, got his start with SBB. They played in The Louisiana Music Factory, which is just an awesome local record store and it was all free!

     In the sports category it was a pretty cool year too. In October and November I had to preach in Tuscaloosa twice. Once was during the weekend of the Alabama/Tennessee game and the other time was the weekend of the Alabama/LSU game. My ticket for the UT game was the best seat I've ever had at a game (7th row, pictured below). The LSU game was not a great seat, but two things made it wonderful: the atmosphere was the most electric I have ever experienced at any sporting event. It was truly crazy and so much fun, even if there hadn't been a football game to follow. The other thing that made it so great was getting to spend some time with one of my oldest and best friends, who just happens to be one of the best dads/husbands I know. We talk and text frequently but we've only actually been together in person twice in the last 17 years. Also, while preaching in New Orleans a friend decided to give my family his season tickets to watch the Saints/49ers game at the Superdome. The seats were great, the game was great and the atmosphere was, well, just what you'd expect from 70,000+ New Orleanians, a celebration. The cherry on top was the fact that their concessions serve jambalaya, gumbo, etoufee, po boys and red beans and rice! Win. 

     In the travel category, I enjoyed getting to visit my 10th country (finally made it to double digits, thank you El Salvador). The trip was made all the better because my youngest went with me, along with tons of friends from back home. I'm excited for this year because I'm scheduled to visit another new country, Honduras (I love getting new stamps on my passport). There is so much more that happened in the 8 month hiatus, but this is all that I feel like talking about right now. Hope to see you soon, and by soon, I mean sooner than 8 months.