This whole wedding planning thing has gone a lot smoother than I think Sarah and I anticipated. Sarah has bought her dress, picked out bridesmaid dresses, booked the ceremony and reception sites (including food and drinks), ordered cakes, secured a DJ, and remained relatively calm and lighthearted about it all. Me? Well, I’ve started working on a wedding website… oh, and I registered for tools and camping stuff at Sears. I also called about chair prices for the outdoor ceremony.  Yep, I’m pretty much useless.

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I don’t remember the first “truth about Obama” e-mail that was forwarded on to me, but the hate-filled crap still seems to be flying around the internet.  Almost daily I hear some type of reference to Obama linked to Islam, playing on the xenophobia of fearful Americans that equate Islam with every societal ill from high gas prices to gay marriage.  Instead of making educated decisions in the voting booth, too many turn to opinionated “news” reporters and hate mongerers with keyboards.  A public fist pound between a husband and wife is called a “terrorist jab” on a “fair and balanced” “news” network and a scarf gets a donut commercial pulled from the air.

Oh, and somewhere there are people who heard from “high ranking” folks that somebody saw a video of Michelle Obama using the term “whitey.”  Oh, and conveniently enough, it happened at Trinity.  Nobody actually can produce anything remotely related to this, but it’s enough fodder to keep the focus off of real policy long enough to maybe convince a few more voters that we aren’t ready for a biracial president.

Right.  Having a non-white president would be the worst of our problems.  The last 7.5 years have been so successful, why not have more of the same?

I’m glad that people are talking about the recent decision by Dunkin Donuts to pull an ad featuring Rachel Ray in a scarf that some random nut with a blog deemed too similar to a keffiyeh.

This xenophobic hate mongerer wasted no time in linking the scarf, which apparently was a floral print available at a major US retail chain, to terrorism. You see, to the blogger, the keffiyeh is not worn because it protects the wearer from the sun in an arid climate and can quickly be adjusted to protect the face from wind. No, the keffiyeh apparently identifies the wearer as a terrorist. Seriously, only a terrorist could consistently whip up tasty looking meals in 30 minutes and still look like… actually, I better not post the picture I found when I googled Rachel Ray.

Regardless of the appearance of Rachel’s scarf, what is more concerning to me is the implied idea that xenophobia can completely control what we are exposed to. If you are sitting there, watching tv, and Rachel’s commercial comes on and you say to yourself, “Man, the scarf looks like a keffiyeh! I refuse to support a business with a commercial featuring a keffiyeh!” that’s your decision. It’s ridiculous, but if you and a bunch of other folks decide not to go to Dunkin Donuts because of it, well, have fun with that.

But because some blogger calls attention to it, the corporation decides to pull it? There is something deeply troubling about that. You want to talk about the degradation of our society? Look no farther than power-obsessed fake celebrities that somehow gain notoriety for being a valuable contributer to political discussions that use their perceived soapbox to tear down the very fabric of our society.

Yes, all of this over a commercial for a donut company. I hope said blogger continues to be exposed until her credibility is destroyed beyond recognition. Unfortunately, I feel the enemies of the great society we could become will continue to support the nuts with keyboards that decide being drunk on their own power is more important than common sense.

So here’s how I’m starting to understand this country…

1) Pastors are only allowed to mention the work of the government if they are asking God to bless America or somehow supporting the efforts of the current administration

2) Any effort to curtail the proliferation of guns in our society is reckless work of a bloated government, but using the legislatures and courts to define marriage is acceptable

3) Do not, under any circumstances, take part in anything that remotely resembles the Middle East. If you do, you are supporting terrorists that could and will strike at any moment.

Thank goodness we got that cleared up!

Work is crazy busy and Sarah and I are spending pretty much every possible second traveling and planning this shindig. Looks like it will probably be in late September or October. Everybody keeps saying that seems quick, but it seems about right to me. Plus, an outdoor fall wedding will be awesome… especially if our latest idea pans out. When I talk to my married friends and say we’ll probably have a 6 month engagement, they all seem to think it’s plenty of time and a really good plan. More details to come…

In the meantime, check this out. It is consistently one of the most expensive gas stations in the city, but still, this is getting crazy. I was telling folks in Ohio over the weekend that we hit this price in Chicago and some didn’t believe it. I’d expect to see most stations at this price in about a week or two. It’s about time to sell a kidney… possibly a lung.

The first wedding I can remember was for my dad’s cousin Ken and his wife Alice. I don’t remember much except the big wooden pews. There are some great pictures of me (the ring bearer) and the flower girl and a few stories of the echoing effect produced by farting on said big wooden pews, but those are mainly reserved for rehashing each year when we get together at Christmas.

Then there was my cousin Mary Ellen. I think I was in high school and I remember arguing with my mom about wearing shorts to the wedding. My mom, as usual, was probably right. I think my brother and I both wore shorts anyway, which surprisingly enough turned out not to be a big deal.

I remember Sally Spencer, a friend from high school, getting married while I was in college. I made it back and felt a little out of place because it was the first time I was giving a card to a newly married couple and I had no idea what to write. I imagined them reading my well thought out nugget of wisdom and forever changing their outlook on life. Instead, I got nervous and scribbled something about a path always rising to meet the sun shining on their backs and thought about not signing my name at all. I got a thank you card in the mail several weeks later with a note from Sally thanking me for coming and I just assumed she was moved beyond words by my card inscription. Looking back, it’s probably more likely that whatever I wrote was complete jiberish and unreadable.

Since college, I’ve had the chance to attend and participate in some amazing weddings. Geoff and Becca encouraging me to start the slow clap before her procession down the aisle will forever be one of the greatest memories and stories recorded in wedding lore. I remember saying to Geoff, “Wouldn’t it be awesome if right before Becca comes down the aisle, someone stands up and starts the slow clap, and then a few other people stand up and join in until the entire church is clapping like crazy?!” Next thing I know, Becca has completely bought into the idea and, well, there was no way of stopping it.

I’ve been lucky enough to stand up as a groomsmen for two brides - my friend Rachel and my cousin Melissa. It was tough to explain how I knew the groom when folks asked, but pretty cool at the same time. Rachel’s brother-in-law’s speech at the reception is seared into my brain. If you’re curious, you can ask me about it sometime.

Then there was Joel and Jen’s wedding, all located on the W family farm. There were moments when we worried about a runaway golf cart possibly killing attendees, but the entire event managed to go off without a single fatality! There was even karaoke with a version of “You Give Love a Bad Name” that pretty much rocked… mainly because Joel’s air guitar was so amazing it actually made grown men weep. If it was not Joel’s wedding, there is no doubt he could have taken any single woman in attendance for his own.

Since moving to Chicago, it seems like every other Saturday in the summer has been taken up by the celebration of nuptials. Each ceremony has so perfectly matched the couple - from outdoor weddings in the park with cornhole and volleyball to candle lit sanctuaries.

I think it was through a combination of all of these ceremonies that I began to truly understand the importance of marriage. Through a sacrificial submission to one another, two people stand in front of loved ones and express an emotion and commitment to one another that is the closest they will ever get to the love God has for us. In a fallen world that at times is overwhelmingly pessimistic, a man and woman decide to buck the trend and join together in a holy union that is only possible because of the death and resurrection of Christ.

The past couple of months have been heavy on my heart and soul. I’ve been wrestling with the idea of what it means to be one part of that union. What do I have to sacrifice? What do I have to gain? Will I ever be able to play Halo again? These are just a few of the questions that ran through my head.

But each time I would take these thoughts to God or to one of my close friends, I would hear the same things. My married guy friends confirmed that yes, you do sacrifice a lot. You probably will have to give up a large chunk of Halo time, they confessed. But they assured me that somehow it all is worth it.

So, being the mature person I am, I shake my head and give them a wink. I know what makes it worth it.

Apparently though, much to my surprise, it’s not just the sex that makes it worth it. I’m not sure what else it could be, but apparently there’s much more to experience.

That being said, what became so clear to me in the past couple of weeks was that I have found a person that I want to experience all of the new pieces of life that my friends referred to. I found the girl that I want to sacrifice for and love and even do her laundry (occasionally). So, on Sunday, after a walk through the park near my house, I asked Sarah to make that commitment to me. And she accepted.

This is a surreal feeling and the page is just starting to be turned. What awaits us in the coming months and years is completely unpredictable, but thankfully there are many who have gone ahead of us and seem to speak highly of the adventure.

Plus, she said we can register for a Wii. This girl is awesome.

Getting out of the city for a long weekend is always a welcome treat, especially after the winter we just had. I don’t know if I can remember a winter that has lasted so long or has been so consistently cold and I’d prefer it if the city could make sure it doesn’t happen again. I figure I’m paying enough in taxes and parking tickets, the least the city could do is give me a few days above the 30 degree mark.

Anyway, it was pretty great spending the weekend with Sarah and some great friends in West Virginia. Watching my friend Corey get married was something I never expected in my lifetime, but leave it to him to defy my expectations. It was a great morning ceremony with a brunch reception, and honestly, does it get better than pancakes at a wedding reception?

I think not.

Coming back to the city was a dose of reality. The warm weather brought with it a wave of gun violence. Already this year too many Chicago Public School students have been gunned down - some targeted, some random. Growing up in southeast Ohio, gun violence is a rarity and when it does happen, the entire region is in shock. Here in Chicago, you quickly become desensitized to it until numbers start popping up in the paper like, “24 CPS students killed so far this year,” or, “36 shootings, 9 killed.” By then the weight of the situation is overwhelming.

The answer, I fear, is much more complicated than the gun legislation being called for by the mayor. The guns being used to commit these acts are not legal in Chicago, but regardless, the question needs to be asked - why are folks seeking these guns out to commit these acts? What is it the convinces kids in our schools that academic success is not a viable option?

Since joining the staff and collective effort of Teach For America, I’ve heard some very valid weaknesses of our two-year program that brings talented college graduates into our nation’s most under-resourced classrooms. I can understand the worry among traditional career teachers, but I have to ask - what else are they doing? Are they moving into a severely under-resourced district with a tradition of weak student test scores and applying for a job? If they are taking those steps, are they walking into their classrooms expecting their students to perform as high, if not higher, than their suburban counterparts?

That’s what our corps members are doing. They walk into classrooms full of students with low test scores with a sense of possibility and the energy needed to walk in step with their students. It’s what I see in my friends that teach here in the city, and principals and superintendents need to have the power to weed out the teachers that fall short.

Education is certainly not the only key to turning around this resurgence in violence, but it surely is a good start. We have to start fighting the overwhelming helplessness and cynicism that pollutes our conversations and efforts to turn the tide. Now if we could just find more leaders in our districts and schools that are willing to demand every decision be made with the best interest of students in mind… now that would be revolutionary.

So, when people say to you, “oh, don’t worry about that parking ticket… you have out-of-state plates so you’re fine,” what should your reply be?

- a) Hey!  Great point!  I’ll park wherever I want!
- b) Hmm… are you sure?  Is that some type of weird law in Chicago?
- c) Shut the freak up.  I screwed up, now I’m paying my ticket so the city doesn’t get ticked off a boot my car.

A couple of months ago, I would have probably started out at B, but soon landed on A.  It would save me money that I could spend on important things (like coffee and beer) and everybody knows what a pain it can be to park in this city.  I mean, it’s not like I’m parking in front of a hydrant or in a bus stop… just in a residential zones that get checked randomly.

Well, that’s before the city of Chicago came to the realization that this car with Ohio plates happened to accumulate a couple (or 6 or 7) tickets over the past three years.

Now, you have to understand, the city of Chicago is a greedy whore.  Apparently it is necessary to pay for our mayor to travel all over the world to scope out cities planning for the Olympics.  It’s also apparently necessary to pay the court clerk $125,000 a year and provide a “business analyst” that happens to drive her around.  I really would love to sit down with her and give her the overused line from Office Space, “So what is it exactly… that you say… you do here?”

So anyway, back to Chicago, the greedy whore.  Well, if Chicago sees a way to put a few bejamins in the bank account, there is no way the city is going to miss it.  So, if a well-meaning guy from Ohio happens to let a few tickets slip to the land of forgetfulness, Chicago likes to remind that guy that it never forgets a dolla.

So, Chicago came looking for its money.  I’m not exactly sure how much I owe, but it is definitely more than I wanted to spend at one time.  It’s my fault.  I was stupid.  I should have paid the tickets when they came through, but it just didn’t happen.  I’ll make a quick list of excuses…

- I was just getting on my feet and too poor
- They wouldn’t let me pay in “services rendered”
- They also wouldn’t take Schrute Bucks (or Stanley Nickels)
- I was morally opposed to the outrageous parking fines
- 2006 was the year I made a resolution not to pay parking tickets
- I forgot

The city decided today was the day to remind me that I owed money.  So now I feel kind of dumb… and irresponsible.  I’m not a big fan of letting crap like this happen, but I’ll live.

Maybe it is the inspiration I need to get back into the habit of using public transportation.

Regardless, the moral of the story is to give the city of Chicago all of your money.  You, in return, will get access to lots of parks filled with rude employees and roads with potholes that eat Vespas.

This message has been brought to you by the Chicago Tourism Commission.  If you’d like to help me support Chicago in its efforts to make loads of dough, please donate here (this isn’t a joke… this is really a lame solicitation).

Normally, this is the time I would be waxing poetic about the start of baseball season.  Trust me when I say my excitement has not diminished.  As any good Cleveland fan, my hopes are high that this is the year.  Unlike previous years, this year looks like it will be our best shot yet.  Many of the core players are back, and if Sabathia and Carmona can dominate from the mound, there is a good chance the Indians will be playing in October.

Unfortunately, we have a huge event for work in DC this weekend, so long passionate musings about baseball will have to wait.

Now, if we could just have some baseball weather, that would be awesome.

A little over a week ago, Sarah and I took another step towards adulthood. No longer satiated by the typical grocery store, we signed up for memberships at Costco.

Yeah, we’re that awesome.

Our friends Jud and Biz introduced us to the awesomeness of Costco. They took us a few times to help us find our way around the place, so when Sarah and I joined it was like we met up with an old friend. We had the basic layout down, but there was so much more to experience.

Up and down each row, we gazed upon giant boxes of microwave popcorn and shampoo sold by the gallon. We greeted each turn with a sense of purpose, visually recording the locations of various goods we would be searching for on later trips. Sarah got lost in the produce area, while I drooled over the wide selection of meats and beer. If there is a better representation of our relationship out there, I would be completely surprised.

I think a lot of Costco’s appeal goes into how they treat their employees and their customers. Employees get health benefits and are paid much higher than their warehouse rival, Sam’s Club. Unions are allowed and Costco even contributes to their employees’ 401(k) plans. They guarantee that nothing is marked up more than 15%, which is always a bargain when compared to the typical 25% mark up you see in most grocery stores.

Plus, they give out awesome free samples.

I think Costco is going to be our regular hangout from now on. When we can’t decide on what to do on a Friday night, it’s going to be a little Costco browsing and a slice of pizza from their in-store restaurant. Who says romance is dead?

I’m even coming up with Costco scavenger hunts we can play with our friends (only those with memberships of course… we can’t just let anybody in). My current favorite is going to be called, “Name That Wound.” We’ll play it on Saturdays when the best free samples are being brought out. Basically, the goal is to be as aggressive as possible at each sample station. When we get back together as a group, we’ll compare battle wounds and try to guess the improvised weapon that was used and the free sample the person was going after (ie: “Wow - nice black eye… it looks perfectly round, so I’m going to guess a large can of peaches while going for the last pizza roll sample”).

Or, maybe we’ll just shop for basic essentials. Who knows?! The possibilities are endless!

You ever come across one of those random websites that you realize you need to share with everyone you know so they can all join in on the joke?

Oh, you don’t? You think that’s weird? Wait, you think I’m weird? Well forget you, then.

No really, come back. You need to see this. It’s hilarious. Yes, funnier than the last thing on the internet I ‘had to share.’

I promise. You will laugh. You see, about 10 years ago… hey, where are you going? Get back here!

Yes, I’ll make it quick.

Anyway, I came to a weird realization. Garfield comics… are not really funny. At all. In fact, they’re somewhat depressing.

I don’t care if Odie makes you laugh.

Yes, but, what would happen if every character was removed from the strip except for Jon Arbuckle?

No! You would end up with this!

Seriously… Garfield… without Garfield!

I think this is my favorite.

Nope… I spoke too quickly. This is my favorite:

I can too have two favorites!

Or three!

Who doesn’t love weird humor on the internet?!

I wonder if Stuff White People Like did a post about Garfield Minus Garfield, would the internet just collapse at the sheer awesomeness?