VIRGINIA BEACH, Va. (AP) - Religious broadcaster Pat Robertson says he has leg-pressed 2,000 pounds, but some say he'd be in a pretty tough spot if he tried.
The "700 Club" host's feat of strength is recounted on the Web site of his Christian Broadcasting Network, in a posting headlined "How Pat Robertson Leg Pressed 2,000 Pounds."
According to the CBN Web site, Robertson worked his way up to lifting a ton with the help of his physician, who is not named. The posting does not say when the lift occurred, but a CBN spokeswoman released photos to The Associated Press that she said showed Robertson lifting 2,000 pounds in 2003, when Robertson was 73. He is now 76.
The Web posting said two men loaded the leg-press machine with 2,000 pounds "and then let it down on Mr. Robertson, who pushed it up one rep and let it go back down again." The Web site said several people witnessed the event, and shows video of Robertson leg-pressing what appears to be 1,000 pounds.
Clay Travis of CBS SportsLine.com called the 2,000-pound assertion impossible in a column this week, writing that the leg-press record for football players at Florida State University is 665 pounds less.
"Where in the world did Robertson even find a machine that could hold 2,000 pounds at one time?" Travis asked.
Andy Zucker, a strength-training coach at Old Dominion University in Norfolk, said leg presses of more than 1,000 pounds represent "a Herculean effort, and 2,000 pounds is a whole other story."
"If he was able to lift that much weight, I take my hat off to him, but the numbers suggest that people who lift that much weight are few and far between," Zucker said. "One would have to see what type of leg press it was on and under what parameters it was done."
CBN spokeswoman Angell Vasko said Friday that Robertson was not available for comment because he was "out of pocket" for the long holiday weekend.
Vasko said she has not seen Robertson leg-press 2,000 pounds but that it's not "a huge shocker" that he could.
"Pat is so healthy," she said. "This is something he trained for over an extended period of time. He lives a very healthy, regimented life."
One of the photos Vasko released had a digital date stamp of 1994, although she said Robertson performed the leg press in 2003. Vasko said that perhaps the date was not set properly on the camera.
The CBN Web site attributes Robertson's energy in part to "his age-defying protein shake." The site offers a recipe for the shake, which contains ingredients such as soy protein isolate, whey protein isolate, flaxseed oil and apple cider vinegar. (Taken from APNews)
I saw this story last night on Anderson Cooper's 360 Slamma Jamma Dunk Show on CNN. At first I though "Oh great Pat's at it again; what did he say now". But from the looks of things Pat is a muscle head as well as a televangelist. Who knew? A man of God who can leg press 2,000 pounds??!!! Move over King David, Samson step aside because Pat "I can leg press 2,000 pounds" is in the house!!!
On Anderson's show he had some guy on who was introduced as "Mr. Natural Something Something Something". He was going to leg press 1,000 pounds 10 times. Okay, so he did it. Ten times. 1,000 pounds. On cable TV. It was impressive, though I don't think he brought the weight low enough on the machine. I think he could've gone lower. But whatever.
So Pat has some pictures of his alledged feat. I don't buy it for many reasons. He's over 70 years old trying to leg press over a thousand pounds?! Plus, in the picture above he's got his hands on his knees/lower quads, which means he's cheating. If anyone has ever done leg presses before the cardinal sin is to cheat by using your arms to help your legs push the weight. C'mon Pat!! You'd be disqualified on that alone!
Now don't get me wrong I'm not trying to rain on Pat's parade for trying to be healthy with his protein shakes and leg presses. But if you're going to make some amazing claims you better be ready to back it up. I hardly think Pat has done that. I want an independent organization to weigh the weights. I want someone to check the machine he's using (I don't know of too many leg press machines that can hold that much weight). I want his hands tied behind his back. And he has to take the weight down to a predetermined mark before bringing back up. I want ESPN to be there. Pat, don't just give us pictures and obscure, vague press releases from your people. I want cold hard facts.
Finally, I think Pat does this because he doesn't want the public to forget about him. He wants people to watch the 700 Club. He needs the exposure. I mean hmmmm it is May. It is sweeps month for TV right (at least I think it is; but does that apply for just broadcast TV)? I don't know. I just think it's a huge scam.
Saturday, May 27, 2006
Friday, May 19, 2006
Why Russ Springer Deserves His Suspension...
Major League Baseball has issued the following discipline stemming from incidents that occurred in the May 16th game between the San Francisco Giants and the Houston Astros at Houston's Minute Maid Park. Bob Watson, Vice President of On-Field Operations for Major League Baseball, made the announcement. Houston pitcher Russ Springer has been suspended for four games and fined an undisclosed amount for intentionally throwing multiple pitches at San Francisco's Barry Bonds during the top of the fifth inning. Unless appealed, Springer's suspension is scheduled to begin tonight, when the Astros are scheduled to host the Texas Rangers. If appealed, his suspension will be held in abeyance until the process is complete. In addition, Astros manager Phil Garner has been suspended for one game and fined an undisclosed amount for the intentional actions of Springer after warnings had been issued to him earlier during Bonds' at-bat. Garner is scheduled to serve his suspension on Monday, May 22nd, when Houston is scheduled to play at Washington. (MLB.com).
Please hear me out. I'm not trying to call attention to Barry Bonds at all in this blog. I'm a little shocked and frankly upset at how Russ Springer just went after a batter. It's one thing to pitch around someone, or get behind in the count and then just decide to walk him. But Springer's actions on this past Tuesday evening definitely looked like it was an intent to injure.
The first pitched ball in the at-bat to Bonds nearly hit in the high hip/buttocks area. However, due to the speed of the pitch (most likely a breaking ball) Bonds was able to get out of the way. The next pitch was low and inside nearly getting Bonds on the left foot (again he was able to get out of the way). The third pitch was again inside, this time higher near the San Francisco lettering on Bonds' uniform. The pitch was close enough to hit the knob of Bonds' bat. Pitch four. Inside. High. Bonds couldn't avoid it. He turned his shoulder and took the pitch (allegedly clocked at 92 MPH) on the upper right shoulder.
Now the good stuff. After the first pitch in the at-bat Springer was warned by the plate umpire, and also received a nice staredown from Bonds. After the fourth pitch in the at-bat Springer was ejected for throwing at Bonds.
More good stuff, and here's the stuff I can't understand. Why would and why do fans cheer when players get hurt, or something bad happens to them? This is exactly what happened to Bonds. Yes, Bonds is the source of much controversy for "unknowingly" taking steroids and being very close to tying and overtaking Babe Ruth's all-time home run record. But to cheer when he gets hit? What if he got hit in the head? What is the motivation behind such behavior? It happened again when Rasheed Wallace turned his ankle during the Pistons/Cavs playoff game. Yes, Rasheed opened his mouth and made a guarantee that the Cavs wouldn't win again on their home floor drawing the ire of Cavs fans all over the place. But does that mean that you cheer when he's injured?
So the fan says or thinks (speculation of course) I can do whatever I want. I paid my ticket and I'm allowed to boo or curse or do whatever I want to spur my team on to victory. That may be the case. But what does it say about you as a fan? Of course your able to do what you want within reason at a sporting event. However, I think that it shows a lack of class that you can't show some concern for someone who may be injured.
Now on to Russ. My question to you is what were you thinking? If you wanted to walk him (Bonds) then walk him. It was the top of the fifth inning and the score was 11-3 Giants. You can't tell me Russ that you were missing your spots. You were trying to hit him. You could've missed way outside, you could've talked it over with Mike Matheny and did an intentional walk. But the way you went about the whole at-bat was so blatant. I actually credit Bonds with showing restraint and not saying something to Springer or escalating the situation by doing something to provoke him (Springer) or his Astro teammates.
So that's all I really have to say. Springer deserves his suspension. It doesn't matter if he threw at Bonds or another batter (though the fact that it was Bonds makes the whole situation bigger).
Oh and I'm still not a witness.
Jonathan
Please hear me out. I'm not trying to call attention to Barry Bonds at all in this blog. I'm a little shocked and frankly upset at how Russ Springer just went after a batter. It's one thing to pitch around someone, or get behind in the count and then just decide to walk him. But Springer's actions on this past Tuesday evening definitely looked like it was an intent to injure.
The first pitched ball in the at-bat to Bonds nearly hit in the high hip/buttocks area. However, due to the speed of the pitch (most likely a breaking ball) Bonds was able to get out of the way. The next pitch was low and inside nearly getting Bonds on the left foot (again he was able to get out of the way). The third pitch was again inside, this time higher near the San Francisco lettering on Bonds' uniform. The pitch was close enough to hit the knob of Bonds' bat. Pitch four. Inside. High. Bonds couldn't avoid it. He turned his shoulder and took the pitch (allegedly clocked at 92 MPH) on the upper right shoulder.
Now the good stuff. After the first pitch in the at-bat Springer was warned by the plate umpire, and also received a nice staredown from Bonds. After the fourth pitch in the at-bat Springer was ejected for throwing at Bonds.
More good stuff, and here's the stuff I can't understand. Why would and why do fans cheer when players get hurt, or something bad happens to them? This is exactly what happened to Bonds. Yes, Bonds is the source of much controversy for "unknowingly" taking steroids and being very close to tying and overtaking Babe Ruth's all-time home run record. But to cheer when he gets hit? What if he got hit in the head? What is the motivation behind such behavior? It happened again when Rasheed Wallace turned his ankle during the Pistons/Cavs playoff game. Yes, Rasheed opened his mouth and made a guarantee that the Cavs wouldn't win again on their home floor drawing the ire of Cavs fans all over the place. But does that mean that you cheer when he's injured?
So the fan says or thinks (speculation of course) I can do whatever I want. I paid my ticket and I'm allowed to boo or curse or do whatever I want to spur my team on to victory. That may be the case. But what does it say about you as a fan? Of course your able to do what you want within reason at a sporting event. However, I think that it shows a lack of class that you can't show some concern for someone who may be injured.
Now on to Russ. My question to you is what were you thinking? If you wanted to walk him (Bonds) then walk him. It was the top of the fifth inning and the score was 11-3 Giants. You can't tell me Russ that you were missing your spots. You were trying to hit him. You could've missed way outside, you could've talked it over with Mike Matheny and did an intentional walk. But the way you went about the whole at-bat was so blatant. I actually credit Bonds with showing restraint and not saying something to Springer or escalating the situation by doing something to provoke him (Springer) or his Astro teammates.
So that's all I really have to say. Springer deserves his suspension. It doesn't matter if he threw at Bonds or another batter (though the fact that it was Bonds makes the whole situation bigger).
Oh and I'm still not a witness.
Jonathan
Sunday, May 14, 2006
I Love Mice...
So our property has been breached. Call the NSA, CIA, SWAT teams, Jackie Chan, Charles Bronson (for you old schoolers)...
Apparently the house has been infiltrated by the Meeces. No, not mice. Meeces. For months I've heard the pitter-patter of small rodent feet, but I could never find the point of entry or their dens (or whatever you call them). After some closer inspection I found that they were using the vast duct work in our house to plot their underhanded schemes. BUT as all rodent criminals do they leave a trail that can get them caught.
Last Saturday I was up to my usual chores and one of them involves getting our pool and spa water checked. Upon reaching our basement to get the spa water sample I noticed a small furry creature scurrying around on the floor. With my attention now turned towards the floor I also noticed two other meeces, both of which had passed on into meece eternity.
I toyed with the living meece for a while, chasing it back and forth across the floor. I tried to vacuum it up with the wet/dry vac but the thought of it being sucked into household cleaning oblivion was a little too harsh to fathom. So I left the basement and let the sucker live for a little bit longer...
Fast forward to this past Thursday evening. After dinner with the 'rents my mom noticed that little rodent scampering around the kitchen. I quickly cornered the little varmint between the water cooler and the heating vents that line our fireplace. Finally!! The meece's time had come. I was about to smoteth thee with the right, and left hand as well as left and right elbow strikes followed by an arm bar and then finish things off with a rear naked choke hold. Ummm yeah...the meece had other ideas...
With my left leg blocking a possible escape route near the water cooler, I tried to grab the little Mickey. Again more ideas by the meece...It jumped over my leg and found some temporary shelter underneath our dishwasher. Curses...
But take heart (I'm sure that you have) I had a fullproof plan to end this rodent tyranny. I decided to let some traps do the talking (umm catching rather). The trap of choice is the one with the really sticky substance with some seeds on top that tricks the meeces into walking right on the stickum while trying to get a midnight snack.
Sure enough Friday morning we got our boy (or girl, or it, or whatever). Still alive, but very stuck was the meece. It struggled for freedom but to no avail. My orders from the 'rents were to get rid of the captured varmint. But in an odd way. "Don't throw it away, wait until it dies and then get rid of it." What the dang is the difference? Who knows...
So I took the meece with the trap put it in a plastic garbage bag, tied it up and put it outside. Eventually it would die. I haven't gotten it and thrown it away yet. It's Sunday. 7:18pm. Think the meece is still alive? Hmmm. My dad asked me today after church if I was using this meece as an example for all future meeces who try and enter our home. No not really, but actually that's not a bad idea... Is PETA gonna come after me? Eh...Who cares...
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Tater Tot Thieves
Before I begin I'd just like to say that due to the subject matter of this blog I have become quite hungry.
A little over a month ago I was blessed enough to be in the great state of Illinois and in the great city of Chicago. I spent one night at a friend's apartment and the following morning there was a consensus to make breakfast. But this wouldn't be just any breakfast, oh no! This was going to be a breakfast of mass proportions.
It had already been a wonderful start to my small vacation and to cook breakfast with friends would be even better. However, a huge crime would be committed in the kitchen.
As the scrambled eggs umm scrambled and the turkey and pork sausage sizzled (oh the sights and sounds of food; I love it), some little greedy fingers decided they would hold some crispy brown tater tots hostage. When the fingers and the owners of those fingers were called out on their theft, the fingers quickly did away with the evidence. Poor tots, they didn't even know it was coming. Those small, warm, crispy pieces of potato goodness just gone (I know it's a fragmentdeal with it). Just gone down the digestive tracts of those thieves...oh the humanity. L.O. remind me to spank your fingers when I see you next. S.L.Y. did you take some too? I can't recall...
If those greedy little hungry fingers and mouths left the tater tots alone we most likely wouldn't have had to empty the rest of the bag to cook their cousins, uncles, brothers and sisters. Oh, the many tears I've shed since that morning
Ahhhnow the memories are flooding back to me!! Mornings in SAGA. Eating those beautifully little nuggets. I used to take my extras and dip half of them in ketchup and the other half in mustard and act as if the Lakers were playing the Bulls. Ummm okay maybe I didn't do that, but it would've been funny.
Why this fixation with tater tots? Because I read this story yesterday.
"Teen Shot in Fight Over Tater Tots
A teenager was shot Monday afternoon after he was arguing over tater tots with another teen, San Antonio Police said.
The shooting happened close to 5 p.m. at the Spring Hill Apartments off Raybon on the northeast side.
Neighbors told police the uncle of one of the boys told the teens to stop fighting. They were ready to stop, but investigators said a 20-year-old man would not let them.
"Another person out here in this apartment complex, I think wanted to see the young boys continue fighting," Sgt. Rudy Cran with SAPD said.
The man then walked into a nearby apartment complex, grabbed a gun and started shooting, authorities said. He fired several shots into the living room where the boys were watching television, police said.
"One of those rounds hit the young man in the back," Cran said.
The boy was rushed to University Hospital, officials said. His condition was unavailable Monday night.
The suspect remained on the loose Monday. Police were looking for him."
Here's my first set of questions. Who shoots someone because of a fight relating to tater tots? I mean where the two kids fighting over the taste difference between Ore-Ida and organic tater tots (by the way does anyone know if organic tater tots exist)? Did someone want extra crispy tots as opposed to softer tots?
Here's my second set of questions. What did the shooter have to gain from the fight? Is he a fight promoter and the kids who were fighting were part of his title bout? Was he siding with the one kid he didn't shoot over the kid he did shoot? Is there some kind of tater tot shortage in San Antonio and so he felt if he shot one of the kids he might get more for himself? Hmmm. Perhaps there is something wrong with Texas in general? I think the oil down there has gone to everyone's head
A little over a month ago I was blessed enough to be in the great state of Illinois and in the great city of Chicago. I spent one night at a friend's apartment and the following morning there was a consensus to make breakfast. But this wouldn't be just any breakfast, oh no! This was going to be a breakfast of mass proportions.
It had already been a wonderful start to my small vacation and to cook breakfast with friends would be even better. However, a huge crime would be committed in the kitchen.
As the scrambled eggs umm scrambled and the turkey and pork sausage sizzled (oh the sights and sounds of food; I love it), some little greedy fingers decided they would hold some crispy brown tater tots hostage. When the fingers and the owners of those fingers were called out on their theft, the fingers quickly did away with the evidence. Poor tots, they didn't even know it was coming. Those small, warm, crispy pieces of potato goodness just gone (I know it's a fragmentdeal with it). Just gone down the digestive tracts of those thieves...oh the humanity. L.O. remind me to spank your fingers when I see you next. S.L.Y. did you take some too? I can't recall...
If those greedy little hungry fingers and mouths left the tater tots alone we most likely wouldn't have had to empty the rest of the bag to cook their cousins, uncles, brothers and sisters. Oh, the many tears I've shed since that morning
Ahhhnow the memories are flooding back to me!! Mornings in SAGA. Eating those beautifully little nuggets. I used to take my extras and dip half of them in ketchup and the other half in mustard and act as if the Lakers were playing the Bulls. Ummm okay maybe I didn't do that, but it would've been funny.
Why this fixation with tater tots? Because I read this story yesterday.
"Teen Shot in Fight Over Tater Tots
A teenager was shot Monday afternoon after he was arguing over tater tots with another teen, San Antonio Police said.
The shooting happened close to 5 p.m. at the Spring Hill Apartments off Raybon on the northeast side.
Neighbors told police the uncle of one of the boys told the teens to stop fighting. They were ready to stop, but investigators said a 20-year-old man would not let them.
"Another person out here in this apartment complex, I think wanted to see the young boys continue fighting," Sgt. Rudy Cran with SAPD said.
The man then walked into a nearby apartment complex, grabbed a gun and started shooting, authorities said. He fired several shots into the living room where the boys were watching television, police said.
"One of those rounds hit the young man in the back," Cran said.
The boy was rushed to University Hospital, officials said. His condition was unavailable Monday night.
The suspect remained on the loose Monday. Police were looking for him."
Here's my first set of questions. Who shoots someone because of a fight relating to tater tots? I mean where the two kids fighting over the taste difference between Ore-Ida and organic tater tots (by the way does anyone know if organic tater tots exist)? Did someone want extra crispy tots as opposed to softer tots?
Here's my second set of questions. What did the shooter have to gain from the fight? Is he a fight promoter and the kids who were fighting were part of his title bout? Was he siding with the one kid he didn't shoot over the kid he did shoot? Is there some kind of tater tot shortage in San Antonio and so he felt if he shot one of the kids he might get more for himself? Hmmm. Perhaps there is something wrong with Texas in general? I think the oil down there has gone to everyone's head
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Bubbles Used To Be My Stripper Name...
"RIVERSIDE, Calif. - Heather Veitch is not your typical evangelical Christian.
The 31-year-old married mother of two visits one strip club a month, paying for lap dances so she can talk to the strippers about God.
The Web site for the ministry she formed with two other women JC's Girls Girls Girls features glamour shots of the three that were taken by a porn film director.
The three attend porn conventions, where they pass out Bibles wrapped in T-shirts that read Holy Hottie.
Veitch's approach is based on experience: In the 1990s, she worked as a stripper and, she says, acted in a handful of soft porn movies. She plays up her sex appeal because adult industry workers relate to that, she said.
"I understand the culture of these girls. They respect that," said Veitch, whose work has received national and international media coverage.
In a posting on the ministry's Web site, Veitch said she was a successful Las Vegas stripper but inwardly feared that her lifestyle was a ticket to hell.
She began attending church, became a Christian, went to beauty school and got married. A year ago, she began reaching out to sex industry workers.
She has an ally in Matt Brown, her pastor at Sandals Church of Riverside. The 1,700-member Southern Baptist congregation is contributing $50,000 to her ministry this year.
"What good would it do to send the 'church lady' to an erotica convention?" Brown said. "She's going to get laughed out of the building."
Veitch said she doesn't keep track of how many strippers they successfully reach. Ultimately, she and Brown hope to offer alternatives, such as college scholarships, to women in the sex industry. But Veitch doesn't think the women should have to quit their jobs before entering a church.
"What we say to that is, 'Do we ask gluttons to stop eating too much before they come to church?' " Veitch said. "Sin is sin."
Her ministry partners include a part-time first grade teacher and a stay-at-home mother.
On the 'Net: http://jcsgirls.com/ "
I guess my first reaction to this was one of shock, which quickly turned to amusement. But not amusement in the sense that I find this woman's new found calling laughable but rather, wow, this is really taking place and why shouldn't it?! When I was in college some of my friends and I had a running joke that we would start a clubbing ministry for those clubgoers in the city of Chicago. (The joke was born due to the fact that the college we attended had a no dancing policy. Yeah, I know, I know...but at least they changed it now...sort of.) So maybe my amusement was also because of my recollection of that joke. But THEN in talking to another friend the other day, she said that at her college they actually HAD a clubbing ministry! I just find it absolutely amazing how the Lord can put us in situations where we can minister for him! Which leads me to my next thoughts...
This woman was a stripper who came to know the Lord and now she's trying to spread the gospel to others in the adult entertainment industry. It shouldn't be a big deal, but I bet there are some Christians who might think what she's doing isn't the greatest idea. But why isn't it? Jesus was a friend to the tax collectors and the prostitutes; they needed to hear his message too. If anyone knows the sub-culture of the adult entertainment industry it would be her. And like her pastor said to send a "church woman" or someone who doesn't know anything about that industry to evangelize maybe not be the best course of action.
And though I wouldn't be the right fit to minister to adult entertainers, I could very much minister to the guys that I play with. At times I have. I invited some of the guys I play with to come to my baptism and also invited them to our church's Christmas concert. I pray for them. There have been limited times when I've been able to share my faith, but I guess the best way to show Christ sometimes is by how we act. So maybe in my actions I can be a witness as well. As exciting as the opportunity is, I'm still a bit daunted. It's not easy knowing how, or the "right" way to witness (if there is such a thing). But I'm still looking for the Lord to use me.
In the end I am in awe of how God uses us. We come from all different backgrounds, have different passions and desires, and live in different worlds. Yet he still knows where he wants us to be; where he feels that we will be the most effective for him. I think that's what I struggle with the most right now. I don't see his plan at all. I want to, I really do, and I pray about it daily but sometimes this answers don't come right away. I mean, I like being here and I'm content with my situation sometimes (well maybe a little less then sometimes) but it's far from where I want to be...But stories like these strengthen my faith because ultimately the story is saying that God can use his followers however he wants, in whatever situation for the glory of his kingdom.
The 31-year-old married mother of two visits one strip club a month, paying for lap dances so she can talk to the strippers about God.
The Web site for the ministry she formed with two other women JC's Girls Girls Girls features glamour shots of the three that were taken by a porn film director.
The three attend porn conventions, where they pass out Bibles wrapped in T-shirts that read Holy Hottie.
Veitch's approach is based on experience: In the 1990s, she worked as a stripper and, she says, acted in a handful of soft porn movies. She plays up her sex appeal because adult industry workers relate to that, she said.
"I understand the culture of these girls. They respect that," said Veitch, whose work has received national and international media coverage.
In a posting on the ministry's Web site, Veitch said she was a successful Las Vegas stripper but inwardly feared that her lifestyle was a ticket to hell.
She began attending church, became a Christian, went to beauty school and got married. A year ago, she began reaching out to sex industry workers.
She has an ally in Matt Brown, her pastor at Sandals Church of Riverside. The 1,700-member Southern Baptist congregation is contributing $50,000 to her ministry this year.
"What good would it do to send the 'church lady' to an erotica convention?" Brown said. "She's going to get laughed out of the building."
Veitch said she doesn't keep track of how many strippers they successfully reach. Ultimately, she and Brown hope to offer alternatives, such as college scholarships, to women in the sex industry. But Veitch doesn't think the women should have to quit their jobs before entering a church.
"What we say to that is, 'Do we ask gluttons to stop eating too much before they come to church?' " Veitch said. "Sin is sin."
Her ministry partners include a part-time first grade teacher and a stay-at-home mother.
On the 'Net: http://jcsgirls.com/ "
I guess my first reaction to this was one of shock, which quickly turned to amusement. But not amusement in the sense that I find this woman's new found calling laughable but rather, wow, this is really taking place and why shouldn't it?! When I was in college some of my friends and I had a running joke that we would start a clubbing ministry for those clubgoers in the city of Chicago. (The joke was born due to the fact that the college we attended had a no dancing policy. Yeah, I know, I know...but at least they changed it now...sort of.) So maybe my amusement was also because of my recollection of that joke. But THEN in talking to another friend the other day, she said that at her college they actually HAD a clubbing ministry! I just find it absolutely amazing how the Lord can put us in situations where we can minister for him! Which leads me to my next thoughts...
This woman was a stripper who came to know the Lord and now she's trying to spread the gospel to others in the adult entertainment industry. It shouldn't be a big deal, but I bet there are some Christians who might think what she's doing isn't the greatest idea. But why isn't it? Jesus was a friend to the tax collectors and the prostitutes; they needed to hear his message too. If anyone knows the sub-culture of the adult entertainment industry it would be her. And like her pastor said to send a "church woman" or someone who doesn't know anything about that industry to evangelize maybe not be the best course of action.
And though I wouldn't be the right fit to minister to adult entertainers, I could very much minister to the guys that I play with. At times I have. I invited some of the guys I play with to come to my baptism and also invited them to our church's Christmas concert. I pray for them. There have been limited times when I've been able to share my faith, but I guess the best way to show Christ sometimes is by how we act. So maybe in my actions I can be a witness as well. As exciting as the opportunity is, I'm still a bit daunted. It's not easy knowing how, or the "right" way to witness (if there is such a thing). But I'm still looking for the Lord to use me.
In the end I am in awe of how God uses us. We come from all different backgrounds, have different passions and desires, and live in different worlds. Yet he still knows where he wants us to be; where he feels that we will be the most effective for him. I think that's what I struggle with the most right now. I don't see his plan at all. I want to, I really do, and I pray about it daily but sometimes this answers don't come right away. I mean, I like being here and I'm content with my situation sometimes (well maybe a little less then sometimes) but it's far from where I want to be...But stories like these strengthen my faith because ultimately the story is saying that God can use his followers however he wants, in whatever situation for the glory of his kingdom.
Tuesday, October 7, 2003
October 7, 2003 The Jonathan Clause Issue #9
Good morning ladies and gentlemen,
I don’t normally listen to NPR (National Public Radio), but last Thursday, I was able to listen an interview with Mariane Pearl in my brother and sister-in-law’s kitchen. Ms. Pearl was being interviewed about her book entitled, “A Mighty Heart: The Brave Life and Death of My Husband, Danny Pearl”. Daniel Pearl was a reporter for The Wall Street Journal before being kidnapped and killed in Pakistan on January 23, 2002.
As I listened to the interview, I couldn’t help but notice how composed and solid Ms. Pearl was. She seemed to answer each question with a serious, straightforward, and compelling approach, which gave her a great deal of on-air credibility. I was left quite amazed by how she handled herself, under the circumstances from which she has come from. Later that afternoon, I came to a radio station while driving that was speaking of Ms. Pearl in contrast to some of the contestants on ABC’s The Bachelor. The two female broadcasters were also amazed at Ms. Pearl’s character and her strength and rebuked the behavior and philosophies of the contestants on The Bachelor. They (the broadcasters) asked how they could become more like Ms. Pearl, in the way that she handled and conducted herself.
This past Monday, The New York Times ran an article written by Julie Salamon in their Arts section devoted to Ms. Pearl. In her attempt to tell her husband’s life and death, she didn’t want to sentimentalize her situation, her book or her husband’s story. Ms. Pearl states, “Even before Danny died people were trying to reach me every which way, and they were already doing the weeping widow thing…My sole purpose in getting to the media was to try and reach Danny’s captors in Pakistan. People were trying to coach me to look even more pregnant and weepy. It was bizarre.” Ms. Pearl in no way wanted to simplify or dumb down the events that she has lived through during and after her husband’s kidnap.
Unfortunately, the media has a way of doing exactly that. At certain times the use of sound bites and video clips fails to adequately capture the reality of a trying situation. For example, I find it appalling that Pfc. Jessica Lynch gained so much attention from the media after her rescue from an Iraqi hospital. Yes, her story is amazing, but to try and pump her up to celebrity status (which is what some media outlets wanted to do) is to take advantage of her situation for marketing purposes and the coveted exclusive interview or scoop. Ms. Lynch was also not the only member of our country’s armed forces that was rescued; and what about the families of those who lost their lives during battle? Show me a “ripped from the headlines” episode of a television drama and I’ll show you a group of writers and producers who had the creative and imaginative sections of their brains sucked out by a Bissell vacuum cleaner. We are bombarded with news at a dizzy pace through instant Internet access, and twenty-four hour newscasts. We don’t need the same stories retold through the fictional eyes of a television series. We should stand up against the sugarcoating; Mickey-Mouse version of news stories that we see every night on T.V.
It seems that Ms. Pearl is trying to do this by delicately avoiding all that could be detrimental to her and her husband’s story, while still partaking in, “the media waltz” (Ms. Pearl’s take on her many appearances). I applaud her for this effort. There are more compelling and meaningful stories in the world than whether or not J.Lo and Ben are getting married – find some!!
Jonathan
I don’t normally listen to NPR (National Public Radio), but last Thursday, I was able to listen an interview with Mariane Pearl in my brother and sister-in-law’s kitchen. Ms. Pearl was being interviewed about her book entitled, “A Mighty Heart: The Brave Life and Death of My Husband, Danny Pearl”. Daniel Pearl was a reporter for The Wall Street Journal before being kidnapped and killed in Pakistan on January 23, 2002.
As I listened to the interview, I couldn’t help but notice how composed and solid Ms. Pearl was. She seemed to answer each question with a serious, straightforward, and compelling approach, which gave her a great deal of on-air credibility. I was left quite amazed by how she handled herself, under the circumstances from which she has come from. Later that afternoon, I came to a radio station while driving that was speaking of Ms. Pearl in contrast to some of the contestants on ABC’s The Bachelor. The two female broadcasters were also amazed at Ms. Pearl’s character and her strength and rebuked the behavior and philosophies of the contestants on The Bachelor. They (the broadcasters) asked how they could become more like Ms. Pearl, in the way that she handled and conducted herself.
This past Monday, The New York Times ran an article written by Julie Salamon in their Arts section devoted to Ms. Pearl. In her attempt to tell her husband’s life and death, she didn’t want to sentimentalize her situation, her book or her husband’s story. Ms. Pearl states, “Even before Danny died people were trying to reach me every which way, and they were already doing the weeping widow thing…My sole purpose in getting to the media was to try and reach Danny’s captors in Pakistan. People were trying to coach me to look even more pregnant and weepy. It was bizarre.” Ms. Pearl in no way wanted to simplify or dumb down the events that she has lived through during and after her husband’s kidnap.
Unfortunately, the media has a way of doing exactly that. At certain times the use of sound bites and video clips fails to adequately capture the reality of a trying situation. For example, I find it appalling that Pfc. Jessica Lynch gained so much attention from the media after her rescue from an Iraqi hospital. Yes, her story is amazing, but to try and pump her up to celebrity status (which is what some media outlets wanted to do) is to take advantage of her situation for marketing purposes and the coveted exclusive interview or scoop. Ms. Lynch was also not the only member of our country’s armed forces that was rescued; and what about the families of those who lost their lives during battle? Show me a “ripped from the headlines” episode of a television drama and I’ll show you a group of writers and producers who had the creative and imaginative sections of their brains sucked out by a Bissell vacuum cleaner. We are bombarded with news at a dizzy pace through instant Internet access, and twenty-four hour newscasts. We don’t need the same stories retold through the fictional eyes of a television series. We should stand up against the sugarcoating; Mickey-Mouse version of news stories that we see every night on T.V.
It seems that Ms. Pearl is trying to do this by delicately avoiding all that could be detrimental to her and her husband’s story, while still partaking in, “the media waltz” (Ms. Pearl’s take on her many appearances). I applaud her for this effort. There are more compelling and meaningful stories in the world than whether or not J.Lo and Ben are getting married – find some!!
Jonathan
Thursday, October 2, 2003
October 2, 2003 The Jonathan Clause Issue #8
Good morning ladies and gentlemen,
What a great time for a special edition of the Jonathan Clause! I couldn’t have timed it better myself. As you are well aware, the sweltering heat of summer has given way to the early morning frosts of autumn. Major League Baseball is going through similar changes with the marathon of a 162 game season bowing to the pageantry of post-season play. Why am I worried about the playoffs? Well normally I wouldn’t be (the Indians won’t be there anytime soon, and my allegiances really do belong to the NHL playoffs), but I have two new teams to root for. I’m glad the Chicago Cubs and Boston Red Sox have made it to the post-season dance. Over my four years in the Chicagoland area for college, I began to admire the Cubs from afar. Now that they have an outstanding pitching staff and sluggers like Sammy and Moises, I’m expecting big things. How did I become a Red Sox fan? Glad you asked, in fact it’s the reason why this special edition is being written.
On September 15th, Joe Castiglione one of the Red Sox broadcasters for WEEI radio in Boston called our home. Mr. Castiglione was a member of Cleveland’s media with WKYC TV as well as being a radio broadcaster for the Indians. It was during this time that Mr. Castiglione began a friendship with my father that has lasted for over twenty years. He wanted to let my father know the team was coming into town and that hopefully they could get together for lunch or dinner. He inquired about what I had been doing since graduation and I told him of my desire to write and find a career in journalism. He then invited me to watch the Indians game from the broadcast booth.
I called him back on Thursday (September 18th) to let Mr. Castiglione know that I wanted to partake is this great experience. We made plans to meet down at Jacob’s Field (where the Indians under perform), and I was to pick up a media credential to gain access to the clubhouse, broadcast booth and dugout.
Friday finally came, but I didn’t reach the stadium without incident. A banking mess up (my own personal miscalculation) and a traffic accident (overturned semi-truck) pushed my arrival time with Mr. Castiglione back about a half and hour. Once I reached the media gate at the stadium some security personnel asked me for a form of identification (I tried my NRA card, but they were looking for my driver’s license). I asked for directions to the field and was directed to go down a service ramp that leads to the bowels of the massive structure. A long corridor stretches around the stadium that usually isn’t seen by the paying public (unless you have one of those fancy dugout suites). I made my way through the corridor being passed by modified golf carts and motorized dollies carrying anything from hamburger buns to workers trying to get from one end of the stadium to another. I was quite familiar with this part of the stadium. About twice a year, my father would speak for the Indians chapel and the chapel for the opposing team. We usually came through the player’s parking lot, but due to security concerns, things have drastically changed. This was also the first time I had been to the ballpark on my own.
I reached the Red Sox clubhouse and showed the security guard there my media credential. I told him that I was meeting with Joe Castiglione and he directed me where to go. I felt like I was meeting some important dignitary or on some special top-secret mission. Now I was in very familiar territory. I bypassed the clubhouse, manager’s office, and laundry room and went down two flights of stairs that would lead me to the opposing team’s dugout. I passed through another hallway that housed some batting cages and up a few stairs to the dugout. Here’s where things got interesting.
It had just dawned on me that it had been quite a while since I had seen Mr. Castiglione. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I saw him and now on top of being late I’d probably walk right past the person who had enabled me to get down here in the first place! As I reached the dugout, I passed a couple players, and media personnel who were just sitting and talking. In the middle of the dugout sat Mr. Castiglione (I’m sure I had a quizzical look on my face). Whew! It worked out perfectly. I sat next to him, said hello, shook his hand and we began a little conversation. Normally, one of the teams would be on the field taking batting practice, doing stretching and throwing long toss. But the remnants of Hurricane Isabel had brought about sixteen hours of rain to the Cleveland area, which thwarted any idea of on field activities until the game. The sky was quite dark for around 4:45 pm in the afternoon. Mr. Castiglione had told me during our phone conversation on Thursday that he would be conducting the general manager’s interview (with Theo Epstein) around this time (4:30 or 4:45).
The show is scheduled to take place every game either by phone or with Theo showing up in person. Now most of you may not know this but Theo Epstein is the youngest general manager in the history of Major League Baseball. Not only is he the youngest general manager, he’s probably one of the smartest; he graduated from Yale with a degree in American studies and received his law degree from the University of San Diego. For some reason I thought that, the interview would be something elaborate. In reality, it’s a relaxed conversation that goes on between two people. Mr. Castiglione asked Theo for some clarification on some topics that he want to delve into during the interview. I tried to be as businesslike as possible meeting writers and broadcasters from Boston’s media and some of the other New England media that cover the Red Sox. It was hard at times not to be a deer in the headlights, just looking out at the field and being amazed that I was in the position that I was in. One of the beat writers that I met wrote for a newspaper out of Providence, Rhode Island (if my memory serves correctly). His undergraduate degree was in political science, which gave me some hope. I also had the opportunity to meet Bob Hohler, who is one of the writers for the Boston Globe. He was a writer on White House affairs for some time before covering the Red Sox. He told me that I should get in contact with the sports editor for the Globe, Don Skwar (which I did do).
By this time, Mr. Castiglione and I were in the booth. I had the opportunity of meeting Mr. Castiglione’s broadcast partner, Jerry Trupiano, Dick (not sure, if he was the producer, or just the radio control person) and Dick’s granddaughter Kelly (It could end in i). She attends Mount Union as a freshman cross-country athlete. The broadcast booths in Jacob’s field are two-tiered. They’re what?! The lower level (closest to the field) is meant for the broadcasters, with an in house television monitor (for replays), and huge windows that open and close (that’s what windows do) during inclement weather. Each game brings loads and loads of stats, which are given to each broadcaster in the form of game notes. Before the game, Mr. Castiglione took each packet (he called them reams of paper; they WERE a lot) and started to highlight different stats, player profiles, and other tidbits that he could use during the game. This information was then Scotch taped to the aforementioned window for quick reference.
Dinner was next on the itinerary. Jacob’s field has a mini cafeteria (Wheaton students it DOES NOT rival the monster that is…SAGA), but the food was good nonetheless. Mr. Castiglione again held conversation about siblings, children, and other things. It was about ten minutes to game time before we went back into the booth. OH! I forgot the second tier of the booth! Is where the producer/control person sat, along with Kelly (or i) and I. The view from the broadcast booth is something to behold. Seats that wore only green paint now have collected a warm human body for three hours (well in the Indians case about 20,000 seats got the night off). The field that is so meticulously taken care of by the grounds crew was getting ready to be torn, spit upon, and kicked by multi-millionaires in tights wearing oversized leather gloves. Strange game baseball…
I can already see it now. You’ve been sitting at the computer for three hours reading this and your eyes have glazed over. I’m quite sorry, but that’s how real events are recounted. I’ll get to the game next week (yes, in another special edition). Don’t fret, the J.C. is just like Law & Order, you have to wait a week to see the new episodes (unless you have cable and view the older episodes in syndication). Until next week!!
Jonathan
What a great time for a special edition of the Jonathan Clause! I couldn’t have timed it better myself. As you are well aware, the sweltering heat of summer has given way to the early morning frosts of autumn. Major League Baseball is going through similar changes with the marathon of a 162 game season bowing to the pageantry of post-season play. Why am I worried about the playoffs? Well normally I wouldn’t be (the Indians won’t be there anytime soon, and my allegiances really do belong to the NHL playoffs), but I have two new teams to root for. I’m glad the Chicago Cubs and Boston Red Sox have made it to the post-season dance. Over my four years in the Chicagoland area for college, I began to admire the Cubs from afar. Now that they have an outstanding pitching staff and sluggers like Sammy and Moises, I’m expecting big things. How did I become a Red Sox fan? Glad you asked, in fact it’s the reason why this special edition is being written.
On September 15th, Joe Castiglione one of the Red Sox broadcasters for WEEI radio in Boston called our home. Mr. Castiglione was a member of Cleveland’s media with WKYC TV as well as being a radio broadcaster for the Indians. It was during this time that Mr. Castiglione began a friendship with my father that has lasted for over twenty years. He wanted to let my father know the team was coming into town and that hopefully they could get together for lunch or dinner. He inquired about what I had been doing since graduation and I told him of my desire to write and find a career in journalism. He then invited me to watch the Indians game from the broadcast booth.
I called him back on Thursday (September 18th) to let Mr. Castiglione know that I wanted to partake is this great experience. We made plans to meet down at Jacob’s Field (where the Indians under perform), and I was to pick up a media credential to gain access to the clubhouse, broadcast booth and dugout.
Friday finally came, but I didn’t reach the stadium without incident. A banking mess up (my own personal miscalculation) and a traffic accident (overturned semi-truck) pushed my arrival time with Mr. Castiglione back about a half and hour. Once I reached the media gate at the stadium some security personnel asked me for a form of identification (I tried my NRA card, but they were looking for my driver’s license). I asked for directions to the field and was directed to go down a service ramp that leads to the bowels of the massive structure. A long corridor stretches around the stadium that usually isn’t seen by the paying public (unless you have one of those fancy dugout suites). I made my way through the corridor being passed by modified golf carts and motorized dollies carrying anything from hamburger buns to workers trying to get from one end of the stadium to another. I was quite familiar with this part of the stadium. About twice a year, my father would speak for the Indians chapel and the chapel for the opposing team. We usually came through the player’s parking lot, but due to security concerns, things have drastically changed. This was also the first time I had been to the ballpark on my own.
I reached the Red Sox clubhouse and showed the security guard there my media credential. I told him that I was meeting with Joe Castiglione and he directed me where to go. I felt like I was meeting some important dignitary or on some special top-secret mission. Now I was in very familiar territory. I bypassed the clubhouse, manager’s office, and laundry room and went down two flights of stairs that would lead me to the opposing team’s dugout. I passed through another hallway that housed some batting cages and up a few stairs to the dugout. Here’s where things got interesting.
It had just dawned on me that it had been quite a while since I had seen Mr. Castiglione. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I saw him and now on top of being late I’d probably walk right past the person who had enabled me to get down here in the first place! As I reached the dugout, I passed a couple players, and media personnel who were just sitting and talking. In the middle of the dugout sat Mr. Castiglione (I’m sure I had a quizzical look on my face). Whew! It worked out perfectly. I sat next to him, said hello, shook his hand and we began a little conversation. Normally, one of the teams would be on the field taking batting practice, doing stretching and throwing long toss. But the remnants of Hurricane Isabel had brought about sixteen hours of rain to the Cleveland area, which thwarted any idea of on field activities until the game. The sky was quite dark for around 4:45 pm in the afternoon. Mr. Castiglione had told me during our phone conversation on Thursday that he would be conducting the general manager’s interview (with Theo Epstein) around this time (4:30 or 4:45).
The show is scheduled to take place every game either by phone or with Theo showing up in person. Now most of you may not know this but Theo Epstein is the youngest general manager in the history of Major League Baseball. Not only is he the youngest general manager, he’s probably one of the smartest; he graduated from Yale with a degree in American studies and received his law degree from the University of San Diego. For some reason I thought that, the interview would be something elaborate. In reality, it’s a relaxed conversation that goes on between two people. Mr. Castiglione asked Theo for some clarification on some topics that he want to delve into during the interview. I tried to be as businesslike as possible meeting writers and broadcasters from Boston’s media and some of the other New England media that cover the Red Sox. It was hard at times not to be a deer in the headlights, just looking out at the field and being amazed that I was in the position that I was in. One of the beat writers that I met wrote for a newspaper out of Providence, Rhode Island (if my memory serves correctly). His undergraduate degree was in political science, which gave me some hope. I also had the opportunity to meet Bob Hohler, who is one of the writers for the Boston Globe. He was a writer on White House affairs for some time before covering the Red Sox. He told me that I should get in contact with the sports editor for the Globe, Don Skwar (which I did do).
By this time, Mr. Castiglione and I were in the booth. I had the opportunity of meeting Mr. Castiglione’s broadcast partner, Jerry Trupiano, Dick (not sure, if he was the producer, or just the radio control person) and Dick’s granddaughter Kelly (It could end in i). She attends Mount Union as a freshman cross-country athlete. The broadcast booths in Jacob’s field are two-tiered. They’re what?! The lower level (closest to the field) is meant for the broadcasters, with an in house television monitor (for replays), and huge windows that open and close (that’s what windows do) during inclement weather. Each game brings loads and loads of stats, which are given to each broadcaster in the form of game notes. Before the game, Mr. Castiglione took each packet (he called them reams of paper; they WERE a lot) and started to highlight different stats, player profiles, and other tidbits that he could use during the game. This information was then Scotch taped to the aforementioned window for quick reference.
Dinner was next on the itinerary. Jacob’s field has a mini cafeteria (Wheaton students it DOES NOT rival the monster that is…SAGA), but the food was good nonetheless. Mr. Castiglione again held conversation about siblings, children, and other things. It was about ten minutes to game time before we went back into the booth. OH! I forgot the second tier of the booth! Is where the producer/control person sat, along with Kelly (or i) and I. The view from the broadcast booth is something to behold. Seats that wore only green paint now have collected a warm human body for three hours (well in the Indians case about 20,000 seats got the night off). The field that is so meticulously taken care of by the grounds crew was getting ready to be torn, spit upon, and kicked by multi-millionaires in tights wearing oversized leather gloves. Strange game baseball…
I can already see it now. You’ve been sitting at the computer for three hours reading this and your eyes have glazed over. I’m quite sorry, but that’s how real events are recounted. I’ll get to the game next week (yes, in another special edition). Don’t fret, the J.C. is just like Law & Order, you have to wait a week to see the new episodes (unless you have cable and view the older episodes in syndication). Until next week!!
Jonathan
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