There's a John Prine song where he says "...not much..." and I can't remember anything else from it... But that part is swimming around in my head this morning. I'm sure that makes sense.
I did attend the Northrup vs. South Side freshman football game last night. Jane had class so I sat by myself in the rain. It didn't start raining until I got there. Fortunately I took a poncho. It was fun though. I was thinking throughout that maybe I would make a better freshman football coach than a pastor. And for most of the game I watched the interaction between the players and coaches on the sideline instead of the game. I briefly thought about offering to be a volunteer assistant. Maybe I could fill the water bottles or something, I dunno. It was also interesting to see the kids who had talent oozing from their bones, and how hard they worked to "look cool." But there were a couple of kids that were like 5'3" and 100 lbs. who were actually better "players" than them because of their hustle and heart. I suppose there's a church illustration there. Like, some people *know* a lot about the Bible and Jesus and whatnot, but that doesn't necessarily translate into... whatever.
I came home and ran my 5 miles much later than I should have, and watched some really bad speeches. I think somebody must have slipped Cindy McMahon some downers - or she dipped into some of her Anheiser-Busch stock before speaking. I felt bad for a couple of the speakers - and not just because they had to watch all the dancing going on. Reminded me of Elaine Benis. In general, John-Boy's speech was ok. Probably better than most of the other speakers at the rnc. The best thing I heard throughout this convention was him saying, "I hate war." I believe him too. But I don't think he plays that out the same way I do. Our faith is in totally different things/people.
Other than that... I feel weird today. Not sure why. Quiet. And I don't know what to do. I guess I haven't dusted in awhile. And the dog hasn't been out to the bathroom yet. I should probably carry him outside.
Oh... I did have one thought last night. Is it just me, or does Hank Hill's dad (Cotton) kind of remind you of John? Instead of no shins, he just can't raise his arms. That's what I kept thinking as I watched him talk last night.
Ok. Carry on. Peace out; and in.