This Girl...

I am head over heels in love with This Girl...

Everything about Her makes me heart beat faster and my soul fill with happiness.  She is the most genuine and sincere person I have ever met; nothing about Her is fake.  She is respectful and pleasant, rarely ill-tempered.  She takes neither me, nor others, nor life for granted; She appreciates her many blessings.  She does not waste her many talents, and She is always considerate of others.  She is a woman of God; a steward who is unwavering in her Faith. 

She loves to laugh; She loves to smile.  Her nose crinkles ever so slightly when she smiles.

She loves her family, and treats mine like her own.  She knows the value of an amazing family.

She knows and speaks my Love Language, as I know and speak Hers.  She is my best friend...

I have promised my life to This Girl, forsaking all others...

I will honor and respect This Girl for the rest of my life.

God has truly blessed me by bringing Her into my life.

This Girl is My Girl, and I will love Her for always...

**Special thanks to my Brother, Justin, for these photos, and everything else he does for me**

Bumper Stickers

What is it about a car that makes people want to advertise random facts and bits of information?  Personally, I will never disfigure my vehicle with any sort of slogan or picture, and I will likely never understand people who do.

My personal favorite is the honor roll bumper sticker.  We have all seen them: "My Kid is on the Honor Roll at Bla Bla Bla".  What demonstrates pride better than adhering a sticker to the back of your bumper?  I recently saw an interesting variation of this particular sticker.  It proclaimed, "I Love My Kid Even If He Is Not On The Honor Roll".

I could not help but think of ironic bumper stickers to add to this person's vehicle...something along the lines of, "My Kid Hates It When I Patronize Him", and of course, "If My Kid Were On The Honor Roll He Would Know What Patronize Means".

One recent trend that has become particularly annoying is the application of the family stickers on the back windows of mini-vans and SUVs.  The infamous stick figures which inventory each member of the family:

Photo From: http://www.familystickers.com

I can only hope that I do not end up with such a decal on my vehicle at any point in the future.  I am pretty sure that my wife to be feels the same way, but perhaps I should confirm...The only acceptable decals are the removable sort; the nice magnetic football helmets or school logos which can be removed during the off season if desired.

I suppose a bumper sticker is intended to make a bold statement, but I still contend that they are slightly absurd.  I do appreciate the American Pride bumper stickers, but I find it funny when people place them inside the window rather than adhering them permanently.  Such an application states, "I am proud to be and American, but not proud enough to make this a permanent badge on my bumper..." - If you are going to display such a sticker, at least stick it on...

At least those who plaster their cars with the stickers commit to doing so, although I chuckle a little when I see election bumper stickers from years ago.  Bush Cheney '04 Baby!

Ultimately, it is none of my business whether people decide to apply a bumper sticker.  Honestly, this entire blog post is pointless drivel, but hey, I didn't have anything funny or exciting to write about this week.  Sorry for wasting your time...

#craziness

My beautiful fiancé, Jennifer, and family friend, Shelly, decided many months ago to jump out of a perfectly good airplane.  Normally, my Mother-in-Law to be, Susan, would cover such an event on her blog.  She in fact attempted to do so many months ago when the two crazy jumpers attempted their first jump.  

During the first attempt, we all sat around waiting for their turn to go up, up, and away, but the plane’s hydraulics malfunctioned and all remaining jumps for the day were cancelled.  Susan’s prayers were answered that day as she was entirely opposed to the crazy idea.

I suppose if a plane’s hydraulics are going to fail, it would be an ideal time to be wearing a harness and a parachute; it also a great time to have trained professionals on board.

The second attempt came a few months ago.  Shelly and her family were up from Louisville visiting for the weekend, so Jennifer and Shelly decided to use their rain check.  Again, Susan’s prayers were answered and the cloud cover was too thick to allow jumping that weekend.

This past weekend, everyone was in town again and the ladies decided to finally use the rain checks they were given.  We all headed to the airport in Greensburg.  Well, most of us did…Susan opted to stay home rather than condone such activities :)  

I chose to be supportive from the ground as I do not handle heights or general nonsense very well.  The weather was ideal, so they finally had the opportunity to jump.  They were pretty excited.  I was pretty nervous…The hash tag #craziness was appropriate for the day.

Up they went...

Down they came...

At the end of the day, everything went well and they arrived safe and sound.  I still think they are nuts, but I am happy that they were finally able to experience the rush.  I am sure after coming all the way from Louisville twice, Shelly was happy to finally get to jump!

The Meat Makes the Man...

Food has long been a passion of mine.  I love to cook it, I love to eat it, and I love to share it with others.  I think I have an emotional attachment to food because it has always created such great memories for me.  Food often means getting together with friends and family, and fellowship is truly one of God's greatest blessings!

One of my favorite things about cooking is the feeling I get from watching others enjoy what I created.  Not that I cook simply to fish for compliments, but I love to hear how much others enjoy the culinary creation I have prepared.  I most enjoy cooking on a grill.  I currently sport the Weber Genesis:

Genesis E-310 3-Burner Black LP Gas Grill

• Porcelain-Enameled three burner gas grill
• 38000 BTUs
• Front-mounted control panels with cast aluminum end caps
• 637 square inch cooking area
• Porcelain Cast-Iron cooking surface
• Individual electronic ignition modules at each burner
• Stainless Burners
• Safety grip control knobs
• Restyled Stainless Steel work surfaces with Cast Aluminum end caps

Insert Tim the Tool Man Taylor grunting here as needed...She's a beauty, huh?  Three burners of indirect flame...I like to fire it up to 600 degrees to get the cast iron grates exceedingly hot, then kill the gas supply to the middle burner and cook at around 400.  This thing makes grilling easy...

Back to the food...I prefer to grill beef.  There are few things better than a perfectly cooked steak.  My default cut is Strip Steak, but I also enjoy Strip Steak, Sirloin, and Tenderloin (as long as it is not wrapped in bacon - don't get me wrong, I love bacon, but not wrapped around my tenderloin...wait, that sounds odd...).  Anyway, I suggest you procure a nice Strip Steak from you favorite butcher.  Take said Strip Steak, and apply the following rub:

• 1 Tablespoon Montreal Steak Seasoning

• 1 Tablespoon Light Brown Sugar

• 1 Teaspoon Onion Powder
• 1/2 Teaspoon of the following: Paprika, Cayenne Pepper, Garlic Powder

• Olive Oil

1. Get out your mixing bowl and combine the
Montreal Steak Seasoning, light brown sugar, onion powder, 

paprika, cayenne pepper, and garlic powder.
Mix them together well with a fork.

2. Now place your steak on a serving platter or baking dish.
Rub in the spices into the steaks and then place some
olive oil over the rubbed in spices.  Then flip the steaks over and repeat.

At this point you can either wrap the steaks in Saran Wrap and put them in the fridge for a few hours, or you can let them marinate for one hour at room temperature.  

Once the steaks have mingled with the rub, take them out to your preheated grill and toss them on.  For a 1" thick steak, I shoot for 6 minutes per side, which usually ends up Medium.  Only flip them once, and do not peek at them while they are cooking.  Lid down and walk away...As Dad used to tell me, "If your lookin', it's not cookin'!".

After 6 minutes a side, pull those bad boys off the grill and resist the urge to cut into them.  Always let them rest on the plate untouched for at leas 5 minutes to let the juices settle.  If you cut into it immediately, you lose all the juices.

The brown sugar in the rub carmelizes and makes some great char marks:

Mmmmm...That is good eatin'!  

I am a huge fan of A1 Steak Sauce - but not for steaks.  If you have to put A1 on a steak, it either was low quality beef or it was not seasoned/cooked correctly.  A1 if for sandwiches, baked potatoes, or bread only...And for the record, requesting A1 when at someone's house is tantamount to slapping your host/hostess in the face!

My lovely bride to be, Jennifer, recently paid me the absolute best compliment.  Whilst dining at a local "steakhouse" she uttered what was perhaps the most meaningful thing she could say at that very moment...as we sat enjoying dinner together, she looked me right in the eye and said. "Your steak is so much better than this one...".  It brought tears to my eyes, and a smile to my heart.  The meat makes the man, and in her eyes, I am The MAN! 

Reflection...

In the past week, we have all had the opportunity to reflect upon the terrible events of September 11, 2001, as well as the effect that day has had on us all in the decade that has since passed.  It is easy to become lost in the day to day shuffle, and I was happy to see so many taking the time to remember and reflect.

As I was reviewing some media coverage, I came across the article below, which was published in Men's Health Magazine in December, 2001.  The article speaks volumes to me.

It was only recently that I realized my role as a man.  In 2009, and the first part of 2010, I was going through some difficult times.  I took the opportunity to really figure out who I was.  With the help of God and the utilization of the message in John Eldredge's Wild at Heart, I was better able to understand what God meant for me when he made me.

This article was timely in the months following 9/11, and is still relevant today.  In many ways, I feel this article is an Eldredge-esque wake up call for men:

A Man’s Reach By Hugh O’Neill Originally published December 2001 Men's Health Our country has been wounded. We’re grieving the loss from the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, and the death of the passengers who took on a group of terrorists in midair and perished in the woods outside Shanksville, Pennsylvania, saving other folks the bad guys sought to slaughter. In the days right after the assault, like most Americans, we tried to salvage some lesson that might be salve for the ache. But apparently, if you spend too much time thinking about the NFC East, your brain may be overmatched in the brutal terrain of thousands immolated for no reason. We couldn’t form a coherent thought, never mind rescue a sustaining fragment from the ruins. But then, as the full extent of the tragedy became clear, a TV-screen tableau formed an image that will be worth clinging to, whatever happens in the future. Whether the dogs of war are loosed, or wisdom and love can find a way around necessity, the memory of police officers, firefighters, ironworkers, and emergency medical technicians moving methodically over the great heaps of rubble will remain an inspiration for dealing with a crisis and plain old daily life. With a stubborn mix of strength and care, those guys just worked. One chunk, one bucket at a time, they set about moving the mountain of I-beams and concrete and glass that had entombed their countrymen. We were struck by their plain doggedness, the relentless simplicity of lift and carry and continue. Facing an undoable task, they did what men do best—they began. Their ambition extended only to the ends of their arms. Nothing fancy. Just men and their muscles and their wills at work. They looked about them, bent over, and bore away the nearest burden. Here’s the lesson we’re determined to learn. Men are most useful when, like those rescuers, we focus on the small circle around us. We dream of big opportunities—to dazzle hordes of women, to reinvent capitalism, to matter. But so many of us get lost in big plans, or trapped by vague angers and old regrets, that we forget what those rescuers knew—that a man’s job is right here, right now. The opportunities aren’t out there. They’re asleep upstairs, wearing Spider-Man pajamas. They’re at the supermarket buying stuff for dinner, and now, after the attack, a little more fearful for the people they love. Yesterday’s game is in the books. The assignment, lieutenant, is to focus on the task at hand, to seize opportunities that are right in front of you—within your arm’s reach. The word “ambition” has come to mean the drive to move up in the AP rankings, to achieve wealth or standing. But in truth, a man’s “ambit” is nothing more or less than the circle in which he moves, the compass of his connections. We hereby decree that “ambition” is the more modest, but more demanding, urge to enrich the circle in which you move, whether you’re a Wall Street player or a firefighter from Bay Ridge who may die on the way up the stairs of an inferno. The attack on America has, for now, done what all those sixth-grade teachers couldn’t do—wiped that smirk off our faces. It’s a good bet we’ll be wise guys again. But we’re also hoping that the theologian Thomas Moore is right, that melancholy carves out a space in the soul where wisdom can grow. And we’re determined to shrink our circle, commend our attention to that which we can control. We’re going to deploy our love and energy in classrooms, on ball fields, in churches, in bars, in our offices, in the backyard, throughout the ambits of our lives. Don’t mistake us. We remain four-squared behind great achievements in the common world, including the rebuilding of whatever time reveals to be right on the World Trade Center site. But a few months out from this tragedy, we find ourselves in search of a manhood a little more attentive, one that dreams of stewardship, not empire. In all the great men we’ve known—fathers, teachers, brothers, pals—their strength came from a sense of duty. Left foot. Right foot. We’re at war, all right. And terrorism is just one of our enemies. The other is carelessness. To honor the memory of the folks who died, and the service of those who dug, we’re going to try our best to make ourselves useful.

Stewardship.  Serving others with a sense of duty.  Leading and growing my family's Faith.  Loving those around me (or those in "the ambits of our lives").  I will not lose heart, nor sacrifice my strength.



God Bless...

Vintage...

It has been several weeks since my last post, and surprisingly, several people have mentioned that I am slacking.  I am happy that people care enough to notice my procrastination, and apologize for being so lazy...

I thought it would be fun to take a trip down memory lane.  Some of you will not recognize the Bryan you are about to see in the images which follow.  Some of you will remember him fondly.  Some of you will laugh uncontrollably...Prepare for Bryan, circa 2002 to 2005....

Ambition and Potential

We will get things started with a glimpse at my Ball State University student ID.  This beauty brings back some memories...I chose to grow my hair out because honestly, I was not having any luck with the ladies when I had short hair, so I figured it couldn't hurt.  As it turned out, the long hair didn't help much either, but I sure tried.  I would go back to my parents house once a semester to have my Mom cut my hair.   Good times...These days, I would love to have just half of my hair back, but my forehead continues to get larger for some reason. 

The Classic "Less Than Sober" Look 

I am not sure where this picture was taken, but I am fairly certain I might have enjoyed a beverage or two prior to it being taken.  It looks as if I am about to yam all over the place, right?  You may notice the neck tie and button down shirt under that sweet hoodie.  I felt it was important to dress in the proper attire when drinking.

A Tale of Two Brothers

"One of these things is not like the other..." - I used to make fun of my brother for his lack of hair.  I once Photoshopped my magnificent mane onto his head for a birthday card.  Karma is now kicking my butt as my hairline retreats year after year.  We still enjoy goofing off with our nieces and nephew though...

Don't Wanna Brag, But...

      

Check out the pecks on that dude...Full disclosure: I was 117 pounds in the picture above, and I bet a good 2 pounds of that was hair!  Notice the classy PBR...I was clearly just getting started with my love of beer when this picture was taken.  I know this because it was not long after I started drinking beer that I went from that scrawny 117 pound hippie to a 170 pound graduate. 

Is That a Helmet?

I am not really sure what to say about this one...It sort of speaks for itself.  Let's just say that Michael Kelso had some major competition in the Muncie area.

Or was it Davy Jones?

I guess it would depend on the generation which serves as the point of reference.  While working at the frozen yogurt, or "fro-yo" joint, customers commented on my coiffed helmet head, claiming that it was similar to one of the aforementioned.  I just thought it would get me chicks...

Giddy Up

    

Halloween at the yogurt shop gave me the opportunity to break out the cowboy had and pistols.  It was a fun night, especially when a customer came in dressed as an Indian (dot, not feather - sorry if that is offensive to anyone...).  We posed for a cowboy and indian picture.  Probably not the most politically correct picture I have ever been a part of.  I guess after this blog post I cannot run for public office...

Our Lady

Our Grandma is an incredible woman and has inspired and taught me more than I can ever put into words.  I cannot express how much I love her, and I consider myself, and my family, blessed to have her.  That said, we clean up really well.  Just sayin'....

Composite Picture 

Here we have the classic cleaned-up Bryan, complete with dashing smile and snazzy neck tie.  This was the picture taken for my Delta Sigma Pi Business Fraternity composite.  Sadly, shortly after this picture was taken I decided that in order to seek gainful employment at some point I would need to cut my hair.  And thus ended the great hair experiment of 2002 through 2005.

Old Man…

It was not too many years ago my sister used to joke with me about being an old soul…I was known for rocking plaid madras pants on a regular basis.  She once asked me if I beat up a 90 year old and stole his pants, to which I responded, “that is making the assumption that I have the strength to beat up a 90 year old man” (I am not known for my athleticism, or strength…).  I did not listen to any music made after 1974.  I wore a tie nearly everywhere I went.

These days, I still get accused of being old…I drive no more than 5 mph over the speed limit; I think it sort of drives Jennifer batty since she is a speed demon…A safe speed demon – no worries, Susan…PS thank you for teaching her how to talk her way out of a ticket…I have several hats which appear to be from a 70 year old man’s wardrobe.  These are just a few of the reasons why some people may accuse me of being old…

Lately, this week especially, I have been feeling old.  I cannot eat a can of Campbell’s Alphabet Soup without it spelling “indigestion” in my stomach.  It used to spell “yummy” in my tummy.  I went to the gym on Tuesday and I am still sore on Friday – not just sore, but sore to the point that I am considering buying geriatric compression socks at Kroger during my lunch hour just to alleviate the pain in my calves…Yes, I feel old this week.

Old Man take a look at my life…I’m a lot like you.  If I am a bright eyed, bushy tailed 28 year old feeling this old, how old will I feel when I am 75?  If I cannot tolerate American Eagle stores because the music is too loud now, what will become of me later?  It is not that I mind getting older.  It definitely beats the alternative.  I just want this week to finish up so I can walk without cringing…