She Said YES

So.... soon there will be a Mrs. PursuingPineapple. Yes, I popped the question, and she said yes. Further details to follow, including perhaps some video of the proposal! More later.... I promise!

Guys Night Out

So.... do you think Jesus played poker with His disciples? You know, Thursday nights were exclusively reserved for playing Bethlehem Hold 'Em. No? Well, my church planned alternating "night outs" for the women and the men congregants. I think the women had their Ladies Night Out last week - I'm sure it involved lipstick shopping and listening to Beth Moore. The guys wanted to do something, but we were unsure as to what we should do. An email was sent asking if men were planning on coming, but I had my reservations. I spoke to one of the pastors and explained that if we were going to consume vast quantities of meat or if we were going to a demolition derby, I would totally be there. However, if we were going 'coon huntin' or frog giggin' I'd be less likely to attend. Neal, upset that he hadn't thought of frog giggin' before I did, agreed to the eating of beef and suggested a poker game. To ensure no murmuring or mumbling, we decided that all the money used to "buy in" would be donated to Fellowship Nicaragua a mission organization supported by our church. Somehow I volunteered my house as the site for this night of masculinity.



Men started showing up around five-thirty - well, I think a couple of them were there before that, but seeing as how I didn't get home until 5:30, they didn't come inside until I unlocked the door (all crazy parents within a 15 mile radius decided their children must be seen at 4:45 the one day of the week that I'm trying to leave at 5pm). A grill was delivered to my back patio (I don't have one), and in accordance with the stipulation B.Y.O.B. (bring your own beef), men arrived with all manner of cuts of meat. Steak and potatoes were feasted upon as the heady aroma of charcoal and seared beef wafted through my paint-splattered carport.
After gorging ourselves on our protein of choice, we split into two tables to play some high stakes (the winner won a can of Slim Jims) Texas Hold 'Em. No, like totally serious playing, with titanium travel cases of regulation chips, dealer buttons, buy in rules, little blinds, big blinds, duck blinds, er, maybe not; oh, and time limits. Yes, time limits - that brings us to the kitchen timer. So, Kirk says, "Hey, Aaron, you got a kitchen timer." "Uhhh, yeah, let me get it," I reply as a smirk becomes apparent on my face. I go grab the wonderful little chicken egg timer that Becky Latch got me for Christmas last year. I made sure to explain that, "it was a gift." By the end of the night, all the fellows had grown to love the chicken timer, and it was decided by all that my fowl little timer would be included in the tradition of future poker nights.



Serious play ensued (as soon as I printed out some poker cheat sheets that explained which hand beat what), including the use of my new very loud, automatic card shuffler which I claimed was given to me by my Grandmother on her deathbed (I really bought it at Wal-Mart the day before). It did remind me of Granny (paternal grandmom), but her card shuffler had to be cranked by hand. I'm sure she's looking up at us with love, may she rest in peace. We were betting, checking, losing, winning, buying back in (with the proceeds going to missions), and every twenty minutes the chicken egg timer would ring, which denoted that the blinds and bets had to be doubled. We all seemed to have forgotten to take our Ritalin because every seventeen seconds someone would comment, "whose turn is it," "can I just check," "is it pronounced suit or sweet," "how much is the little blind," "no, you have to bet the big blind," at which point I entertained a few other players by muttering, "I love you little. I love you big. I love you like a stinky pig." Thanks for laughing, Eric.



When only ten players remained we all moved to one table to finish this Strip Mall Baptist Poker Death Match. I quickly lost my chips (I think I only won one hand all night), and one by one other players fell by the wayside. After I was out of play, I still enjoyed being part of the action by shuffling the deck (with my extremely loud automatic shuffler). The final three players (interestingly enough, all on staff at the church) headed into the final showdown after taking Kirk's last chips, at which point, he became the "dummy blind," and I remained the "dummy shuffler." Neal forced the last hand of the night by going all in after the flop, the turn was dealt, and he won only as the dealer placed the last card. This proved the validity of my statement, which I repeated probably too many times tonight, "Everyone knows you can lose your shirt in the river."

Macro "Thursday"

So.... sorry it's been over a week since I've posted, and this one isn't spectacular, but here it is:



Macro shot of some ceramic tchotchke collecting dust. The shot is a little Georgia O'Keefe-esque, no?

So When Considering Fashion... #1

So.... on my commute to work today, all seven-tenths of a mile of it, I noticed a SUV pull suddenly out of a parking lot and onto the street right behind me, followed me closely, and then made the turn down another street with me. My mind flashed, "What are those crazies doing," and then my inner monologue screamed, "I hope it isn't What Not to Wear." Now, don't worry, I totally recognize this to be insanity, first for the fact that I thought TLC was stalking me and secondly for the fact that I comment on my inner monologue (which apparently screams occasionally). Don't get me wrong, I don't think I dress poorly enough to get on that show, but I'd totally fake wearing ill-fitting suits, tie dye t-shirts, and parachute pants to have two stylists take me shopping in New York.

Alas, it was neither Stacy nor Clinton. (Don't you think that the new James Bond, Daniel Craig, looks like a buff Clinton Kelly?) Stacy's really kind of hot, though, right? Anyway, I was too consumed with the fact that I only had six minutes before my first appointment to see where the SUV went after I turned into the clinic.

My infatuation with What Not to Wear has faded over the last year. I think mostly because they rarely re-wardrobe men anymore. So, yeah, I like fashion but not really women's fashion. I mean the only fashion show I've ever been to was the one at the fountain in Central Mall in Texarkana. My sister - maybe three years old at the time - was asked to be a model for Little Tots and Teens, a children's clothing store where my mom dropped serious cash for jumpers and dresses and bows back in the late 80's. I really don't even remember Kaitlin walking the "runway;" I just remember the one humiliated boy, wearing pastel "short-alls," whose mom insisted that he do cartwheels down the runway, and him looking like he so totally did not want to be there.

So, I like men's fashion. Well, maybe I just want to look put together. Of course, I wore flip-flops to work today - not sure if that qualifies as "put together." In my defense, the temperature is in the triple digits right now here in sunny, humid Arkansas. I'm sure if Robin Williams wore flip-flops in that stupid Patch Adams movie, everybody would think it was the most creative thing ever. I just get sideways glances from old grannies.

This was so not where I was going with this post. Anyway, sometimes I really would like for a stylist to take me shopping, but stylists probably don't let people shop exclusively at Wal-Mart, Old Navy, Kohls, and Target. But I'm still stylish (mostly) even if I am frugal (sort of). I will say that I thought wearing brown leather loafers, sans socks, with my seersuckers when Rachel and I were in Memphis was totally stylish and cool (of course, I had actually forgotten to pack socks, but none the less, stylish and cool).



So... getting back to the fact that I'm looking to other sources for fashion instruction (since becoming less enamored with TLC's fashion ambush). About a year ago, I happened upon a blog that I really enjoy reading, well, really I just look at the pictures. The Sartorialist, blogged by Scott Schuman, has been selected as one of Time Magazine's Top 100 Design Influencers (no, really the top of the blog says so - maybe I need to put something like that at the top of mine, hmmm). Schuman is a fashion photographer, and he started the blog, posting pics he had taken of people he saw on the streets of NYC who were "fashionable." Now, I don't 'get' all of the fashion choices in his shots, but it is an interesting blog to follow, and he's a great photographer.

All of this to say that, in anti-homage (I guess that's parody) to The Sartorialist, I'm posting my first So When Considering Fashion... entry.

On the Street - Beale Street Chic in Memphis


Her companion was overheard to have said, "Red makes me look good. I look sexy in red. Red makes me look fine. Uhh, that shirt has too much red."

9:30 Walgreen's Run (gone awry)

So.... have you ever been sitting at home on a Friday night and realized that you needed something, and Walgreen's is about to close? No, you've never experienced that? Is that because your Walgreen's is open 24 hours? I mean seriously, what's the use in having a Walgreen's if it isn't open 24 hours a day! Come on! Anyway, I needed some diet Coke, so I went to pick up a 12 pack.

That simple run for diet Coke turned into one of the weirdest combinations of impulse purchases that I've made in a while.



Let's see, diet Coke, beef jerky, Ped Egg... What??? Yes, folks, that is a Ped Egg, as seen on TV. Yeah, it's probably for girls, but my feet get calloused, and I have dry skin... Not helping my case, am I? Well, just so you know, it doesn't work quite as miraculously as the commercial claims.

I did get a man-ly can of smoked almonds - they weren't as good as the $10 ones from the hotel honor bar that I had last week.

I then picked two men's magazines, and headed to the back aisle to grab a bag of PoppyCock. I mean really, should the clerk be allowed to sell you sweet, caramelized, pecan-covered popcorn and Men's Health at the same time?

But just think of all the protein I'm getting from the beef jerky and almonds.

Happy Birthday, Rachel!

So.... today is Rachel's Birthday. Happy Birthday, Rachel! We celebrated with a quick trip to Memphis. Wednesday night, we stayed at The Madison, had dinner at Grill 83 (tiny crab cakes, corn pudding, foie gras BLT, fried quail egg - yum, yum), and spent some time up on The Madison's rooftop patio.



The evening was cool, and there was a breeze blowing. It was really nice.



On Thursday, after watching the Ducks at the Peabody and before entertaining angels (see yesterday's post), we hung out at Beale Street.

A. Schwab's is an old mercantile which sells all manner of crazy stuff, including fun hats. Rachel would try one on,



then I'd find one,



then Rachel,



then me...



Across the street is a fun little store called Strange Cargo. First Rachel found a pair of sunglasses,



then I tried a pair,



then Rachel,



then me...



Happy Birthday, Rachel! I had a great time. I hope you have a wonderful day!

The Peabody "March"

So.... I met RachelBaby in Memphis to celebrate her Birthday a few days early. We stayed at The Madison, a nice boutique hotel (more about that later), but found ourselves with two interesting experiences involving The Peabody Hotel.

Our first (and more famous) is the march of the Peabody Ducks from the rooftop, to the elevator, out of the elevator, through the hotel lobby, and into the fountain.



I had seen the march of the ducks years ago, but I had forgotten how excited people of all ages get about these ducks. People were pushing, squatting, leaning, and crawling on the floor, vying for a better vantage point. Oh, and don't think Rachel and I didn't strong arm our way past some old ladies to get our spots!




We were walking up Beale (our feet weren't even a foot off the ground, much less ten) past the touristy, cordoned off section of the street and were headed up to Main when we saw this statue of The King.
I had already snapped a shot of Rachel, when a "wanderer" offered to take our photo. We begrudgingly agreed - I was sure that he was going to run off with my camera, but he didn't. He made sure we liked the photo, and then he asked if we could help him. I said, "You took a picture - I'll give you a dollar." He said that he didn't want money - he wanted some help to feed his family. We happily told him that we'd buy him and his family some food; after I asked if he knew where a grocery store was, He replied that there was one a couple of blocks away. I encouraged him to lead the way (making sure we stayed on the main, busy streets).
As we were walking, he told us of his family and his recent problems with homelessness and unemployment (It looks like he could get work as a photographer - his picture was better than most of mine). As we drew closer to our destination, I realized that we were going to the convenience store across from the Peabody (hence our second Peabody "march" of the day). He explained that he wasn't going into the store with us because the owners would be mean to him and throw him out, "It's really bad in Memphis, especially in this part of town." I realized what he meant: they don't want panhandlers outside of the Peabody. He continued, "There's a big problem with prejudice here, rich versus poor." I replied, "Don't worry, we're not rich." (I don't think he thought I was as funny as I did).
We arrived at the store, and we asked him what items he wanted or needed. At that point he started to change his mind; "I'd rather have money for the shelter, than for you to spend your money here." I told him we would give him groceries, not cash; he hesitantly agreed, "anything you can do. " The convenience store's selection was rather limited, but we got him some food and drinks. He said his thanks and hurried off down 2nd street.

I don't know if this guy was telling us the truth or not - I hope for he and his family's sake, he was lying. I don't want to be taken advantage of, but I'd hate to miss an opportunity to meet a real need.
These situations tend to be hard ones. In Matthew 25:35, Jesus says,

"For I was hungry and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty and you gave Me something to drink."

Hebrews 13:2 reads,

"Don't neglect to show hospitality, for by doing this some have welcomed angels as guests without knowing it."

(I really like the fact that the Holman Christian Standard uses the word hospitality). Hopefully, we did what we were supposed to do in this situation.

Dear, Mr. Wanderer, whether you're a panhandler (hoping for cash), a homeless dad, an angel, or Jesus, please enjoy the Cheetos, Poptarts, and Powerade.