BITR: One thing that annoys the living daylights out of me

Ever since I got the job of riding on a truck for 10 hours a day, I haven’t had any trouble sleeping. It’s a lot of riding, I know; but that really can take the energy out of you. Not to mention loading and unloading the truck several times a day. The first time I ever rode on the truck for a full day, I came home and just laid on my bed until I fell asleep. This was at about 8 pm. I woke up later at about midnight with my lights and my work clothes still on. After I had changed clothes and turned the lights off, I immediately went back to bed. The next morning I got up at 9 am, feeling like I had slept for an entire epoch.

Maybe I’m just really weak or something, but the job always keeps me ready to hit the hay every night. On weekends I tend to sleep about 10 hours at night and then take a nap on the afternoon of the next day (unless I have to get up for church in the morning). I can fall asleep almost anywhere, and many times at home I don’t actually fall asleep in my own bed. But I do get there, eventually.

I love sleeping, though. I love being able to close my eyes and zone out of consciousness, fulfilling my body’s need for rest. That’s why I get so angry when my ability to fall asleep is somehow taken from me. I do all the right things. I drink milk, get a little snack, make sure the temperature in the house is right, and find a TV program that is watchable but not so entertaining that it keeps me awake (ESPN, The Weather Channel, or an educational program usually do the job). Sometimes I start reading a chapter of a book and that almost always makes me fall asleep. The methods are out there, but sometimes none of them produce any kind of results.

I say this because apparently over the last few days I have been afflicted with some kind of plague or something. It started as a Sunday afternoon post-nap headache, but as of last night it was the thing that was keeping my body from its desired rest. Sure, I fell asleep initially. But at 3 am I awoke to the burning pain of cold air passing through my inflamed nostrils and throat. Unless I figured out a way to breathe out of something besides my face, or simply not breathe at all, I wasn’t going to be sleeping anymore. And about 13 hours later, I still haven’t.

Of course, affliction isn’t necessarily the only thing that can keep a person up at night. Christmas, for instance, is sure to keep me from my REM goodness. On Christmas Eve, I’m always so excited about opening presents in the morning that I have absolutely no desire to rest. It’s all about getting that Nintendo 64 out of the box and playing Super Mario 64 for the first time ever. Nothing else matters. I’m 22 and I still feel this way.

Lying in bed without being able to sleep is just about the most annoying thing imaginable. When I’ve already watched Elimidate 8 times, memorized the local forecast (on every 8 of the hour), and seen the same old MLB highlights of Josh Hamilton going yard 28 times in the first round of the home run derby, I start moving towards borderline insanity. Then I look over at the clock and realize I’m supposed to get up in an hour, and there’s already some light on the horizon outside my window. This is a bad thing.

I hate not being able to sleep. I hate it with a passion. I love rest like I love a great meal at Cracker Barrel. When I can’t get it and, worse than that, when I have to lie in bed and think about how I can’t get it, everything in my world goes wrong. It doesn’t happen all that much anymore, but when it does, it sure does make me thankful for the nights that I lay my head down on a pillow and go to sleep almost instantly.

(p)age after (p)age

Tonight I was on the Target side of Trussville walking down that big strip of stores right by the highway. I was by myself, walking the sidewalk from Target to Books-a-Million. Observing the parking lot scenery as I walked, I noticed that a few of the smaller stores were already closed for the night. Most of the lights were out inside, and dark silhouettes of chairs and shelves rose from the floors and stood still in the middle of the dim shops. A light was left on as they always are left on in these places, I never have understood why. What is there to see and who is there to see it anyway?

Closed businesses look very strange at night. All the people who work there in the day are gone and the building is just left there by itself to wait until the next day when the people come back to work again. Sometimes when I drive home at night, I go by the place I work and glance at the all-too familiar thrift store with its long aisles of clothing and furniture, all dimly lit by the lights that have been left on. In the daytime, customers are going in and out, walking up the aisles and looking for junk they can buy. At the cash registers, Joan and Fannie are checking out the customers, taking their money and giving them change. Every now and then a customer will give them a tag, and they will call over their radios to a Royal Pine guy, who comes to load up the customer’s furniture for them.

The workers who price the merchandise come out from the doors in the back every now and then with buggies full of more items to sell. They push their buggies to their respective departments in the store, stopping every now and then to put something in its proper place. Sometimes they will get caught up in a conversation with a customer, and after several minutes of gossiping and speculating on what this world’s coming to, they will get on with their duties.

At the back, where we take in donations, sits a pile of unusable junk along with broken furniture and stained mattresses. Eddie and I, on our Mission: Possible Bargain Center box-truck, routinely bring in loads of new items and then haul off all the garbage to the landfill. Eddie eases the truck in to the loading dock while I stare blankly ahead, waiting to get out and go grab a bite to eat next door at Jack’s. We make our way in, making small talk with everybody we meet on our way to the time clock. On good days, when we are feeling well and have plenty of energy, we stop and get into elaborate, detailed conversations. On bad days, or even just normal days (and believe me, there are more of these than good ones), we muster up a “Hey, how are you?” or in Eddie’s case a low, “Alright man” and just keep walking. The only real goal here is to finish the day and go home.

The other day, after everything was finished and nothing was left to be done, Seth and I took a golf club out behind the store and practiced our swings on a few glass whisky bottles. We made a complete and total mess, and I couldn’t help but cringe at the crunching sound the cars made as they pulled up to the dock and right over the tiny pieces of glass strewn out in the lot. I left at 6 pm that day, making sure to avoid the broken glass as I drove around the building to take the side road out to the highway. The sun crept down in the sky and an hour later Seth left along with everyone else. And when we were all gone the place became still and quiet.

For two and a half years I have been working at that thrift store. I stay there until evening on the days I work, and then I return in the morning to do it all over again. Two and a half years. I’ve become pretty familiar with a lot of things that go on there. I know that every time Eddie and I get back with a load, Charlie, who works at the back door, is going to ask if we are going to the dump. I know that almost every night, the same customers are going to come in 30 minutes or less before we close and wait until exactly 7 pm to pay for their items. I know that every Monday morning we are all going to complain about what a mess it is in the back, and about how people who leave their garbage there while we are closed are evil, worthless, trashy, selfish scumbags who should take their crap to the dump where it belongs. And of course, I know that every morning I am going to find a way to get to Jack’s so I can get my morning sausage or gravy biscuit, medium sweet tea, and daily newspaper.

It’s been two and a half years. When I first signed up for this I never thought I would be here for this long.

But I’m still there, and no end is in sight. Sometimes it seems to me that in life you go through seasons and periods where things change but they don’t really. It’s like you are reading a book and there is page after page but you keep wondering when this chapter is going to end and when the next one is actually going to begin. When I graduated high school, I really did begin a new chapter in my life. A lot of things changed then. I had to start accepting more responsibility, I no longer got to see my friends every single day, I had to get a job, my dog died, I started college, and so many other things happened that made life different. But that chapter is still going on, partly because of my indecision and mistakes that I’ve made, but also because of circumstances beyond my control.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate my job. I get a lot of privileges there that I wouldn’t want to go without. But I guess a person goes down a certain road for a substantial length of time and he gets tired of that road and starts wanting to travel a new one – especially if he knows that the road he’s on was never going to take him anywhere in the first place. I think I’m that guy.

So here’s to the day when I drive by the thrift store, see the dim lights on with no cars in the parking lot, and think to myself, “Man, I remember those years I spent there.” And then I will think about Charlie, Metal Man (Ron), Eddie, Wanda, “Black Santa Clause,” Bobby, TeLisa, Seth, all the Royal Pine guys, and everybody else who made my first job a little more interesting or frustrating or tolerable. I will smile to myself, thinking of all the TVs that were busted with bowling balls, the funny looking hats that were tried on, and the many accidents that happened because of carelessness. And I will remember that the years that went by at that place really weren’t bad at all, but the years to come proved that leaving at the right time was the right choice - and the perfect setup for a brand new chapter.

Please Pray for Andy's Father

Some of the people who read this blog probably already know about this, but in case you don't know, Andy's father had a massive heart attack earlier today. From what I heard, he is going to be alright but is currently in ICU at the hospital.

Andy has been a dear friend of mine for a very long time. I guess he is not necessarily my "youth pastor" anymore, but either way he is definitely THE spiritual leader in my life right now, and has been for the last several years. Andy has shaped me perhaps more than any other person I know, and has clearly made a giant impact on my life in many ways.

I am positive that Andy's dad played a giant role in the person he is, so I ask you to please pray for him. Pray for Andy's dad and Andy and their whole family as they go through a very scary circumstance. May God take care of his health and that whole family in this difficult time.

BITR: Leprechauns

"It could be a crackhead that got hold to da wrong stuff!"

What is a leprechaun exactly? We are all familiar with that green character with the four-leaf clover on our Lucky Charms boxes, but where did this guy actually come from?

Well, the truth is leprechauns come from Irish folklore - usually very brief tales attached to local names and scenery. The tales were told in conversation, and leprechauns always have very unique characteristics about them. For instance, leprechauns are almost always associated with gold. If one day you happened to capture a leprechaun, chances are the leprechaun would try to offer you gold to let him go. When you actually did let the little man go, he would probably trick you and disappear. It is said that you must always keep your eyes on a leprechaun because right when you look away, they can vanish.

Leprechauns are also generally shoemakers, and one interesting fact is that prior to the 20th century, they wore red coats, not green.

So there you have it... leprechauns. Fictional characters in old Irish folklore that are completely made up and couldn't possibly be real.

OR COULD THEY???

Not knowing nothing about anything

Over a year ago when I decided to take some time off from college, I made up my mind that even though I would be out of school, I wasn't going to stop learning. I needed to find out what I was interested in, what kind of things I liked, and what I felt like I was able to do. Of course I didn't go to the library and check out all of the career books on the shelves. Instead I read books that somehow captured my interest, from Harry Potter to Steinbeck novels to books about God - and several others as well. On the bookshelf to my right is a book written by an agnostic journalist about the Christian belief in the end of the world. This book is also stacked right next to a book about ninjas called "REAL Ultimate Power: The Official Ninja Book". The subtext on the cover of the book says this:

"Hi, this book is all about ninjas, REAL NINJAS. This book is awesome. My name is Robert and I can't stop thinking about ninjas. These guys are cool; and by cool, I mean totally sweet."

A few books down from that is a book called "Prayer" by Philip Yancey, who is definitely among my favorite of Christian authors. On the other side of this shelf sits my collection of Donald Miller books, maybe my favorites of all. And next to these books are my three Bibles.

It's not just books either. My favorite channel on television is the History channel, and usually in the rare moments when I actually sit down to watch TV, this is what I watch. I also have a few podcasts I subscribe to that basically help me learn about certain things while I'm on the go. To keep up with current events, I read the paper every day. My favorite section is the editorials, because it's fun when locals say ridiculous things publicly. And it's even more fun when other locals respond over the next few days... publicly.

I don't consider myself a particularly smart human being at all. I was in the "gifted" class as a child, but barely. When I was in 5th grade my teacher got me to take the "gifted" test and I failed it. Somehow the same teacher persuaded the people in charge of the "gifted" program to let me take the test again, so I did and passed it the second time. To this day I don't understand what difference it made in my life. I got to leave class every now and then, but what I remember the most is how my peers made fun of me and called the R.L.C. program I was in "Retarded Little Children." Being gifted is good and all, but like I say it didn't make much of a difference to me. I still made mediocre grades. I got a 24 on my ACT in high school, which is good but not great. And I can still remember the D, near F in pre-cal, that almost kept me from graduating my senior year.

I say this because I want to point out that I'm a very average guy who is trying to make sense of life. If I'm going to have any kind of knowledge about anything, I'm going to have to earn it. So this past year I have simply tried to observe and take in any sort of experience and knowledge like some sort of red-headed sponge.

The thing about learning is that once you know something, you can't un-know it. You can't really take it back. Once you learn something like the fact that your country was established by killing and forcing native Americans off their land, or the fact that REAL ninjas fight ALL THE TIME, or the fact that it takes the light from the stars millions of years to reach the earth, you have to do something with that understanding. It becomes hard to ignore. And unless you have some sort of concussion or brain-altering accident, then it's impossible to un-know. And what happens then?

Well, it changes you. It may not change the fundamental characteristics of who you are, but it alters how you look at things, how you say things, and how you act in certain situations. Roughly a year after I walked away from UAB, Hopewell Baptist Church, my old house, old friends, and a few other things in my life, I am still Matt Benton. But I'm not that Matt Benton anymore. I'm just not the same guy anymore. Why? Because since then I read a book, had a conversation, went on a trip, heard a song, read a blog, heard a sermon, watched a TV show, read something in the Bible, heard a story, wrote a blog, had another conversation, and experienced a certain thing on a certain day. From this random soup of experience and observation I have shaped myself. And that shape is different from what it was in January of 2007.

But sometimes it seems to me like the more I know, the more I realize how much I don't know. Answers are highly overrated, because when you find an answer to a question, a lot of times you will find a whole host of new questions for you to ask. And the process just continues again.

Tonight I don't think I know anything at all. I have my way of looking at things, and there are people out there who think that what I believe is absolute rubbish. A lot of times I look at other things that other people believe and I think they couldn't possibly be true either. Putting your faith in one thing and then discovering that there are a lot of people out there who are completely against what you put your faith in is a frightening thing. It makes you wonder if anyone is really right and anyone is really wrong, or are we just separate groups with opposite opinions?

When this happens I guess it's important to let what you've learned settle in, be humble, trust your own judgment, and then move on the next day. Dive right back in to the mess of contradicting knowledge and ideas. Somehow these things are going to be sorted out, and I might as well play a role in it. Truth may be a very elusive thing to find, but I don't suppose a little more knowledge would hurt.

BITR: How Would I Choose to Die?

I would pave paradise and put up a parking lot.

I was at work today and I happened to notice a book that a co-worker of mine was going to buy. It was titled something like “What You Need to Know about Global Warming and Environmentalism.” Upon further inspection I gathered that what you really need to know about global warming and environmentalism is that they aren’t actually true, or at least global warming is not. Apparently it is a myth created by the crooked media, the money-hungry government, Al Gore, and/or mad scientists who want you to think that the planet is heating up, which would result in very serious consequences for us people.

What an excellent way to die.

If I could choose the manner of my own death I would go back and borrow that book from my co-worker and I would read every single word of it, then I would read it again. I would take in every idea, every fact, all of it. And then after I believed everything that was said in my book, I would go numb to anything else that told me differently. When a news story about climate change would come on TV, I would change the channel. When I would see an article in the paper about it, I would skip over it. “Propaganda,” I would say and then smile to myself because I knew something they didn’t know. I would be on to them.

When I could afford it I would buy a Hummer, even though I don’t have to drive off-road over a mountain to work everyday. I would buy it and cruise around in Trussville all the time. I would leave it running when I stopped anywhere, to keep the a/c cold. After eating a drive-thru Rally’s burger I would toss the bag and wrapper out the window because I don’t want to get my Hummer interior dirty. Besides, it’s not my job to care. The earth is my domain; nothing is going to happen to it.

I could live however I want and not have to worry about how much carbon I am emitting or about how much energy I am using. I wouldn’t care if some corporation was polluting a river somewhere, if an oil spill killed off miles of sea life, or if the sea level was rising year by year. The rapture is going to take me before the world ends, so why care? I could live the way I want to. I am an American, after all.

As I live my life, drive my Hummer, and vote against legislation seeking to help the environment, I would slowly dig mine and everyone else’s grave deeper and deeper. The earth would heat up, the ocean would rise, the polar ice caps would melt, species would go extinct, and I would ignore all of it. Maybe one day when it was too late, when the damage had already been done, I would start to figure things differently. But eventually, after I had raped and plundered God’s creation to get all I could out of it, it would do the same to me.

And I would die and be buried in its mud.

BITR: I would punch a toddler for ______.

What in the world could I possibly want so badly that I would punch a toddler? I think a better question is what wouldn't I punch a toddler for? Look at this kid. He is mean, arrogant, whiny, and extremely self-centered. There is only one cure for that - a very serious butt-kicking.

Spare the rod, spoil the child. That's what the Bible says. But this isn't about my personal parenting convictions. This is a blog about what I want, and what I would do to get it.

I will tell you exactly what I want: world peace. I'm tired of all the violence in this world. I'm tired of the wars and school shootings. Why in the world would a child shoot another child? It is both sad and extremely frightening to know that I live in a world where these things take place. Parents stuff their kids in closets and leave them there for years and sharks eat their own young. That is just plain sick if you ask me.

I want to see a world where we all live in peace. I want a world where President George W. Bush can sit down with President Mahmoud Ahajiamiadnineig7eghjad and talk peacefully about bombing their enemies. A world where the American can get along with the al-Qaida terrorist, and the people who go to church can get along with, well, the other people who go to church. I believe in a world where peace reigns over war and where no one will be oppressed regardless of ethnicity, race, religion, social status, etc. I believe in a world where parents do not beat their children for no good reason and where the kids on the playground don't bully each other. Children are precious to this world, the sign and hope of our future. If we try to do anything that would hurt them then we are only hurting ourselves.

So you say, "Matt, what would you do to bring peace to this world?"

I tell you, I would do anything. I would do anything within my limited abilities to make this world a better place.

"Would you even punch a toddler?"

You better believe I would, twice if I had to.