The Rob BlogIt's Better Over Here.

The Hike

Gavin loved hiking.

Out here in the woods, with his legs chugging along, he felt almost light. The sun managed it’s way slowly through the leaves and down towards his present location, a rocky bluff on the side of the mountain. He knew he was somewhere in Western North Carolina, but he wasn’t positive of his exact location.

There was one thing he WAS positive of though. Out here he could breathe.

He sat down on the rocks and looked out over the valley below. Far beneath him, the Nantahala River snaked its way through the forest. The steady breeze was moving the leaves in the trees in a rhythm of sorts, and it was hard to hear the river, but every now and again, the two would blend into a beautiful song.

For some reason, being alone here in the mountains made him feel less lonely and closer to God. It wasn’t that he was a pantheist or anything like that, but rather that he felt he could better listen when he was alone.

Back home, things felt…cluttered. His brain didn’t seem to work amidst the constant needs of his job, church and family. He loved them of course, and would do anything for them, but it did make him at times feel tired and unable to process thought.

It hadn’t always been this way, had it? He struggled to remember.

There were a lot of things Gavin could no longer remember. He found as he got older that some memories had crawled into the far recesses of his brain and simply would not emerge no matter how hard he tried. This enraged Shelley, of course. She struggled to see why he couldn’t feel remorse for the things in his past, but how could one be remorseful for something he didn’t even remember?

He slowly stood up and looked down again at the valley. So beautiful.

When Gavin was out here, it had the effect of a prescription drug. The kind of drug made just for him. The kind of drug that could lift his sadness and give him a clear head. The kind of drug the doctors told him didn’t exist for his condition.

He longed for Shelley to join him, out here in the woods. If she would, he thought, she would see me for who I really am.

But was that true? Was the person in the woods the real him or was it simply who he wished he could be? Was the real him the man back home?

It didn’t matter really, because she would never meet the man in the woods. Long ago, Shelley had been hit by a car as she was out walking. It had been a horrible accident, leaving her in the hospital for months and years of therapy afterward. You couldn’t see it now, but every step, even on carpet hurt her a little. Hiking was out of the question.

Sometimes, this seemed to be a good explanation for their entire marriage- Each of them unable to join the other. She couldn’t do the things that set him free and he couldn’t free his mind for her.

Both were cages.

He wondered for a moment, how long they could last like this.

The very thought of being without her made his head reel, and he had to reach out and steady himself by grabbing the nearest tree. He bent over, thinking he might be sick for a moment, but slowly, the feeling dread passed, as it always did. He straightened up, and gazed out over the valley.

Along the tree line in the far distance, he saw a thin black line. For just a moment, the breeze picked up, throwing leaves around him in a tiny whirlwind. The sweet smell of summer rain reached into his senses.

A storm was coming.

Gavin glanced at the ridge one more time. What he would like to do would be to find a dense grove of trees or perhaps a small cave far up in the mountains and sit protected as the storm passed over him. He would like to close his eyes and listen as the rain fell down all around him. He would like to stand in it and let the wet mountain air embrace and clear the sweat away.

Instead, he turned and began the walk back to the main trail that would lead down the mountain and then eventually back to his truck.

After all, a storm was coming.

Well, we are back from the first night of recording at Kinsey Studios… Had a great time.

Here’s a brief montage of what went down.

ROB AND PAUL – RECORDING SHOES AND BLACKBERRY WINE

Recording (Day 1)

Tonight, I’m headed into the studio to begin recording the new E.P.

I’m really not sure how I feel about it yet. One of the drawbacks to having OCD is your inability to always feel like you know you should. So, while I am excited, I don’t feel excited, if that makes any sense.

Who knows, maybe it’s just the fact that I know I’m way past any record contract (they don’t give them to people at my old age…you can’t make the kids happy if you relate more to 6 year olds than 16 year olds…) and so I’m free to relax and just let it happen.

By my side is the unflappable Paul Garner. Paul and I have played together a few times, but we’ve never recorded together. He is a little older than I am, and in the past, Typical Sloan owed many of our first gigs to Patmos, Paul’s insane heavy-hair rock band. (Much love to Derrick, Dave and Dennis as well…) Paul is a great guitarist with more musical talent in his pinky than I have in my whole body.

Paul and I work together now and played together for the first time last year at the request of Beecher, our Company President. It was delightful. Together with The Slinky, Keilor Barr and Gabe Rice, we had a short-lived project called The Good Dream Academy. (r.i.p. or on hiatus? No one knows for sure…) We had a good synergy, and when asked to do a solo show, I asked Paul to accompany me. It was a fantastic night.

At some point, I decided that I’d rather not let any of the new songs I’d been working on disappear, and Paul suggested we head into the studio to lay them down. Paul is a very calm presence in stark contrast to my loud whirlwind of a personality, so I’ll be interested to see what comes out. Paul is a bit of a perfectionist, while I prefer the loose sound of first takes. Paul wants things tight as can be and I find organic mistakes charming.

This will be awesome or horrible. I love it.

(Note: I’ll take some pictures and video as we go to catalog the process. It will be the first time I’ve documented time in the studio. Hmmm.)

The Trade

It isn’t every day that you get offered the chance to have one free Saturday morning to fish every month. A man would be crazy to turn it down. So why is it that I haven’t taken my mother up on her offer yet?

I guess that would require some explanation.

You see, my Mother is by far, the hardest working person that I’ve ever known. She seems able to bear any weight. She raised my brother and I and once Dad died, she stayed pretty well put together. She has never remarried. That’s probably a good thing, since I don’t think there is a man on the planet that could bear the sure embarrassment at finding out he was that much weaker than his wife…

When Mom finally made the move to Tennessee, she brought with her my Grandparents, Nana and Cappy. It wasn’t long after the move that Nana became terribly ill and eventually died. Mom cared for her up until her death with the devotion that one can only have for their mother.

She has sisters, who visit from time to time, but in the end, it’s Mom who cares for Cappy now, and she has been doing so for years. Plodding along, steady at the wheel, every single day. No help in sight. She has long ago stopped going to Church. Social life? Don’t make her laugh. Her best friends are her home-bound Father and her grandkids. (all under the age of 7)

My brother and I help when we can of course, but this is that time of life when young men throw themselves into their careers, and that doesn’t leave much time for, well, anything.

The most amazing thing is that she never complains. Never gets too tired. I can only imagine that happens at night, just before bed when she falls into a deep sleep. It’s the kind of sleep that is interrupted by her coughing, incontinent, elderly father.

So, a few months ago, my mother approached me with an idea. She would swap me a Saturday a month. I could go fishing on my day and she would watch the boys. (Typically, April is doing her Masters homework, so I can’t fish since I’m running the show.) On Mom’s day, I would watch Cappy and my boys while she does whatever she wants.

Now, this would be a no-brainer if it weren’t for the incontinence of my grandfather. I have changed plenty of diapers in my day, but it’s one thing changing your kid and another thing entirely to change your grandfather. I have done it a few times, and it isn’t something you get used to.

The idea is terrifying to me.

To be honest, I don’t know that his ego can even take it. He has a familiarity with my mom that he and I don’t share.

Now, here’s the rub. I also feel convicted that I need to do this to help my Mom out. God knows, she’s been at this far too long by herself. The scriptures tell us to care for the widow. I shouldn’t need a fishing day to be the incentive. Just the fact that mom is alone should be enough. It sucks that I’m so uncomfortable and selfish…

So, I think I’m going to do it.

I’m not exactly excited about the idea of learning hands-on elderly care (ironic eh, given the fact that I work in the elder care industry…trust me when I say that I really admire our caregivers who do this sort of thing every day all day.) but I am excited about giving my mom some time to herself.

Ok people, new adventure… Ready? Go.

Dear Cupcake,

Dear Cupcake,

It’s no secret that I love food. If I didn’t love food, I wouldn’t be on this diet. But what you may not know is that I truly love local food.

You’ve all read about my love for Earls (r.i.p.) and Jenkins restaurants. I like local food for the same reason that I love almost any local business. I simply believe that in most cases, though you may pay a little more, the product is better. I love the unique things that make Cleveland (and anywhere) special.

Now, here’s another secret. I don’t like candy. It’s true. I did not get overweight from eating chocolate or hard candies. Nope, it was the baked goods that did me in. I love them. Cookies, brownies and cakes…

The Cupcake Divas are a couple of gals that have opened up shop right here in Cleveland, Tennessee and to quote one of the owners, “We use a lot of butter here.”

Now THAT’S what I’m talking about!

I’d driven by their shop a few times, but never stopped. Then, The Slinky told me that he’d become a believer. Well, as you know, I never let The Slinky stay ahead of me for long, so I determined to try it out.

Today, after Slinky told me that he’d been by there on his break, I determined that I couldn’t wait any longer.

I stopped by the shop and ordered their special of the day, “Italian Cream” and darned if it wasn’t the best cupcake I’ve ever tasted. I never would have believed it, but there really is something to this cupcake thing.

For one, the taste and texture were awesome. It was a dense, rich almond cake with a heavy, decadent butter cream frosting on top. The outside of the cake was made by fusing coconut and almonds into a fine crust. Each forkful brought me sweet nirvana, and here’s the most important element- the cupcakes aren’t too big, so right when you start feeling like it’s too rich, you’re finished. (Slinky had sworn to this, but I didn’t believe him. Turns out he doesn’t ALWAYS lie about stuff…)

So, for those of you out there in Rob Blog land who enjoy a sweet treat every now and again, I full endorse The Cupcake Divas… you can check out their daily specials and menu by friending them on Facebook, and then stop in and have a cupcake. You won’t be sorry.

(Note: I was in no way paid to do this review. My findings are based solely on my love of good food.)

People Making Bad Decisions

I spent some time on the phone today with an old friend. He doesn’t get on the internet much, so I have no fear of him reading this, and to be honest, I’d still write even if I knew he would read it.

It was in some ways, a very nice call. This is a dear old friend of mine, and we love each other like brothers, even though we don’t keep in touch like we should. We know how to make each other laugh and we dig music in the same ways. (He’s a very talented musician) In other ways though, it was a very sad call. I listened as he nonchalantly told me how he was divorcing his wife. he simply “didn’t love her as much as she loved him” and “if they’d lived together first, they never would have gotten married.”

I knew that they had been having some trouble, but I had no idea things were so bad. To make things worse, I could tell that his mind was made up and no amount of argument would change it. To make matters worse, he began telling me about another old friend and how he had gone off the deep end, cheating on his wife multiple times and then getting fired for looking at pornography on a school computer where he was a teacher. (There were other things too, far worse.) Now, he apparently was back with his wife, but wasn’t being faithful, hitting on girls 20 years younger than himself.

It hurt listening to the stories, and I simply had to shake my head and fight back the anger.

It wasn’t the cheating or the divorce that angered me. That may surprise you, so I want to make myself clear. I don’t think that divorce or cheating on your spouse are acceptable. But here’s the thing… people in this life make mistakes. They sin. They fall. We all do in some way. So, I was sad, but not angered by those things. No, what angered me was the way that they seemed devoid of shame. Somehow, cheating and debauchery were completely acceptable.

I wonder sometimes where shame has gone.

It’s tough to imagine pride without shame, but somehow, we have that in spades around here…

The History of Religion

I saw this over at Eric Wilbank’s Blog, and felt like it needed to get a re-post over here at The Rob Blog.

It’s very cool to watch this map and contemplate the movement of religion and its consequence. I like to sit back and think about the implications involved with viewing religion with eyes open. What happens when you look at things that really happened through the lens of how and when it truly happened? For some reason, a lot of Christians simply can’t fathom a world that exists outside of their Sunday-school versions… I think there is far more to be gained from an honest look.

Check it out and let me know what you think.

History Of Religion

I’m at Life Care Center of Cleveland today, attending the 40 year anniversary celebration. Good times. Good times…

Sent from my iPhone

Posted via email from Rob Alderman

Everywhere I Go

There are some great songs in the World. As a pop-culture enthusiast, it’s my passion to find them and listen to them over and over and over again. You know how I am, right?

Anyway, I always like to bring you the things that make me happy, especially when they involve music, books, films or TV shows.

In the world of music, there are so many things to be thankful for. Johnny Cash, U2, Dylan, Beethoven and this little gem. In all honesty, this is one of my favorite songs ever. It comes to us via “Moose A. Moose” who is a host on Noggin, a show on Nic Jr. Yeah, you heard me. One of the greatest songs ever written is performed by a cartoon moose on a kids show.

I stand by this. Give it a listen.

Everywhere I Go

CAFFEINE AND GREEK

A lot of people ask me what kind of Bible I read and the answer isn’t as easy as you might think.

You see, I tend to use several. Here is an approximate break down-

My standard reading Bible is the NASB. There are a few reasons for this, but the main reason is that it was the required text from Bethel Theological Seminary in St. Paul where I received my Masters degree in “Uppity Theologian Who Thinks He’s Always Right”.

For sacred occasions such as reading the Christ Birth at Christmas time, I prefer the St. John Bible. This is a hand scribed book and I never cease to be amazed at it’s beauty.

I still casually read from my NIV Bible that I was presented upon my graduation at Lee University. The inside has an inscription by President Paul Conn himself! How’s that for your tuition dollars at work?

Now things get a bit trickier.

If I’m studying the New Testament in an effort to introduce context and proper meaning, I use Marshall’s NASB-NIV Parallel. It’s a nice sturdy hardbound edition that April got for me years ago, and you can read all three translations (Greek, NASB and NIV) at once.

I also like to read The Message (not a true translation, I know…) when preparing a lecture or sermon. I thing Peterson is a linguistic genius and we can probably get closer to the spirit of the text from the Message on most days than we can from any real “translation”.

I have a small pocket version of the ESV that was presented to me on the evening of my Ordination into the ministry. I don’t read it much, but I do often keep it in my back pocket just in case.

You will notice that nowhere on the list is the King James or the New King James. I know that many pastors love the sound of the King James while screaming it. It definitely has an air of authority to it and with the proper Southern twang it can sound downright brimstone-y. A definite must-have if reminding people that they have a one-way ticket to Hell.

In my opinion, neither of these texts are better than the NASB or ESV and in most cases, The Message will serve your purpose better anyway.

Now, on to the matter of Coffee…

Starbucks or Dunkin. Period.