Guest Posting Tomorrow

Hello,

Go to this blog and see the one I am going to guest on tomorrow.

Do it now or one of Cam Newton's teeth falls out.

Guest Posted Today.

Hello all,

I am just letting all of you know that I guest posted over on Jamie Golden's site.  Click here and go there.  You will find that both links take you to the same place which should show you all just how witty I am.

Go there now or God kills a kitten.

Joseph

PS. Have you ever noticed that Dwight Yokum looks like Ron Howard's brother?

Have a great Tuesday.



Notes to my 16 year old self.

I read a post by Jamie Golden today over on her blog.  It is a really good and well thought out blog.  I knew her when she was 17 and wore big hats.  I left part of the following list as a comment.  It is not as good and not nearly as thought out but it was what came to mind when she invited all who read her blog to think about what to say to their own 16 year old selves.

16 year old Joseph was neither as cool as he thought he was on his best day or as stupid as he thought he was on his worst day.  16 year old Joseph was just that.  16 years old.  I have yet to meet a wise 16 year old.  There is a reason they are not allowed to vote.  Come to think of it I don't think I want to meet a wise 16 year old.  Without further adieu here is a letter I would like to send back in time to 16 year old Joseph Kinnaird.

Dude,

You will still be dude when you are 37.  It will always be one of the most expressive words in the English language.

There are some things you need to know about the you you will be in 2011.  Some of it you called well ahead of time.  Some of it you never saw coming.

You totally married a hot red head.  You have a son named Joseph William Kinnaird III.  You also have a son named James Robert Kinnaird.  Had you gotten your way he would have been named William Wallace Kinnaird.  You can grow a beard like no body's business.  You are a musician.  Not in a hair metal band (Nirvana killed hair metal in 1992).  You play bass in a funky little group called Crowe.  You also play the organ at a church.  You do not believe me and that's OK.  Here is some advice the 37 year old version of you would like to give you.

1. The older you get the more you will look like your father.


2. Send out more invitations to your graduation. Go the the Bessemer Baptist Association and get lists of all the churches there where the median age is 65. Send invitations there. There are only 2 instances in your life where people will be willing to give you money like this. The other is a wedding. The difference being you get to spend all of the graduation money on you and the things you think are important as an 18 year old.

3. Ask more girls on dates. The worst thing they can do is say no.

4. Remember this: Unless it is a felony there is no permanent record.

5. Always trust that inner voice that says, "Someone called the cops and they are on their way."

6. Cut the mullet. Right now. The only way it would look cool is if you were Hispanic or Asian. You are Scottish.

7. Treat everyone the way you want to be treated. If you don't you will feel like a turd forever.

8. Treasure the friends you have right now. You will never have friends like that again.

9. Use conditioner. After you cut the mullet.

10. Remember that dude who made your life a living hell when you were 15. Punch him in the face. Right now. But make it count because he is probably going to kick the taste out of your mouth.

11. Quit smoking.

12. Do not pine after women who date a guy because they have a cool car. They are not all that interesting.

13. After you get the taste back in your mouth punch that dude again.

14. These are some of the people you are going to miss 21 years later: Mrs. Terry, Granny, Dale, and Mother. Make the most of every moment you have with these people.

15. Pull the fire alarm.

16. Go out for football.

17. Learn more Bruce Hornsby songs on the piano while it is still easy to learn.
 
18. Befriend the friendless.  Defend the defenseless.  Love the unlovable.
 
19. Don't be such an insufferable little snot to your teachers.  Karma is a cruel wheel we all spin on.  You will most certainly reap what you sow one day. 
 
20. Don't be so resistant to the concept of grace. Either the grace you show others or the grace you allow others to show you and especially the grace God has in store for you. You can't earn it. There is no brownie point system. Just accept that He loves you and sent his Son to die for you not because you deserve it but simply because He loves you. It is a gift freely given, not a reward.


There is so much more but the mistakes you will make are what makes you the man you'll be when you're 37.  And 37 year old Joseph is blessed beyond measure.

Signed,

37 year old Joseph.

What have I been up to lately?

It has been a awhile since I have shot a blog out there.  Twitter might be a little to blame.  I have been getting some random thoughts out 140 characters at a time.  Beautiful economy of language.  The following are a list of things that have changed or am working on in my life at the moment.

Don't Stop Belizing:  I and 10 of the coolest people I know are taking a trip to Belize to work in the Stan Creek region.  We will be doing some hard labor.  Pouring a foundation for a building and laying concrete block.  There is a time when I would have blown through that work like a trooper.  I now wonder if this work isn't going to kill me.  We leave June 11 and won't be back until June 18.  Please pray that we show love for one another and I don't get a bad case of the grumps.

I grew a beard as a visible sign of the fundraising progress we have made.  It was epic.  It stood outside of most conversation judging them and finding them lacking.  It was that righteous.  It looked like this at the very end.

This is the look I wish I could have kept for a while.  I could have driven around in a van and scared young children.  I think people who look like this should on a watch list of some type.

I think the next one would have been perfect if I could have been a state trooper.  And wear super short shorts.  You know the kind that are short enough for people to see you pockets sticking out of the bottoms of them.  Or I could have played bass for Blue Oyster Cult.

Sadly this is the first real look I had gotten of my face in many years and I know exactly why I had hair growing on it in the first place.



I eventually cleaned up enough to look sort of like the guy Kara married 12 years ago.  She thinks this guy is hot.  And who am I to disagree.  Travel the world and the seven seas.  Everybody is looking for something.

I still have beautiful children.  They stink like boys most of the time and they love like brothers and they fight like brothers.  But they are how I will reach out into eternity.

I have also recently purchased an iPhone.  The 4 no less.  I was told it would change my life.  And it has.  I will now text while having a real conversation with a present person.  I am now that which might be the fall of interpersonal communication as we know it.  I refuse to have a fight via text message.  These are like arguing with a 4 year old.  No one wins.  Fighting and arguing should be things reserved for times when vocal inflection and mean looks are available. 

My cat died back in January.  That coupled with the fact that Auburn won a national championship made January a month that sucked pretty hard.  Kara actually had to take Cat to the vet and have her put down.  I had to leave work early because there is no crying at Bagby Elevator only gnashing teeth and the joy of driving your enemies before you and hearing the lamentations of their women.  Joseph the Barbarian could not be seen crying about a cat.  Even though he had that cat for 15 years.

This is kind of what it felt like for that cat to die for me.  I will never own another animal that I will outlive.

I have been working through a series in the book if 1 John.  A truth I gleamed from this is you can't walk in sin (deliberate, willful, acts of sin) and walk in and with God.  There is not peace to be found in this straddling of paths.  Only more apathy.  Too often we try and do just enough to please God and see how close we can get to the other line to satisfy the cravings person that lives within you. 

You can find peace in the love God has for those He calls His children. I am struggling now to find that peace.  I am struggling to walk a path that is not about getting as close to the edge as possible.  When I live like this I miss the point by  a country mile.  God is there for me when I am there in a relationship with him.  The same can be said for you. 

I am also reading a book.  Quitter by Jon Acuff.  Essentially he is inviting people in a very practical way to bridge the gap between their day job and their dream job.  I usually loathe self help books.  I also detest books on leadership that attempt to quantify leadership in 21 irrefutable laws.  Acuff does not come across as smug or arrogant.  He doesn't think he has most of the answers but he does ask some really good questions that ring in my heart as good questions I am allowed to answer.  I will tell you have the journey with book goes.

I am also finely honing a statement that will my Calvinists heads explode in righteous rage because the ones I am hearing really need to take themselves more seriously.  Here is the rough draft of said statement.

"The best systematic theologies are at best good guesses at something that rebuffs our guesses." Joseph Kinnaird.

Until the next time we meet may the bluebirds fly and do what bluebirds do.

Joseph Kinnaird

Beard Update.

I still have one.  And sweet sassy molassee is it big.

I thought I might dedicate a post to the cultivating and growing of it.  Some of you may think it is cool.  Some gross.  It all depends on your view of such things I guess.  Wait for it.

This was a far less hairy time in my life.  This was actually last May.  I was praying.  For wisdom.

I really like this picture.  I am doing what I love doing most in this world.  Answering a question posed by Debbie Marshall on a trip to a place I have never been. 

This is me doing what I loathe most in this world.  Chicks dig a guy in combat boots, short shorts, and a ferret growing on his face.

This is relatively early in the fund-raising beard.  My head is still relatively proportional to my shoulders.  Proportion is for sissies.

This is a picture that showed up at Jamie Golden's blog.  She will judge every other man she meets by this standard.  And they will be found lacking.

This was a beard I grew right before Billy was born.  I was 30 at the time.  Man I looked young.

Compared to this.  This is 37 year old father of two Joseph Kinnaird.  Notice the two stripes in the middle.  One is named Billy.  The other is James Robert.  This picture was taken 03/28/2011.  As of this date we are around $2200 short of our goal for the mission trip to Belize.

I wanted this shot to give me a proper perspective on how huge my head is.  Granted, Kara has a tiny head. 















She also pointed out that I look like an orangataun.  Like Clyde from Any Which Way You Can.

Beard

For those of you who don't know I have let my beard grow out a little bit.

My beard is now officially something that little kids will stare at.  Strangely enough not many of them are terribly frightened by it.

I am beginning to grow weary of people asking me why it is so long.  I have lately been telling them I have taken a Nazarite vow and the beard is the source of my super-powers.  When they ask what those super-powers are I will narrow my eyes and tell them they should already know. 

Jamie had a suggestion also.  Give people an answer that might make them feel guilty.  Here are a few we thought would be cool.

"I'm covering the cancer."
"I've been letting it grow since my mother was killed by a pack of dogs."

Those were the worst.

For those of you that don't know I am letting my beard grow as a fundraiser.  Westwood Baptist Church is sending a group to Belize this June 11-18.  I have made a vow that I will not cut or shave my beard until we have raised $8,000.00.  So it is sort of like a vow.

It took Tom Hanks 1 year to grow that beard.  It took me 5 months to cultivate that work of art above.  Sissy.

Hey big guy, you through with that plate?

I am fat.

There.

I said it.

I know it.  My friends know it.
The skinny waiter at Olive Garden knows it.
He's the one that called me big guy.  I would have kicked his butt if I weren't out of breath and not out of food. 

I can remember telling my father I would never be as fat as he was.  Well I am.  And I don't drink beer.  They say a beer is like a loaf of bread.  I don't know about that but I have probably had a six pack this week. 

I am fat.

I injured myself trying to put on my boots the other day.  For the past several years I have either worn shoes without laces.  Or taken the laces out of the shoes.  Or worn flip-flops.  Flip-flops are no longer an option because there are low land gorillas with prettier feet than mine. 

I am fat.
How fat are you?

So fat that soon my self-deprecating humor might turn into self-defecating humor.

So fat that people at work ask when the baby is due.  Favorite answer:  20 minutes.

So fat when I sleep on my stomach my knees don't touch the bed.

So fat that if I keep up the pace I'm on I will have to be twelve feet tall to be my ideal weight.

So fat that if I keep up this pace I will be dead before I'm 60.

I have high blood pressure.  High cholesterol.  Bad knees.  Heartburn all the time.

I am fat.
So I begin the process of losing this weight that is killing me. 
I hear crystal meth is a sure way to lose weight in a hurry.

Shovel vs. Hammer. Which is Funnier?

I was thinking about this the other day.  I Tweeted the original question that came to my mind here.  (You should follow me.)  Here is the question as it appeared on my Tweet.
Why is someone getting hit in the face with a shovel intrinsicly funnier than some getting hit in the face with a hammer? Still in the face.

For some reason I pictured someone getting hit in the face with a shovel immediately followed by that same person getting hit in the face with a hammer.  For some reason the image with the shovel made me do a mental giggle while the hammer made me cringe.  Two questions quickly formed in my mind.

1.  Why is a shovel funnier than a hammer?
2.  What kind of person would even think of this?

I was able to come to two reasons as to why a shovel smacking a face is funnier than a hammer.

The first is the sound.  A shovel smacking a face or head would make a SHPONK! or SHPOINK!  Either of these two sounds is infinitely funnier than the splatty thud sound (SHPLUD!?) a hammer would make when striking a face or head.

The second is who would use said shovel or hammer.  I can easily picture Moe Howard striking either of the other two stooges with a shovel with great comedic effect.

 

Not so with the hammer.  The hammer is the weapon of Jason, Michael Myers, or someone from a Tarantino or Cohen Brothers film.

Now that I have managed to suck some of the fun out of a good shovel smacking by breaking it down for you I wish you a Happy New Year.

Several people have commented they have missed my ramblings.  Does it say something that this is the first thing I thought to blog about in nearly 3 months?  The on the field success of the Awbun Tigers has managed to bleed joy out of me.  That might be an explanation.  Either way I hope you have enjoyed this little ramble.

Morgan Freeman Young.

This is not a post (as the title would suggest) about what I would name my 3rd born if my last name were young.

Chris Rock asked a question I have never been able to answer until today.

Has Morgan Freeman ever been young?

The answer is yes.  In the 70's.

Have a great weekend.

Roll Tide!!!

Movies I thought were good but turned out to be bad.

I have always loved movies.  Books too.  I like to escape to a place I will never go and experience a world as a person I will never be.  I am a re-reader.  If I like a book I will read it several times.  If I like a movie I will watch it over and over again.  I have read "Boy's Life" something like 5 times.  I have seen "Dumb and Dumber" over 30 times.  The neat thing about revisiting these classics is catching the little things you missed the first few times.  Like when Lloyd asks the waitress at the diner what the soup dejour is and she says, "It's the soup of the day." completely dead pan.  Lloyd then says, "That sounds good.  I'll have that."  Genius.  Pure GEEENYUSS. 

Good books and good movies get better after repeated readings and viewings.

The opposite is true of bad books and movies. 

I never re-read a bad book.  But I will re-watch a bad movie sometimes because they come on USA or TBS.  One exception to a bad movie getting worse is "Road House".  This is a bad movie but it keeps getting better every time it is on CMT.  It will be late at night and I am getting ready to go to bed and I scan past CMT and see "Roadhouse" on and I know I am up for another 2 hours.  ("Don't eat the big white mint.")

The following is a list of movies I used to think were good but now realize they are bad.

1.  The Notebook:  Good acting.  So-so story.  Rachel McAdams.  What's not to like?  Nobody fights as much as those people and still like each other.  There is one piece of advice I give to dating couples.  If you fight more than you don't it is time to end it.  Because marriage always makes problems go away.  Yeah right.  If this dude had married that girl in the real world he would have killed her before year two was over.  On the bright side neither one of them would have ended up in a nursing home.
I watched this one with Kara.  She said I would like it.  I was crying at the end and she was inconsolable.  I mean she was a wreck.  I hate it when  movie makes me cry about people I don't even like. 

2.  Conan The Barbarian:  I shouldn't have watched this as a kid but I did.  I watched it again this summer.  Ahnuld made this movie before he learned to act.  (Did I actually just type that?)  Anyhow...this was a horrible movie.  At one point he is fighting and he spends 3 minutes of film making Ahnuld noises.  Think the noises he made in Total Recall when he face was getting ready to explode on Mars.  For 3 minutes. 
Best quote from the movie: 
Mongol General: "What is best in life?"

Conan: "To crush your enemies, to see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentations of their women."

To hear this line from Ahnuld's mouth is like music.  At least he could say lamentations.

3. Titanic:  Beautiful looking movie.  Great acting.  Good score.  Kate Winslett.  What's not to like?  Just one little thing that ruined the movie for me after thinking about it.  Toward the end of the movie when the old woman is standing on the back of the boat and she takes the necklace and throws it into the ocean.  What a selfish old hag.  I would have loved it if Bill Paxton's character would have walked around the corner about the same time as she was putting the necklace overboard.  Then I would have loved it if he screamed like a crazy person and thrown her after it.  Then throwing stuff at her every time she surfaced.  "Don't even think about coming back aboard until you have a necklace or $20,000,000.  And you did let go.  Hag."

 

4.  Pretty in Pink:  Molly Ringwald whines on the first date almost non-stop.  They get in an argument.  On the first date.  If I'm the rich guy I drop her off in front of her house 20 minutes in. 

There are plenty of others I am sure.  I can't really remember. 

Are there any movies you now realize steam with badness after a repeated viewing?

Post # 100. "I gave my last $10.00 to a hooker."

This is post #100. 99 times before this I have not told this story. My good friends know it. I told it at church one time. From the pulpit.

This happened while Kara and I were still dating so it was at least 14 or 15 years ago. I was living in Bessemer. She was living in Corner. It was late and I was getting off I-59 at 18th street in Bessemer. It was about 2:00 AM. I notice a woman standing on the corner of the ramp and 19th street. She is all alone.

I have a policy. If I have a get a weird feeling about a person needing a ride I trust that hunch. This hunch is something my forebears used to great effectiveness whilst not getting eaten by sabre-tooth tigers.

I do not get the sabre-tooth vibe when I pull up. She is wearing modest jean shorts (Jorts if you will) and an Auburn t-shirt. (I am making up the part about the Auburn t-shirt* but it does add a certain something to the visual doesn't it) She was alone and I thought it was dangerous for her to be standing on the side of the road in Bessemer at 2:00 in the morning. So I roll down the window and ask, "Do you need a ride?"

She said yes and walked around and got in the car. The following is a transcript of the conversation that ensued.

Me: Where are you going.
Her: I don't know. (Pause) So do you want to fool around or something because I need some money.

This is where a good Christian and minister of the Gospel would have stepped up to the plate and walked through the door He opened and shared had the right words to say. Jesus definitely would have had something to say. He did it all the time.

 I'm not sure I'm a good Christian or not. My father is fond of saying he has tried all his life just to be a bad Christian. And the Gospel is not what went through my head. What went through my head was all of the images I have seen of prostitutes on TV. None of those images featured Jorts. Not. Even. One. There was no Huggy Bear standing off to the side. No high heels. Just a woman in Jorts, Auburn t-shirt, and tennis shoes.

(Transcript continued)

Me: No ma'am. (There's no point in being rude and forgetting my manners is there?)

Me: Are you hungry? Do you need something to eat?

Her: Yes.

So I pulled into a convenience store not far down the road and reached for my wallet. All I had was $10.00. I gave it to her and drove away, mind reeling.

I had just been solicited by a prostitute. Not only that I had been solicited by a prostitute in my car. At 2:00 in the morning.

It is early Sunday morning and I go home and go to sleep. I wake up and go to church and never once tell anyone my story of the night before. My mother was at church that morning. After the service she asked if I wanted to go and get something to eat. I had been waiting to unleash the line in my head all morning and here was the chance.

Me: Yes but you are going to have to pay for it. I don't have any money because I gave my last $10.00 to a hooker last night."

There were several people standing around while this line hit the air. Everyone stopped what they were talking about and looked at me. Including my pastor, Roy Hill. I told the story of being propositioned and relayed my shock at how she did not look like anything I had expected. Nothing like Starskey and Hutch. That was when a woman I went to high school with delivered the best line on the subject.

"You didn't even get a back rub?"

* Note:  The woman holding the Auburn T-Shirt is Kathryn Tucker Windham of Thirteen Ghosts of Alabama fame.  This was chilling stuff for a small tike like me back in the day @ Greenwood Elementary.

My Very First Web Giveaway

I am a sucker for a good story.  Everyone has at one good one.  My father is an encyclopedia of stories about flying planes dangerously.  He and a companion we beat up by a bar full of people that wanted them to bleed.  Bill says that before he blocked out he saw round face and punched it.  As he was coming to he was being dragged out of the bar.  One of the dudes mentioned that he was a heavy son of bad word some people call women.  He has had a beer or 10 with Truman Capote at the Tide and Tiger out side of Legion field in Birmingham.

My stories pale in comparison.

But I do have stories that are funny.  People I have met in nearly 20 years of ministry that crack me up.  And not in a good way.  I have met ministers that I wanted to punch out and I have met sincere brothers and sisters that still make me feel inadequate to the task given me. 

I have loved a few women that broke my heart and found one that put it back together so it fits nicely with hers. 

These are stories that we all have in us. They just want to get out. 

Herein lies my challenge to you dear reader: 
1.  Send me a story.  Let it be honest.  It doesn't have to be a long one.  It doesn't have to be short.  It has to be true. 
2.  If the story invovles me and I did something that changed you life, good or bad, you will get extra points.
3.  If you follow The Blog-o-Log you get extra points.
4.  If you follow me on the Twitter you get extra point and extra nuggets of widsom for your day.  Win/win in my book.

The Prize will be a paper back copy of my favorite book, "Boy's Life." by Robert McCammon.  He is a local writer who made it big telling stories of horror.  "Boy's Life." is nothing like the rest of his cataloge.

The winner will have this book signed (by me of course because I don't know Bobby Mac at all.

Deadline for submissions will be September 10 and precisely 5:17.

These stories need to be told.

Vaya con Dios mis amigos.

Joseph

Things Chinese Christians Don't Worry About.

I recently heard about a pastor who called his deacons together and told them they would no longer be allowed to serve as a deacon if they used tobacco products. 4 promptly resigned. This in turn prompted me to ask this question of myself. "Does the church in China worry about this kind of stuff?"

There are 2 reasons I would mention the church in China.
1. It is being persecuted.
2. It is growing almost exponentially.

These are two things that cannot be said for the church in America. There are many reasons for this. The church is America is comfortable. And when people get comfortable they tend to worry about silly crap.

The following is a list of things Chinese Christians probably don't worry about all that much. This list has not been researched so please don't concern yourself with fact checking. It's all straight out of my noodle.





1. How they are dressed.
2. How long the sermon is.
3. Whether or not Myrtle (or the Chinese equivalent) is going to be on the Kitchen Committee this year.
4. How weird the kids look nowadays.
5. How loud the guitar is.
6. How everyone else is dressed.
7. Electronic Bingo.
8. How the Pastor is not feeding them. (At some point you have to feed yourself there Baby Huey.)
9. How the shades do not match the carpet.
10. Most of the stuff we American Christians fight about.

Does it sound like I might be a bit of a bad mood? Nah.

Absolute Faithfulness.

You might read the title of this little ditty and think I am about to talk about spiritual or marital fidelity.  You would be wrong.  I am talking about the only TV show I have followed from start to finish. 

I have watched Smallville since Episode 1 nearly 10 years ago.  This season, it's 10th, is the last one.  The following is the promo for the current season. 








You really should check out the marvelously cheesy bit of Superman entertainment.

I bet Adam had this problem.

This is a post I submitted to Stuff Christians Like for consideration as a guest poster person. I have yet to hear back from them. Maybe they hate beards too.

I think one of the first things that Eve said to Adam after they settled on the East Side was, “You really need to consider plucking those?” Or it could have been, “You need to shave that off.”

I seriously think it goes that far back. While not unique to Christians per se it is definitely more pronounced. Here are some of the things that have been said to personally, to my face, to me. (Redundancy intended)

“When are you going to get a hair cut.”

“I can’t stand a man with facial hair.” (Of all the depictions of Jesus out there I am sure the only thing we can say for sure is he had a beard...)

“You not tucking in your shirt sends a horrible message to the youth of this church.” (Me being too fat to tuck my shirt in might worse.)


“I can’t handle it when your beard gets that long.” (I have been known to grow a beard long enough to hind a shank in. You just never know when that might come in handy.)


“You looked so nice last Sunday. If you tried you could look that nice every Sunday.” (This is my personal favorite.)


All of the people who made these comments had 2 things in common: They weren’t men and they weren’t my mother.


Why do these nice women think it is OK to do this? All of them said these things to me were sincere and earnest. Now imagine me saying these things to the same women with the same sincerity and earnestness.


“Gee I really like your hair when you let a professional fix it.”


“Those pants would look better if they were at least 12” below your armpits although it will be increasingly difficult to reach over your shoulder and get stuff out of your back pocket.”


“I like your mustache.”


“I love your hair. Where ever did you get that color? Should I go to the Ms. Clairol section and look for the bottle labeled Wayne Newton?”


There are at least two reasons why I only think these things.


1. There is not enough political capitol in this world for me to be able to say any of the above.


2. The possibility that I could grieve the Holy Spirit.


Do these sweet little ladies not know I am a delicate flower who may have issues with my body and I am trying to resolve said issues through baggier clothing? That I don’t wear suits often because I sweat like Whitney Houston? That I grow a beard because it gives the illusion of a chin? But it all goes back to the beginning I believe.


Eve (to Adam): Did that loincloth match when you left the house this morning?


Chalk another one up to original sin.