The Empty Soda Can

I’m going to make a confession: there are a lot of things I don’t like about our house. I mean, don’t get me wrong; it’s nice enough. I’m guessing most of my friends wonder why on Earth I wouldn’t like it. The picture at right is from before we bought it, so the weeds and mess are long since gone. It’s also still only five years old, so it’s not falling apart and is fairly modern. It’s also big—3,500 ft² big. It’s got enough room for our family and then some, which is one of the main reasons we bought it: so we could grow into it. It’s got a nice office for me to work from home, and we’ve added all sorts of wiring so that the house can handle my *ahem* enhanced technology needs. We’ve also upgraded the HVAC (as many readers already know), which makes it very comfortable. As for the location… wow. Just… wow. It’s two minutes from the kids’ elementary school, two minutes from the new Church building, three minutes from Walmart, four minutes from our bank and a gas station and resta...

First of all, hats off to my beloved brother-in-law Ed, who started me down this thought process with  this post . If you’d like to read it before continuing here, that’s fine; I’m not going anywhere. Now for my thoughts: first of all, it’s definitely easy to go to one extreme or the other. I am reminded of the conscious decision I made, somewhere along the line, that I didn’t give a *$#@ what other people think about me as long as I’m happy with myself. I’m still not sure my unconscious mind is completely on board with this decision, but it does manifest itself in things like: When I go to the beach, I generally let my gigantic belly hang out all over the place, despite the fact that most guys my size would be hiding under a T-shirt. When I was 13 years old, I really liked Debbie Gibson (mostly because I was a teenage boy with hormones, but I digress) and actually saw her in concert twice. The day after each concert, I wore the T-shirt I’d purchased there, knowing full well...