Parent of the South

As a child of the South: born in Georgia and resident of South Caorlina for the last 30+ years, and now a parent in the South, I’ve determined Five values all Southern Parents must instill into their children:

1. Manners, Manners, Manners
   Above all else, and before all else, you must be polite and show proper respect to all people. This includes proper use (meaning everyone, young and old) of “Ma’am” and “Sir” and continual use of “May I” (even if it’s already yours) and “Thank You” even if you were wronged.

2. Love of college football
   You must find a team and make them your own. You must love them through thick and thin and you must hate their rivals (I have some ideas of teams you can cheer for, if you need some).

   And most importantly, you must not celebrate special events on fall Saturday’s – especially weddings. No daughter of the South shall ever schedule a wedding between Labor Day and Thanksgiving.

3. Exposure to Beach Music
   You must learn to shag and to make sure your children do as well. And shagging can only be done to Beach Music. While most people are familiar with the Drifters, the Temptations, and the Four Tops, you must also be conversant with groups like Chairman of the Board, the Catalinas, the Embers, and the Tymes.

   If not, how else do you propose to have a Southern wedding?

4. Wardrobe of seersucker and flip flops
   To not only be Southern, but to also look Southern, your children must have a collection of seersucker suits/dresses and flip flops. Both of these materials breathe the best, which is a necessity in the hot and dirty south.

   There is some leeway here for girls as a good sandal can take the place of flip flops. Should typically be white, or other light color, and be adorned with flowers or fun insects.

   However, please note there are some exceptions to this rule. For guys, no sandals. None. For girls, the following brands are off limits to be considered Southern: Tevas, Birchenstocks, and Crocs – even they make flip flops.

   This should go without saying, but socks with either seersucker or flip flops is explicitly outlawed. In general, socks in the South are optional – even for work.

5. A few great expressions
   What makes Paula Dean so lovable, besides the butter, are the expressions, and every Southerner must have a few in their staple. They do not need to make sense, but they need to be understood – know what I’m saying? Southern expressions are generally silly, confusing, and grammatically incorrect, when read outside of a Southern conversation – kind of like athletes’ tweets outside of a sporting event. But you must have them.

   Generally, 5-10 will get you through most every situation in life – and you’ll never be at a loss for words.

As you try to raise Southern children, please note, Southern reality tv is not your barometer. You may not use any of the sayings, dress, or tricks shown on Duck Dynasty, Honey Boo Boo, Swamp Loggers, or any other “Southern” reality show to increase your Southern standing. It must be legit and from you, the parent, not some terd on tv.

So – how are you parents of the South doing in raising our next great Southern generation? Any other necessities I missed? Am I wrong on any?

Even if I were, would your Southern hospitality and manners be allowed to tell me?

iPhone5 or a Second Marriage?

In an effort to stay on top of the mobile phone market, Apple recently released iPhone5, its newest, fastest, and slimmest model yet.  And as the techies continued to spout off feature after feature, it made me chuckle as it sounded more like trading in a spouse than it did trading in a phone.

Listen to these quotes and remarks, all taken directly from Apple’s press release, and tell me if this sounds like a speedy phone or speed dating:

• “Most beautiful ever”
• Thinnest
• Lightest
• Taller, not wider
• Longest lasting
• Blazing fast
• Stunning
• Jaw-dropping
• Smarter
• Enhanced
• More natural sounding speech
• More natural fit
• Increased durability
• Define the future

And last, but not least:

• Available

Remind me what I’m purchasing again?  Oh yeah – a PHONE…

Let me know if it changes your life. If it doesn’t, don’t fret. Another model will be along soon

A Marriage of Meat

Before we even begin this discourse, let me say this:

“A wife is not a piece of meat”

Now, with that said, let me tell you how making great barbecue is eerily similar to making a great marriage.

A great marriage doesn’t just occur. And neither does mouthwatering barbecue. Most of us understand the effort required to make a marriage flourish, which includes items like planning, hard work, patience, creativity, prayer, and commitment, but you may not realize how the same components are required for mouthwatering barbecue.

Planning
Pulling off a successful cook requires advance planning. There are cook times, ingredients, prep work, equipment, meat, and the serving to consider. You take notes, read books, and ask questions, all in an effort to become a better pittmaster.

Hard Work
Pulling off a successful cook is not easy. And it doesn’t just happen. You can’t just push a button or plug something in and turn out great barbecue. It will make you sweat, wear you out, and drop to you to your knees. But the more you put into making great barbecue, the more you get out. Actually, you get much more out of it.

Patience
“If you’re looking, you ain’t cooking.” The more you look, the longer it takes. And cooking great barbecue takes FOREVER. Upwards of 16 hours, not counting the prep time, rest time, serving time, or pulling time.

And guys, if we’re looking, we ain’t cooking, when it comes to our eyes and our marriage.

Creativity
There are only so many ways you can cook a butt. It has to take 12-16 hours to be good and needs smoke to give it great flavor and bark. So to stand out from the crowd, you need to be creative. Creative in your rubs, spices, sauces, and woods. And if you find the right balance, in conjunction with everything else, you may be the one holding the trophy and the big check at the end of the weekend.

Prayer
While prayer is an essential part to a great marriage, you may not consider it a key component to great barbecue. You’d be wrong – way wrong. So many things can go wrong while cooking for 16 hours, many of which you have no control over.

I’ve seen hot, humid weather, where you had a hard time keeping the temps down, change to a monsoon, causing fires to go out, equipment to get soaked, psyche to get crushed, and schedules to get ruined. And if you’re not praying, you have no prayer…

Commitment
The most important piece of any marriage is commitment and the same is true for barbecue. You have a tried and true plan, one you’ve seen work countless times, but even so, when things begin to go awry, the tendency is to change what you know works and try something else.

You give up your plan and toss it aside and you if you have no chance for success. You can’t change what you’re doing because someone else does it differently. You can’t take your schedule and try to cheat it. You can’t “wing it”. You need to be committed to your plan, no matter what.

Also, there is an unwritten rule in barbecue: “You eat what you cook, no matter what”. It doesn’t matter if you burn the meat or if your chances in the creativity department don’t work or if the schedule wasn’t right. You eat what you cook – no questions asked.

The same is true for marriage. When you say “I do”, you say it for better or worse, no matter what. If things get tough, you stick it out. If things don’t go as planned, you stick it out. No matter what.

So, next time you have a craving for barbecue, think of your spouse. And take the time to enjoy both.

I Vow to Never…

What makes the summer Olympics so relatable is the sense that with proper training, dedication, & diet, we too could become a gold medalist. We feel like we could be the best swimmer or diver or speed-walker or marksman.

I get the same feeling every July 4th watching the Nathan’s Hot Dog eating contest. When I look at Joey Chestnut, or any other competitor, I don’t see any God-given talent: he doesn’t have to run fast or jump high. He just has to eat.

And as the title character in Antwone Fisher said, “I could eat”.

And not only can I eat, I love to eat. I enjoy and appreciate food – it is more than sustenance to me.

But eating for the joy of it and eating competitively are two different things.

I know, because a few years ago I got my shot to go “All in” with a large cheese pizza. But for me, there was no championship belt, prize money, or live tv crew. There were no fancy introductions, special costumes, or announcers.

My shot at the world of competitive eating wasn’t the main attraction; it was only another cheap crowd pleaser at a minor league baseball game. And most people weren’t even paying attention; they were trying to convince the sun to set so the main act could begin: fireworks. Apparently it takes 15-20 minutes to get fireworks ready, and there is no better space filler than people stuffing their faces with Papa Johns.

And I was only selected when I asked the head of entertainment a question about a totally different topic. She kept ignoring my questions, never even looking up from her clipboard. When she was fully exasperated, she glanced up. And what she saw turned her mourning into dancing. Just to make sure, she took a second glance. Looked me up and down, smiled, and told me I was contest #5.

Contestant #5 in tonight’s eating challenge. And that I should meet her after the game to go on the field and participate.

They didn’t even know my name – never asked. I was just one of six guys selected from the crowd. Four of the guys were part of a bachelor party and were too libated to know better. One was a high school athlete with a daily caloric intake similar to Michael Phelps. And there was me.

They gave each of us a leftover Papa John’s pizza from the concession stand and a small cup of water. We were to have 10 minutes to eat the entire pizza. First one finishes, wins. Crust must be eaten to count.

The countdown begins and away we go. The high school kid jumps out to an early lead, followed by the most drunk of the soon to be groomsmen. I am somewhere in the middle.

After the first few minutes, the high school kid begins to fade as do two members of the bachelor party. They ate the crust first and it killed their buzz. They began to realize what they were doing. I am holding steady, tied for second with the third member of the bachelor party. We both trail the fourth member of the bachelor party, who has somehow snuck a beer into the competition.

At the halfway point, it’s down to the beer drinkin’ groomsmen and myself. He has the lead, three friends prodding him on, and a continual buzz. It’s not looking good for me.

Entering the fourth quarter, I’m still trailing. My jaw is wearing out and it hurts to chew. I look over and this guy is still going strong. And he’s washing it down with more beer.

I give it my all, but in the end, I am no match for beer and a bachelor party. Neither one of us finishes the pizza, but he ate more than I did. I make a comment about beer, crust, and rules to the event coordinator, but she doesn’t care. The natives want fireworks and she doesn’t have the stomach to watch anyone else eat more food, so she brushes me off and declares him the winner. He smiles and shouts his dominance. His friends feed him another beer and secretly take his photo.

I head back to the crowd and find my party. They pat me on the back and give me well-wishes. The pats hurt. So do the metal seats. The pain of eating begins to set in and it forces me to lay across the bleachers.

I vow to never eat again.

Then I think of all the foods I could never eat again. That won’t work.

I vow to never eat pizza again. Then I think of the wood fire grilled pizzas and Mellow Mushroom and dessert pizza. That won’t work.

I vow to never eat too much again. Then I think of Thanksgiving and Christmas and buffets and homemade desserts. That won’t work.

I vow to never compete in an eating contest again. Then I think of Man vs Food and how awesome some of the challenges would be. That won’t work.

I vow to never compete in an eating contest against a drunk bachelor party again.

Now that will work.

BBQ Chicken on the Grill

I’ve never been brave enough to put together a whole post based just on a recipe, nevertheless something I put together, but after tonight’s BBQ chicken, that will be changing. This is a simple, yet unbelievable version of grilled (and smoked) bbq chicken.

For this version, I used boneless, skinless chicken breasts since that is what we had available, but this recipe would also work great with split chicken breasts or thick pork chops.

Also, this recipe works best using a grill with two or more independently controlled burners.

Ingredients:

• Chicken breasts
• Ziploc bag or other container
• Extra Virgin Olive Oil
• BBQ Rub (I used my own rub)
• Aluminum Foil
• Wood chips
• BBQ Sauce (I used a store bought sweet & spicy bourbon sauce)

Directions:

1. Place chicken breasts into large ziploc bag or sealable container
2. Add enough Extra Virgin Olive Oil to judiciously coat the chicken
3. Add 3-4 Tablespoons of your favorite BBQ rub. I had some homemade rub leftover from a previous cook, so I used this. The rub should lightly coat the chicken so as to turn the EVOO a similar color as to the base of the rub
4. Set chicken aside to marinate
5. Light one-half of the grill burners and set to Medium-High
6. While grill is warming up, take aluminum foil and fold to form a pouch or bowl and insert wood chips. Be sure to leave the top open for smoke to leave pouch. Place loaded pouch directly on burner. (See pic below of my setup)
7. Once grill is hot, sear chicken directly over heat for 3-5 minutes per side
8. After each side is seared, move chicken to highest rack on non-heat side
9. Generously apply BBQ sauce to chicken and flip so sauce side is down. Sauce other side
10. After approximately 15 minutes, turn chicken and apply additional BBQ sauce as desired
11. Add additional wood chips, as needed
12. Cook as such until internal temp reaches 165.

    

    Use solo, pair with a side, or use it to top a salad.

    Thanks and let me know what you think!

It Could Be Worse

At some point each of us must face some pretty harsh truths: Santa Claus, Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy – and most adults don’t get summer vacation.

But just because we don’t get the summer off from work doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun. A few years ago, Tanger was in the process of being redeveloped. And with the redevelopment came three new restaurants.

Unfortunately, one of the restaurants (to remain nameless) was forced to have the majority of the construction occur in the heat of the summer.

On one Al Gore type summer day, the foreman, who I’d gotten to know quite well, called to ask a few questions. It was just after lunch and the heat was clearly taking a toll. He was short of breath and I could hear him wiping his brow.

When I answered, he started with “Holy S%#^, it’s hot out here!” Followed by further gasps for air and the sounds of him chugging water.

My response: “Really? It’s a lovely 74 degrees here, with a slight breeze. Matter of fact, I was a little chilly earlier and had to put on a sweater.”

His response: “Willy – F%#^ YOU!”

Once I stopped laughing, I helped him out and we both went our merry ways.

The moral of the story is this – just because you don’t get a vacation, doesn’t mean you should pity yourself. It could be worse: you could be laboring in the summer sun only to have some smartass in an air conditioned office giving you some lip.

Ton of Ted’s & Mike’s

Two things I will not be doing this weekend – going to the movies to see “Ted” and going to the movies to see “Magic Mike”. But since they are getting some buzz, it made images of other “Ted’s” and “Mike’s” come to mind. So seeing as this is my place to share my random thoughts and musings, here is a list of Top 10 Ted’s & Mike’s that come to my mind (not necessarily the most famous):

Ted’s:

1. Ted Dibiase, “The Million Dollar Man” – Cause everybody’s got a price


2. Ted Kaczynski, Unabomber – More famous than Gerald Lambeau

3. Ted Bundy, the serial killer

4. Ted Turner, Cable Mogul, Ex-husband to Jane Fonda, and Jesus Freak spotter

5. Ted Nugent, Full time Political Activist & reality star & part time musician

6. Ted Kennedy, Senator, Designated Driver, & Supporter of the Disabled

7. Ted Williams, aka “The Splendid Splinter”, “Teddy Ballgame”, & “The Kid”

8. Ted Danson, aka Sam Malone the ladies man

9. Ted Mosby, from How I Met Your Mother – Architect & great storyteller

10. TED (Technology, Engineering, Design) – Purveyor of conferences, talks, & warm fuzzies

Mike’s:

1. Mike Tyson, aka Iron Mike, Kid Dynamite, & cameo appearance maker

2. Mike Ditka, ‘Da Coach of ‘Da Bears

3. Mike Krzyzewski, Coach K

4. Mike & Ike, Candy pills

5. Mike Schmidt, aka Schmitty and Hall of Famer

6. Mike Huckabee, Guvnah’, weight loss guru, and friend of Chuck Norris


7. Mike Myers, Actor & Halloween Character (same guy, maybe?)


8. Mike Jordan, the man everyone wants to be


9. Mike Wazowski, from Monsters, Inc. – When I first laid eye on you


10. Mike Seaver, aka Kirk Cameron & heartthrob


So – who did I miss?

My Mom is a Cubs Fan & So is Yours

My mom is a Cubs fan. And so is yours.

And they have no idea.

My mom’s never been to Wrigley Field. Never heard of the Curse of the Billy Goat or Tinkers to Evans to Chance or Bartman.

I’m not even sure if she’s ever been to Chicago, let alone the North Side.

And other than a 6th grade report on Ernie Banks, and the subsequent Starting Lineup action figure she bought, I can’t think of any correlation she has to the Cubs.

But she’s a Cubs fan. Through and through.

Or at least acts like one.

The Cubs, affectionately known as the Lovable Losers, have the greatest and most supportive fans in baseball.

You could argue St. Louis has the best fans, for it is the premiere baseball town. But they have a reason for their support – success

You could argue the Yankees or Red Sox have the best fans, but they’ll turn on you in a heartbeat. Just ask A-Rod or Buckner.

See, the Cubs haven’t won a World Series since 1903 and haven’t played in one since 1945 (before she was born).

No one alive has been able to celebrate a World Series win and only those on Social Security have even seen the Cubs participate in one.

And yet, Wrigley Field remains full. The fans continue to show up in support of their team. Whether it be a cool, spring night or hot, summer afternoon, the fans are there.

And they aren’t always concerned with the results. They just love watching their team play ball.

And that’s my mom. With it being me, and only me, she doesn’t get a ton to cheer about. Very few, if any mountain top moments.

But she’s always there. Always supportive. Rain or shine. Hot or cold.

Great days and bad. For runs of good luck – and for rough patches.

When everything is on the line. And when nothing.

She’s not concerned about the result, but about the player.

And I bet her favorite Cub is Mr. Cub, Ernie Banks. Because to her, it’s always a great day for a ballgame. And she’s always ready to play two.

A Thankful Clemson Man

As a Clemson man, I have plenty to be proud of and thankful for. Probably more than most. And I say that in great humility, as I’m constantly reminded of how special this place is.

I could speak of Clemson’s humble beginnings as a land grant institute, being the first public school in South Carolina to admit black students, and its technological advances to the fields of agriculture and science.

I could speak of its athletic history, how it owns South Carolina, has a National Championship in football, and another conference title under its belt.

I could speak of its beauty, nestled in the foothills and surrounded by Lake Hartwell.

I could speak of its academic reputation and the power of a Clemson degree.

All of those make me so proud, and thankful, to be a Clemson Tiger.

But none of them are THE reason I am thankful to be a Clemson man. No, there is one thing that makes it even more special, and makes me even prouder: Our military history.

When the first students entered the Clemson campus in 1893, they were more than just students, they were military. And since that day, over 10,000 Clemson alumni have served their county, from the Spanish-American War to today.

And of those 10,000 alumni, 470 gave their life to this country.

Countless others, like my father, a Vietnam Veteran, came to Clemson after their service. And I wonder how many more future Clemson alumni never got the chance my father did. I wonder how many future Clemson alumni never came home.

I used to call my dad every Memorial Day to thank him for his service. And every year he would explain to me how this day was not about him, but those who gave their lives to protect our freedoms. I would agree, but thank him again anyway.

See, I had the opportunity to fulfill my dreams of attending Clemson. Or wearing the orange and purple with pride. Of singing the alma mater. Of wearing the ring.

But I can’t help but wonder how many of those same dreams were never fulfilled. I wonder how many dreams are buried in France or Vietnam or the South Pacific.

This place we call Clemson is amazing. And a lot of it is due to our military history, but I can’t help but wonder how much better it could have been if every young man who gave their life for this county would have attended.

To read more about Clemson’s military history, its honoring of its veteran alumni, and ways you can support, watch the video below and check out the following links:

• List of alumni who gave their life on the battle field
  http://cualumni.clemson.edu/Page.aspx?pid=1054

• List of alumni and students currently serving
  http://cualumni.clemson.edu/page.aspx?pid=766

• Great summary and photos of Clemson military history
  http://www.tigernet.com/forums/thread.jspa?threadID=441660

A Neverending Love Story

As a child, each stage of life is tied to a movie. Rather than invest in a new movie, you would cycle through an old one. Over and over. Until the VHS tape was worn.

One such movie from one such stage: The Neverending Story.

I can’t quite nail down the stage of life nor my age, but I do remember the young boy skipping school to read this special book. And I could relate to the young boy as reading made words come alive (not literally, like the movie) And to this day, words, in all formats, still hold a special place with me.

However, other than this young boy, I don’t recall much else about the movie.

Except for two scenes: the scene that made me cry and the scene that made me shout for joy.

The making me cry scene:
A young boy (different from the reader) is riding his horse when they encounter quicksand. The horse begins to drown while the young boy attempts to save him. The boy tries everything in his power to save the horse, but no luck. The horse drowns. The young boy cries. I cry.

The shouting for joy scene:
At the end of the movie, the boy who skipped school gets a chance to ride this giant magic dog/dragon and chase some bullies into trash cans. The world is saved and the boy gets his revenge. I shout for joy.

As I’m living these memories again, the stark contrast between the two scenes causes me to think of the two main parts of the Gospel. The sad and the glad.

The truth of the Gospel brings sadness. For the first time, we realize we’ve screwed up. Made mistakes. And we can’t fix it. And it doesn’t fix itself.

The Gospel causes us to compare ourselves to Christ.

And we’ll never win. We don’t measure up. None of us. Ever.

But the Gospel also brings good news. There is a solution. There is a rescuer. There is a way out.

The Neverending Story doesn’t end with the horse dying. It ends in victory. With the world being rescued. Rights being wronged. And the main character soaring on the wings of Falcor.

Similarly, the Gospel doesn’t end with us feeling inadequate. Or sad. Or a failure.

No, it too ends in victory. With a rescuer. With rights being wronged. And the main character soaring on the wings of eagles.

So the next time you’re watching a random 80’s movie with flying dogs and tragic scenes, remember the Gospel. Remember you are a new creation. And remember you were sought out and rescued.

And that will make you shout for joy!