At last, I’m finally finishing my four-part series. As I said before, I read a whole lot of books (though a handful were rereads and not eligible for this list. I will also state here that I’m sorta of cheating – a few of my stories will actually be lumped together because they were part of a series and I didn’t prefer one over another.

I do have to get into a pet peeve of mine. This list actually has more non-fiction on it than fiction, which is pretty surprising, including several memoirs/biographies. But what I really really really really really can’t stand is everyone’s insistence when writing their own memoir (or even a biography) is for the first chapter to be some pivotal moment in that person’s life, then chapter two starts at the beginning and the rest of the story is getting to that moment and its aftermath. Is there a handbook for memoir writing that mandates that you must write like that? I mean, seriously. It’s so tired.

That out of the way, let’s get it on, I’m sure I have much to say about these books.

7. 127 Hours (Between a Rock and a Hard Place) – Aron Ralston: The basis for the movie 127 Hours (which I’ve still not seen), this is a very good retelling of a horrifying and unbelievable story. It is said without too much pomp and, without knowing the author at all, I felt like he was being level about everything. He told the story in a even-keeled way (not putting blame on other things when it didn’t belong, not having a no-fear attitude more than he would have in that situation). A good read, almost a nail-biter (though the problem with auto-biographies about near-death experiences is you know that they don’t actually die or they wouldn’t have been able to write about it).

6. Heart of the Game: Life, Death & Mercy in Minor League America – S.L. Price: See, this is a biography about death. It had very good reviews and I found it very cheap at the bookstore, so I picked it up. I think there’s a pre-requisite that you need to be a baseball fan to truly enjoy this book, but if you are (even casually), this is a great underdog story, and ultimately a very touching retelling of the life of Mike Coolbaugh. Not much else to say, just a great read which tugs at just the right heartstrings.

5. Lucky Man/Always Looking Up – Michael J. Fox: These are two books, one basically leading up to his Parkinson’s diagnosis (and just a bit of aftermath) and the second book was almost entirely about his PD efforts. Most reviewers tend to talk about Fox’s amiable tone and his golly-gee ability to make you fall in love with him, but more than that I was taken aback by how good a writer he was. These were not ghost-written and I’m glad for that. He speaks about his life with optimism that I wish people in “everyday” life would have, myself included.

4. A Game of Thrones/A Clash of Kings – George R. R. Martin: Here, I’m totally cheating. I read both and they were equally as enjoyable, but it does seem like cheating to have almost 2000 pages in one entry. A few of my friends are die-hard fans who basically swore that my life would change by reading them. Well, sadly it didn’t. In fact, I’ve had these read for over 8 months and I haven’t started on the third book (which is universally considered the best) because I am not DYING to. That being said, they are thoroughly enjoyable epic novels with some fantastic characters and plot twists that you don’t really see coming. Death in these books is for plot, but no one seemingly is immune. My only real beef with the books is the needless description in them. I swear, if he simply did not describe what people were wearing and eating, he’d shave 200 pages off these books combined. Definitely worth a read if you have PLENTY of time.

3. Physics of the Impossible – Michio Kaku: I like physics. I like space. I like learning things. What’s more, I like reading about things that haven’t happened yet, but PROBABLY WILL. This was a very enlightening (and almost entirely accessible to most people) read that tells about various scientific breakthroughs and not IF, but WHEN these crazy things will happen. It struck me as amazing that things I thought were totally impossible (teleportation, invisibility, and even time travel) are not only possible, but could happen in the next few centuries (not time travel, that is WAY down the line). Some of the writeups got a bit heavy-handed in the science jargon for me, but in general, it was a good read to have around as both entertainment and a reference.

2. Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal – Christopher Moore: I had heard that this was a very very funny book (as all of Christopher Moore’s books are), but not having read anything by him, I didn’t know what to expect. Many of the “funny” authors I’ve been referred to in the past end up being quite juvenile or, worse, not good writers. He surprised me on both counts. His writing had depth, the humor not in your face or egregious or slapstick (the subtlety of a young Jesus putting dead frogs into his mouth to heal them was awesome). His writing was also much better than I’d thought, partially because many times the authorship craft gets buried beneath the attempts at humor. With Moore, he always treads a fine line between storyteller and joketeller. In fact, I was almost shocked when I got the ending and it got all heavy. I mean, I guess I should have expected it (spoiler alert: it doesn’t end well for Joshua), but the emotion he brought out there didn’t seem to contradict the earlier lighthearted style (though I’d argue he worked himself into a hole from the onset by trying to write a funny book that ended with the most famous death in history).

I read an eye-popping 32 books this year, with only six of them being rereads (5 of those were so I could read the 6th in a series I hadn’t read in a while). That is the most I’ve ever read in a year, particularly when you consider that 5 of the books alone were a combined ~4000 pages and I have two kids. It was a very divided year literarily with some very good books and a few clunkers. So let’s start with the bad. And some of these were pretty bad. Bear in mind, these are books that I have FINISHED. So let’s start with #0, a book I disliked so much I finally gave up and gave it back to the bookstore.

0) Red Prophet – Orson Scott Card: I had tried twice to slog through this book and only got a few chapters in each time. It’s the second in a series, and the first, The Seventh Son, wasn’t amazing but decent enough to warrant moving on in the series. The problems I had in this book were only two, but they were big. 1) It’s racist. Racism is part of the story, in fact, but the descriptions of Indians are downright upsetting. It’s like he couldn’t go a single passage without mentioning they were lazy or drunk. Now, I can get by racism, particularly if it’s integral to the story (which I’m inclined to think here it wasn’t), but 2) the book was skull-crushingly boring. I got maybe 50 pages in and I was waiting for anything to happen. Sequels shouldn’t be boring as much of the exposition is already established. Anyway, good riddance to this one. Now onto the list proper.

6. First Meetings in Ender’s World – Orson Scott Card: Ouch, the 2nd OSC to appear on my bad list. This one isn’t truly that bad, and really I only got it to have the original short story version of Ender’s Game. It was pretty cool to see how that had evolved (and more surprisingly how little changed). But the other three stories were pretty meh. In fact, one thing that bothered me about it was how hard OSC tried to make every single decision have significance. The story about Ender’s parents meeting was WAY too prophetic for me to swallow it for even a second.

5. Why We Suck – Denis Leary: If the entire book were written like the first chapter I’d probably like it more (random snippets of thought about various topics, something at which Leary excels). But then the rest of the book takes a meandering look at various things, lodging itself somewhere between an autobiography, a comedy book, and a vanity piece. It certainly had its chuckle moments, but not enough to support it.

4. Airframe – Michael Chrichton: One of my all-time favorite Dash definitions was Corey’s definition for “skimmington”: a talking stuffed bear that never made it on the market due to the fact that young British children couldn’t give two shits about yard work. It’s a great concept. Unfortunately, I feel the same way about this “thriller” Airframe. It’s not a bad story, per se, and there’s a charming whodunnit appeal to it, but really, I just find myself not giving a shit about airplane building and maintenance. It’s like he wrote this for a convention of plane mechanics or something.

3. The Motley Fool Investment Guide – David & Tom Gardner: I will start by saying that I bought this right as I was starting to do research about retirement and stocks. It was very cheap (it was an old edition, maybe from the mid-90s?). After finishing it, I was all revved up to follow their suggestions – it was a good sales pitch. However, I did something smart – I went online to see how their recommendations did historically. Well, lousy – worse than market average. What’s more, their “genius secret plan” was debunked shortly after writing this and they quickly stopped preaching what was written in these pages. So this is factually a bust, but I only ranked it 3rd because I found out quite early that it was all bollocks.

2. And Another Thing – Eoin Colfer: I wanted to like this story. I really really did. Hell, I wanted to go against the mainstream opinion that this book was borderline blasphemous. I didn’t care that he was a ‘young adult’ author – if you read HHGTTG again with a critical eye, you’d find out that it isn’t at a much higher level than young adult. But man, it just isn’t a good book. The best parallel I could say is this – let’s say The Simpsons hired a guest writer to write a season. And that guy was Seth McFarlane (Family Guy). Family Guy took a few ELEMENTS of The Simpsons and catered the show around that. That’s what Colfer did. He took things Adams did (the random guide entries that were only tangentially related) and the silly names and expanded just them – what resulted was so non-sequitur and disjointed as to be unenjoyable reading (the 260 pages took me longer than several of the 500+ pages). There were other negatives: a) it was no longer Arthur’s story, b) he totally copped out in terms of plot just SO he could get “the old gang” back together, c) the Guide entries were distracting and often unfunny, and WAY too frequent and d) some of the characters behaved/spoke in ways that I thought were completely uncharacteristic of them. Highly disappointing.

1. Killing Yourself to Live – Chuck Klosterman: I’ll say it now, I don’t like Chuck Klosterman, and I wish I had realized that after the 1st book I read of his. He’s pretentious, he’s not at all charming, and I want to just smack him in the face. He loves putting words like “paradigm” in each chapter when it really doesn’t belong (even if it is *technically* the correct word). He begins with an interesting idea – touring famous hotspots for rock stars’ deaths and trying to find tying elements between death and music – and turns it into this bitchy, self-centered diatribe about himself and the couple of girls he hasn’t manage to repel with his conceited personality. This book did have one fortunate bonus – it taught me not to buy any more Chuck Klosterman.

So it’s that time of year again, for my Best-of and Worst-of entertainment (books and music).  To see last year’s entries, click here:

Worst of 2011 – Music

Best of 2011 – Music

Worst of 2011 – Books

Best of 2011 – Books

Like last year, I’m stretching this into a four-part series.  I’ll start with the Worst CDs.  In all, I’ve obtained around new 50 CDs last year, not counting random online downloads from Amazon (free!).  For this list, a few notes: these CDs didn’t all come out in 2012, they were just obtained this year.  I’ve included release date years.  Also, I’m not including gifts on here, which I usually rip before giving away. Let us begin.

Runners Up: Paul & Storm: Gumbo Pants (more disappointing than bad); The Black Keys: El Camino (nothing stands out except the radio track, which I hadn’t even heard until I won this CD)

7. Wilco – A Ghost is Born (2004): This album made me coin a term. To “Wilco” a song is to take a perfectly good song and then let a tone-deaf one-armed chimpanzee have a guitar solo in the middle of it. Half the songs on this album would be perfectly fine if they didn’t have annoying guitar noise interrupt them halfway through. But alas, almost all of them do. Not as good as Yankee Foxtrot Hotel, which isn’t as good as many of the other albums I own.

6. The Corrs – In Blue (2000): This was a random whim. I had a song of them playing with the Chieftains and that song rocks. So I picked this one up for $.29. Well, it’s bland pop from start to finish. One of the songs is even famous (who knew? I certainly didn’t when I purchased the album). If it weren’t for the surprisingly good instrumental track at the end (which sounds more like what I HOPED this album would sound like), this album would not have fared so well.

5. Rockapella – Don’t Tell Me You Do (1999): Rockapella with Sean Altman fronting the band? Pretty awesome. Rockapella without Sean Altman? Not so much. Another CD with only one decent track.

4. Various Artists – People Make the World Go Round (1996): So far each of these CDs was bought at Grassroots for $1 or less, so that explains why I didn’t properly vet them. In fact, all the worst-of CDs this year were from Grassroots. However, I’ve typically done well with world/jazz/atypical music. So this “Jazz” CD seemed pretty cool, especially with some of artists on there (Herb Alpert, Lionel Hampton, Herbie Hancock…) Turns out this CD is just lame R&B, one of my two least favorite styles of music.

3. From Autumn to Ashes – Too Bad You’re Beautiful (2005): To be fair, this CD isn’t bad for what it is. They aren’t an untalented band. The problem is the style of music is one I absolutely abhor (and clearly didn’t glean based on the liner notes when I blindly purchased it). It’s thrash metal – not particularly good, but not particularly bad – but the style is just so not me that I couldn’t bring myself to find a single track I liked.

2. Ben Harper – Fight For Your Mind (1995): I remember a time where a few of my friends were going to see Ben Harper and Keller Williams in concert together and they were oohing and aahing over it. I had never heard much by either artist. But when I saw this Harper album for $.29, I figured, why not? I’ll tell you why not. This CD bores the ever-loving stuffing out of me. This whole album is just monotony incarnate. Don’t purchase this unless you are having trouble sleeping or if you want to study how to make your songwriting less interesting.

The title says it all, so if you’re not into disc golf, you can probably mosey along or look at older posts with adorable pictures of my kids.

Anyway, I’ve signed up for the Memorial, the first time I’ve ever played in this National Tour event. The actual layout of the tournament is both going to be a benefit and a detriment. 1) It’s open and probably windy. A few years ago, this would have been my bane, but that’s exactly what our Reno course is on a daily basis, so I’ve grown accustomed to it. The wind in particular could give me an advantage if it’s strong (and if I don’t have to make a crosswind up shot) because I’ve learned to play pretty consistently in heavy winds. However: 2) It’s long and at sea level. Half a year ago, length would have been something that didn’t bother me. I’m certainly no big-arm, but not a weenie either. However, in the last few months of playing, my distance inexplicably dropped off by about 50′ on my long drives. I’ve thought of a few possible reasons why, but debunked most of them. Cold? Well, a few of the tourneys were decently warm weather. My change in diet? I started that in June and didn’t start losing distance until September. Not practicing enough? I’ve NEVER practiced enough. Other stuff on my mind? Possibly, but I like to think I can shut that stuff out.

The tournament is doing something new this year (of which I am NOT a fan) – they are having a cut. So I am paying $200 for this tournament in entry fee alone and only guaranteeing myself 3 rounds of golf. That’s pretty lame, but what can you do? I’ll tell you what I can do, get in the top half. What would that take, you ask?

There are currently 84 pros signed up. So I have to come in at 42nd or better. How hard can that be? Turns out quite hard. If I go based on rating alone (I’m currently rated 963), I am sitting in T65 out of those 84. That’s bottom quarter, not top half. Now, my 963 rating is pretty low – it fell off drastically at the end of last year. So what happens if I use my strongest rating from last year (978)? That pulls my projected finish to a  top 60%. Good, but still not good enough, and that’s the highest my rating has ever been. So is it a lost cause? Will I be driving home the Saturday of the tourney?

Not quite. After all, I don’t have to have a full YEAR of that rating, just one single tourney. Looking at last year’s statistics for the Memorial, the person  at the cutline (my buddy John DeBizzle being the first one to miss this cut) averaged a rating of 987 per round. So fine, how many times have I ever averaged that for a tournament.

Once. In 2006.

Uh oh. However, in the last 14 months alone, I did come very close several times. I averaged 983 at a sea-level course I’d never played before, two rounds, 985 (3 round tourney) and 985.5 (at my home course, the open windy one, two rounds). One more good putt a round and all of those tournaments would be ‘qualifying’ ones. And in that 2006 tourney (which was my first ever pro cash), I averaged 990 in a 3-round tourney. So I certainly have it in me.

I’ve decided to break all this down now because as it gets closer to the tournament, I don’t want to be putting myself in that “I need this score” mindset – I want to just play my shots. But as it’s still 2 months away, I can do all the speculation I want. In short, I need to have the best single tournament of my life. Which means getting some of my distance back, keeping my good putting up (for the most part, putting was a plus for me this year), and getting the hell out of my head during the round. Also, getting good rest and not partying it up will be good tips.

But why stop at making the cut, why not go for the cashline? What would THAT take? Last year, 2 people with ratings lower than mine (3 if you use my 978 rating) cashed. That’s not great, but it’s certainly DOable. The average rating of last-cash? 996. Why, I’ve hit that score or better 15 times in my career (just never twice in the same tournament), and I’ve hit 990-995 an additional 9 times. Alls I’m saying is I have it in me if I can play my game and not let 100 things get in the way.

I’m sure I’ll have more of these analytical disc-golf stat type columns in the next months. After all, I’m a stat nerd.

So where do you all think I’ll end up? Will I make the cut? Think I’ll cash? Think I’ll DFL? Let’s get some hype going.

I took this picture the weekend I met my now wife for the first time. You think there’s something to that?

I started writing a letter to a very old friend who I had lost contact with shortly after high school. I wanted to catch her up to where I am at and how I got there, so I decided to catch her up on 15 years of my life, with the superfluous caveat that I would only allow myself 40 words per year. It was pretty tough, but somewhat rewarding. Interesting to see what sticks out in my memory (my first draft omitted that I graduated from college.) Here’s the result:

1998: spent much of year dressing poorly, being anti-social, and wishing I majored in writing – was put on wrong campus but became good friends with a few non-actors – dated a girl that went nuts – co-founded a multi-medium entertainment company Prometheus Productions

1999: finally started establishing friendship network and enjoying school a bit – wrote my first ever play that later debuted with Prometheus and won award – romantic scene barren – parents divorced after 33 years

2000: made resolution to date girl I’d liked for 2 years – got surprising amount of acting work –2^nd play I wrote for Prometheus got award – spent semester in London, hated it (but Edinburgh was awesome) – on 12/28, started dating that girl

2001: dated girl entire year – graduated college and took road trips – Prometheus performed last shows – was introduced to disc golf – my acting showcase (to attract agents) interrupted by 9/11, lost interest in acting after that – got new job at office-type company

2002: worked way up company ladder, soon helmed broker department – moved out of folks’ house for first time – broke up with girl for several reasons – had first liquor at 23 years old, started to make up for lost time – started website

2003: got jealous that old girlfriend moved on, got back together with her – it didn’t last – by end of year, moved in with her (as friends) – worked fine for a few months but seeds were sown for problems

2004: social implosion as friends and exes started hooking up, dishonesty and bullshittery abounded – became pretty reclusive – moved in with longtime friend where stupidity commenced and pretended to live a college-esque existence – increased disc golf activity

2005: made NYC debut as a playwright with two shows – social life rebuilt painfully slowly – started playing disc golf professionally, made $0 – quit longtime office job over increased loathing of it, worked freelance theatre lighting by year’s end

2006: released comedy music CD – toured as disc golf pro for 5 weeks, finally cashed – moved for fourth time – met no-expectations pen pal on dating site OkCupid – freelance work dried up, got job in old industry but better company

2007: fell in love with supposed no-expectations girl after several visits – first full-length musical debuted in NYC at Fringe Festival to emphatic end-of-spectrum reviews, convinced boss at relatively new job to let me move to Nevada and keep job – headed west

2008: bought 2^nd car – found out girlfriend was pregnant five days later, we got new larger apartment together – wedding plans discussed – tried to play as much disc golf as possible – finished my first novel – last year I got sleep

2009: son Landen born in January, had a “weddingish” ceremony for friends/family in May, had legal proceedings in August – after a two-month nightmare, bought our first house – spent year adapting to budgeting and selflessness with varied success

2010: Just existed happily for much of it – started small home projects – apparently played much disc golf, video games, and online poker – started reading much more frequently – company announced it could shut down close soon – panic ensued

2011: became an uncle for the first time – wife enrolled in school to get her degree – got promotion to A.V.P. at company which was now stable – welcomed second child Duncan – finished 2^nd at tournament, highest finish as a pro

2012: started short story writing project with friend – entire family traveled east to visit good friends who lost their toddler – otherwise lived life contentedly as father, husband, homeowner, professional athlete, artist, and frequent sweet potato fry chef

I’ve lived with a secret for many years. Well, it’s not completely a secret – most of my friends know, but several key members of my family do not know. Of those folks who don’t know, several have probably guessed and the remainder probably don’t want to know. So here it is:

I am as close to an atheist as you can get without using that label fully. At a bare minimum, I am a staunch agnostic. How did I get here?

I was raised in a Christian Reformed household that attended church every Sunday. I did Sunday school early where I learned, it seems, about the story of Lazarus over and over again. I’m sure there was other stuff, but I swear they really drilled that story home. I was a part of the youth group, though our excursions seemed to be less vehemently religious than they perhaps should have been. My father was a long-serving deacon at our church, and my mother for a time was the secretary. My oldest brother was also extremely active in the church.

For the first 13 years of my life, going to church meant a time to sit in the pews and draw on the church bulletins. I became quite adept at making paper airplanes at this time because, well, what else was there to do? At 13, when most people made profession of faith, I did not. Something that surprises me now: my father never required me to. My oldest brother and sister had (I believe), but it was always left up to us. At the time, I didn’t do it – not because of some innate belief – but because I simply felt I wasn’t ready, whatever that meant.

At 13, we were no longer allowed to draw during the sermons, but had to listen. It was something I was rarely able to do, a young kid with a hyperactive imagination. I can remember maybe three sermons to this day from my entire life, and one was at a guest-church in NY that explained why it’s okay to hunt animals and not to kill people (“you don’t murder rabbits”). By the middle of high school it became very apparent that my father was going to require I continue to go to church as long as I lived under his roof. It’s not that I hated it, I just didn’t get much out of it, and though I could be doing something better with my Sunday mornings. So I decided to join the choir. I always enjoyed singing, and the songs, although mostly dour, were the bright spots of going to church.

I think this tricked me into thinking I was more religious than I really was. To some degree, I was looking forward to going to church every week, not really realizing it was, at that time, SOLELY because of being in the choir. I even asked a girl I had just started dating, “What is your view of religion?” At that time, I considered myself religious enough that the question even had to be broached. But as I think back on college, I can already recall me pulling away from the idea of religion in general. I was making up excuses and illnesses so I wouldn’t have to go to church (except on weeks where I had a song to sing).

By that time I’d done a couple of years at Rutgers, I feel like I would have classified myself as simply not religious, but really with no further explanation. It just wasn’t a part of my life. By the time I’d leave Rutgers, I would probably have declared myself as not at all spiritual. It was also around that time that I started claiming to be “against organized religion.”

That transition happened pretty gradually. I started to look at how a cult was defined. I always thought of it as a group of people with shared beliefs, usually extremely outlandish, who are funded at the expense of their own followers. Well, how was Christianity any different? Every week we passed around a collection plate specifically for the church itself, to keep it running. It was voluntary, sure, but there was a certain guilt that came with not putting money in.

And here’s where I started to come to the biggest realization in my life. Most of the major religions preach that theirs is the only one – that others are wrong. In Christianity, the first commandment is that nobody has any other gods before him, and the second is that nobody is allowed to worship any other images. Other major religions have something comparable. Well, the realization was that I could not, in all honesty, tell someone else that their belief was wrong. I mean, Christians believe that Jesus’ mother conceived without sex, and that he walked on water, and that 33 years of his life are inexplicably not mentioned. Those are all pretty tough pills to swallow. It makes some of the fringe religions’ claims seem not altogether outlandish (I’m looking at you, Scientology.)

In fact, there’s my point. Most people, religious or not, consider Scientology to be a sham. Its doctrine was written by a science-fiction author, after all. Just written by a dude. Well, the Bible, at least the parts written about Jesus, were written by dudes, none of whom were alive when Jesus was. So it’s not like they had direct interaction; they were getting second-hand, third-hand (who knows, eighth-hand?) information from people about his life. I once started a rumor in college about myself, and I had a good friend later accuse me of lying to her when I denied it. Stories get mangled. It happens.

I also couldn’t look past the rampant hatred, bigotry, and (in many cases) warfare that was initiated in the name of religious differences. I had so much trouble believing that something that true and pure could be so inherently destructive.

That’s where I stayed for years – against organized religion. Fast forward until maybe the last five-ten years, where I actively described myself as “agnostic”. I just didn’t know what the truth was. I was reluctant to buy any of the major religions, but I certainly didn’t deny that there COULD be a higher power out there, possibly even an unrealistically light-skinned Arab man with a beard.

Then, in the last year, a few things happened:

1) I watched the movie “Religulous”. I’m no fan of Bill Maher (in addition to being someone whose convictions get in the way too severely to get his point across, he’s not at all funny), but this movie was an eye-opener. Basically, he did all the research that I’d wanted to do. It was interesting to see the actual religious fanatics not having answers to some of the simpler questions he asked about their religion. But where it really struck me was when he compared the major tenets of Jesus’ story to the religions that preceded Christianity (Horus and/or Osiris if my memory serves me correctly, and even someone from Norse mythology). I mean, these parallels are far too similar to chalk off as coincidence. It really really seems like people lifted “facts” straight from pre-existing religions, kinda like how the Romans just stole Greek gods and renamed them.

2) I had a visit from my father and stepmother, very devout Christians. It was an enjoyable time, although I did have to roll my eyes when they denied global warming, and had to actually speak up when they condemned homosexuality (“The real problem I have is when they want to adopt a child. I mean, what chance does that child have?” I brought up the divorce rates among straight folk and how in my opinion that would be harder for a child to grow up with.) But my stepmother asked Ashley if in the four years I’d been here we’d found a church yet. I don’t know whether that means that they honestly thought I was still religious enough to attend a church, or that she was putting out a feeler to see what our reaction would be. Ashley gave a non-committal answer and it wasn’t brought up again.

But this interchange was part of the reason for this blog post. I don’t want this to be a secret anymore. I’m not religious. I won’t be raising my kids as religious. That does NOT mean that I will raise them necessarily to forsake religion. If they get older and ask about it, I have no problems if they want to go out in the world and amass information about whatever they want. And I will instill them with several of the moral compasses that most religions institute (not killing people is pretty universal). I will, however, actively dissuade them from making hateful social choices for any reason  – whether religiously-based or not. I will not tolerate homophobia, racism, disdain of the poor… etc. Tolerance is preached in so many religious sects but practiced in so few. It will be a hallmark of my boys’ upbringing.

3) I’ve been to recent ceremonies where religion trumped the actual event. Weddings, funerals, even reunions. I’ve been to them all where I heard more ‘praise Jesus’ and ‘he is good’ than I heard mention of the people getting married, the ones who passed, the people who were meeting… It’s conceited and, frankly, bullshit. To have a ceremony in the tradition of a religion I have no problem with. Where I have a problem is when it becomes a billboard for religion rather than a template from which to work. One ceremony saw the pastor use the time to basically try to convert any non-believers to Christianity. That has NO part in the ceremony! Talk about the people who were the cause of this ceremony, you self-involved douche!

So where does that leave me, and why am I not an atheist? What am I, exactly? First, here is why I’m not an agnostic in the sense that most people perceive (but I think, by definition, I am a perfect agnostic):

I don’t actively believe that there is a god. I think most people’s definition of agnosticism ends there – they feel like agnostics could be swayed into some of the facets and stories of Christianity (or Buddhism or Judaism) even if they do not necessarily think there may be a bearded guy who created everything. Me? I have a very active disbelief in all religious teachings. Christianity is the whipping-boy because it’s the one I know the most about, but it holds true for all. I do not believe that a mythical bored man created everything in six days, I do not believe someone turned water into wine, I do not believe in an immaculate conception, I do not believe there is a Heaven where winged people play harps, I do not believe there is a burning place of damnation for all non-believers. These are absolutes in my mind: just as I believe that Earth is round, I believe that Christianity is in all ways fake. I believe in some of the ETHICS of Christianity (you shouldn’t murder, cheat on your wife, etc) but none of the rest of it. I also fully believe that there isn’t a Mohammad that judges everyone, just as there is no Flying Spaghetti Monster, just as there is no spaceship behind the comet. I think all the religions that are widely practiced today have it wrong, and it’s egotistical of people to say they have it all figured out.

However, on to why I will not say I’m atheist: just as it is wrong for humans to say they figured out the mysteries of life through religion, it’s equally pompous to say that about science as well. I mean, as few as 1000 years ago, scientists SWORE the Earth was flat. As recent as 50 years ago, scientists thought there could be aliens on Mars. The fact is humans are wrong – even our experts – with spectacular frequency. So when all life – the incomprehensive complexity of, say, the human body – is said to be traced to a bunch of matter banging all over the place (a term I used in one of my stories), that’s an equally tough pill to swallow. The sheer amount of coincidences needed to brew the perfect storm of matter that caused us to exist borders on ludicrous. Of course, there are facts POINTING this direction (we can calculate that things are expanding, so it can be extrapolated what would happen if you rewound the tape), but it is NOT a fact. It is a very very sound theory. See, science is based on repeatable results, and it has a definite leg-up on religion in terms of explaining things, but it is not absolute and I don’t feel it can be considered “fact”.

Science, to me, is full of really really great explanations that I will repeat as my innate beliefs, but I will not say that The Big Bang Theory is an absolute fact. It’s just 99.9996% more likely than some dude with time to kill creating the heavens and the earth. I will also not rule out that there is something else out there, something otherworldly that perhaps caused some or all of existence to be, or even some otherworld being that doesn’t do anything, (s)he just hangs around and checks out what people are doing. I will say that this hypothetical being isn’t Jesus, and it’s not Buddha, and it’s not Zeus, but I will not say that there is a 0% chance that it exists. And that is what is needed to be an atheist. Douglas Adams put what atheism is best: “I really do not believe that there is a god; in fact, I am convinced that there is not a god (a subtle difference). I see not a shred of evidence to suggest that there is one … etc., etc. It’s easier to say that I am a radical atheist, just to signal that I really mean it, have thought about it a great deal, and that it’s an opinion I hold seriously.” I’m not quite there yet. I don’t believe that god as Christians know it exists, nor any of the majors, but I’m not ready to say that there is no possible unearthly being.

I feel compelled to add something of a post-script. I believe religions are wrong, but I don’t begrudge or belittle anyone who disagrees with my stance. Just as I was never able to tell anyone of a different religion that they were wrong, I still can’t seem to do the same thing with religious people. I don’t try to convert religious people, just as I *hope* (in vain) that they won’t try to convert me, and I’m certain that they wouldn’t be able to if they tried. We coexist. I understand historically the importance of religion, and in quite a number of people, they lead very virtuous, giving lives because of it. I can respect that. Just as I’d hope religious people would respect my beliefs, which are as steadfast as theirs.

This is going to be a several-part series about my unexpected trip east. It was originally just going to be about my diet (which I’ve made a few concessions on), but I figured I had to get more involved. There will be subsequent parts about my diet and about all the crazy stupid things that happened to us, but first, a moment to talk about why I left.

A very good friend of mine, Jason Marshall, and his wife Jen lost their 15-month old son Gavin a week ago. Gavin was born with congenital nephrotic syndrome, a very rare genetic disorder that causes his kidneys to leak out proteins and other nutrients.  While I never looked, I was told the mortality rate of this extremely rare condition was quite high (more than 50%?) So I don’t think anyone would ultimately say it was totally unexpected that he passed, but what made it most surprising was the timing.

The first year of this condition is the hardest, and he made it through more or less unscathed. Despite having to have frequent treatments (at first they were daily and then every other day, for four hours, in the hospital.) After many months, they were able to transition to home treatments, but any sort of complication (such as a low-grade fever) meant they had to go back to the hospital, and it was usually for several days or a week or more. However, after a month-long battle at the hospital a few months ago, Gavin had shown signs of doing the best he’d done – gaining weight, being in great health. Jen had recently taken a video of Gavin walking (with the assistance of holding onto things) ALL around the room. Then, last Thursday, he simply stopped breathing. Despite the valiant effort of the EMTs, they could not bring him back.

I heard this news at around 7:30 am last Thursday. By noon, I had already made plans for the whole family to head over to New Jersey and then Connecticut to be there for Jay and Jen. Now, I’m not a godparent to Gavin or anything, but I always felt there was an extra-special kinship that the Marshall family and ours shared, despite the kids never having met. Jay has probably spent more on cool onesies and gadgets for Duncan and Landen than we have, and I was fortunate enough to be able to give parenting advice here and there for Gavin (I was one of the first of Jay’s friends to be a father.) So it was a no-brainer for me to be there.

Let me tell you about Gavin. In 15 months, he was able to touch more lives positively than most people strive to in a lifetime. He was loved like few others out there, and he loved with such amazing strength right back. He had a smile that melted hearts, and they melted often as he smiled all the time. There were a few things about Gavin I noticed in the two times I’d been fortunate enough to meet him. He was trusting, loving, and incredibly bright. He taught those around him so many things: how to fight, how to scooch, and how to love. But the one thing he taught over all else was how to smile amid adversity. His life was about as challenging as you could get for a child of any age, yet you’d be hard pressed to find a photo of him not grinning ear to ear. In fact, among the photos at the wake was one where someone had held up a clear drum-head, and Gavin put his mouth up to it and blew, puffing out his cheeks. It is one of the greatest photos I’ve ever seen.

As I said, I was lucky enough to meet him twice. Once when he was probably less than 3 months old. He slept for nearly the few hours I was at Jay’s house, though I did get to pick him up a few times when he eventually awoke. He was so light at the time, yet I still felt like I was holding not just a baby, but a whole person. The seeds for his glowing personality were already there. But it was the last trip I’ll always remember.

Last month I had to go east for work. I arranged it so I’d have a disc golf tournament to go to in CT. It was an excuse to try to get up to see Jay and Jen and Gavin. It became immediately apparent though that the plans just didn’t line up – Gavin was basically confined to his house on Saturdays for his treatment, and I had to be back in Jersey by 7 for another obligation. But I was driven at the time to see them for reasons I didn’t know then. I borrowed a car and woke up at 7:30 to drive 3 hours up to see them when he got up from his nap. Before I  drove down 2 hours to practice at the disc golf course I would have at tournament, I squeezed in maybe 3 hours of hanging out. In all, I drove 5 hours out of my way. But I was resolute in my desire to go. While there, I got to see enjoy the magic that is Gavin. I took some photos with him and of him playing with a friend’s 4-month-old. I got to watch him perfect the art of forward-scooching. I took him on a walk, just him-and-me, to the pond in the backyard, where we talked about fishing. And most dear to me, I got to play a simple game of rolling a ball back and forth with him for more than 5 minutes. At the time, I thought it was simply really cool. Now I think it’s one of the coolest thing I’ve done in a long time.

It’s not just me. The scope of people that Gavin affected is far-reaching. I would estimate there were several hundred people who filed in and out through the 4-hour ceremony. Family, friends, neighbors, and friends-of-friends. Perhaps the most touching was the stream of nurses and doctors who visited. I had heard that many nurses had stopped by, and those that weren’t there were covering other nurses’ shifts so more could come. I don’t know the tally, but I do know these people were simply doing their JOB and they fell in love with Gavin and had to pay a final visit. The nephrologist (sp?) came by too, and she had just retired two weeks previous. If one of my clients passed, I doubt I’d even know. When Gavin passed, everyone knew, and everyone cared more than they might have thought. I know I’ve cried more tears this week than I have in the last 5 years put together.

I’d met Gavin twice in fifteen months. In that time, I’ve not seen my mother at all, nor one of my brothers. I’d only seem my twin brother once. There was something special about Gavin, and I feel honored to have ever met him. I know many there at that wake had never had the pleasure.

Gavin Robert Marshall, rest in peace little buddy. Your smile has made – and will continue to make – countless people smile in return.

On a chat board for disc golf, I just stumbled on this post I had made on April 28, 2005:

“Fats is deliberating “pulling a Mullet” and just up and moving in about a year to some part of the country and completely restarting his life.  Any suggestion of areas?  (Do NOT include your own city/state, because if Fats follows through with actually leaving, he is likely going to want to know nobody in the area – an actual restart)”

I have no recollection of ever posting that, nor did I know I had ever thought about moving anywhere. I guess it made sense; I knew I was quitting my job around that time, but to move across country where I didn’t know anyone? That would have been nuts.

Well, it turns out my guess was exactly right, even down to “pulling a Mitch” – moving for a girl. I just was wrong about the timeframe. I left on Halloween of 2007. Though it was a spur-of-the-moment idea. I think from the time I spoke with my boss to the time I left in my car was less than 6 weeks if memory serves me.

Who knew I knew? I didn’t.

Alas, the final episode of my 4-part Series.  See here for Worst Music, Best Music, and Worst Books.  Let’s finish this strong!

7. Earth: The Book – The Daily Show Staff:  Quite frankly, this was an improvement over America: The Book, which I felt was funny in parts but too juvenile, even for me.  The science jokes were very intelligent and definitely chuckle-worthy if you got the references.  This one was funny almost the whole way through.

6. The Pluto Files – Neil deGrasse Tyson:  A history of Pluto, including (and focusing on) Pluto’s “fall from grace,” the only reason this isn’t higher is the caliber of the books I read this year.  I had wanted to read this since I saw the inimitable Mr. deGrasse Tyson appear on The Daily Show a few years ago, advertising it.  What I never quite realized was how much NdGT had to do directly with Pluto’s seeming demotion.  I, for one, agree, but then again, that man is so likeable he could lobby to eat a penguin alive and I’d probably agree.  A very fascinating read.

5. Timeline – Michael Chrichton: I’ve read an awful lot of Chrichton since moving to Reno (thank you Grassroots Books!) and this was one of his best.  Time travel stories always capture my fancy, and this one being so far in the past gave me a little something different. Again, his research that goes into his books never ceases to amaze me.  I think the major detractor of this book was simply how many times the protagonists were in “well, we’re done now” situations only to be saved at the last possible moment.  I had just wanted them to be killed just for difference sake.  But really, this was a fun romp from start to finish.

4. Murder on the Orient Express – Agatha Christie: I liked this book far more than I thought I would.  I had seen the movie version of it back in middle school or grade school, but remembered nothing about it.  When I saw it for $1, I figured, why not?  And it was just an enjoyable old-school caper.  It’s actually a shame that this is the only pre-1940 book that made my best-of-list, but I imagine if this had been a Top 10 list instead, it might include Jules Verne’s “The Chase for the Golden Meteor” and H.G. Wells’ “Island of Dr. Moreau.”  I’m just glad I didn’t try to figure it out on my own, because I would have been hopelessly wrong.

3. Bad Astronomy – Phil Plait: For the most part, I really like Phil Plait (and his Bad Astronomy blog), even if he didn’t respond to my repeated question I’ve emailed him about the Big Bang Theory.  My only real gripes are that his skepticism shows a bit of favoritism.  And while I agree with him about things like the anti-vax movement, he tends to be much less skeptical when a scientist or astronomer makes some new untested discovery than when something he doesn’t believe in makes a proclamation.  Anyway, that aside, this book is great.  It debunks common misconceptions about astronomy, a few of which I (an avid astronomy fan) even fell prey to.  For instance, did you know you can stand eggs on their end any day of the year?  Yup.  I did it.  Crazy.  Anyway, read this book if you’re not knowledgeable about astronomy, or even if you think you might be.  It might open up your eyes a bit.

2. Sphere – Michael Crichton:  MC’s second entry this year, Sphere was one of the few books that genuinely creeped me out.  I’ve read thrillers that are supposed to be scary, but really just leave me thinking, “If this were a movie, it’d probably be scary.”  But [spoiler alert] when the crazy jellyfish start doing boring through the one scientist, and nobody had any real clue why, it really just sent a shiver through me.  The movie does a decent job of relating to the book, but the book is definitely better (as just about every book is, except for Apollo 13 – just watch the movie.)  This is my favorite MC book, though The Lost World would come close.

1. Shades of Grey – Jasper Fforde: I’m going to be honest here: I have no real idea why this book is #1 on my list.  I spent most of the book not having a clue what was going on.  Fforde is great at setting up worlds that are similar to, but drastically different from, our own.  And he states these differences up front to some degree.  In the Thursday Next books, he lets you know that it’s a world where literature is next to godliness.  In “Shades of Grey”, he puts you in a world of some crazy color heirarchy but never once explains any of it, except anecdotally throughout the book.  He doesn’t explain why swans are so dangerous.  He makes reference to things that seem commonplace, but without context (and he doesn’t give you any), you have no real understanding of how any of it ties together.  Yet I found myself really digging what happens to the main characters, and really excited for the 2nd installment (it will be a 3-part series if the back cover is to be believed).  So yeah, this is an excellent book, I am just not sure who I can recommend it to.