When D.O. misses Ashton and Hayden and Anson

There are probably 10 things I like about public transportation (more on that later; also, I know it’d be a nicer read to say a hundred things, but let’s be realistic). Perhaps my favorite thing is seeing little kids get on with their parents. They’re usually pretty excited about getting on the bus, and they’re all bundled up like Ralph in the Christmas Story… I don’t know how anybody could see such a sight without smiling.

Today as I rode the bus I thought about how awesome it would be to have the Hendrick boys rolling with me. I think it’d be a first for them. Anson would probably make really smart observations about Philly accompanied by intelligent questions that I wouldn’t know the answers to. Hayden would be at the back of the bus where it’s a slightly elevated and he’d have at least three new friends by the time we got off at Westmoreland. Ashton would spend his time being precious and the old lady who starts talking (to nobody) immediately as she boards at Susquehanna would tell me stories about when her kid was his age…

Unfortunately, I have yet to muster up the courage to take pictures on the bus, so we’re left with a(nother) picture of me at the Liberty Bell, thinking about my friends from College Station.

Boys, I miss you guys a lot. I miss jumping on the trampoline and playing Guitar Hero and just hanging out. Ask your mom about that bell I’m standing in front of in the picture… she’ll know all about it. Love you!

[Note: if all this seems absolutely weird and troublesome, please refer to one of Ashton's recent works of art for clarity. I felt it only fair to create some art of my own in response.]

really botched this one up

Man… (sigh)

I mean, how do you recover from this one? Seriously, it’s pretty bad that Jon forgot Colby’s birthday last week, but this? This is an all time low from D.O.

It’s really a good thing I have a blog that’s viewed by “the masses” allowing me to humbly admit my fault in an attempt to recover from the unthinkable.

Yesterday I freakin’ forgot my father’s birthday. The very man from whose loins I came suffered through his 53th birthday without even enjoying a phone call from his firstborn.

Proverbs 10:1 says, “A wise son brings joy to his father, but a foolish son grief to his mother.” Suffice it to say I’m the latter son. I’ve nothing else to say. Perhaps ever. This might be the end of my interaction with humans as we know it, out of shear shame. Unlikely, but it may be.

Sorry Pops. Happy day after your birthday. Heck, happy week after your birthday.

(unofficial) people of the year award

As I entered my house in Bryan, TX around 9:45pm I greeted my roommate Jay while donning my new jacket I’d just removed from the closet because our house was barely warmer than 49 degrees Fahrenheit (and I’d been wishing I’d packed said jacket all week). Jay and I briefed one another on the happenings of our respective Thanksgiving holidays and in sharing mine I knew I’d be remiss if I failed to make mention of the family Morgan. I felt so greatly indebted and grateful towards these wonderful people that I took a picture of myself holding their family portrait and published it for all of the world’s Internet users to see. I then intentionally decided to leave the reasons behind my indebtedness and gratefulness vague.

(In case you don’t already know what my facial expression pictured above means, its the “uh, yeah, this family rules” face.)

Happy Anniversary!

Let it be known that on this day, April 1, Kyle and Melinda Oliver were wed some 20 or 30 something-odd years ago! Thank you, parents, for being such a good model of what a godly marriage looks like. Also thank you for letting me look as terrible as I want, and loving me anyway.