Yeah, I Voted.

Yeah, I voted Monday.

When I drove to New Life Church of Bryant to cast my ballot, I thought about all who gave so much for me to push buttons to select the men and women whom I feel would be most effective leading us for the next few years.

I thought about my grandpa when he ran for mayor of Gould twenty years ago.

I thought about the people who decided their voices didn't matter two years ago.

I thought about the current leaders who have hosed our communities thinking of me instead of we.

Honestly, I had a case of anti-incumbent fever going on just as America experienced in 2010. I cannot say for certain that the resistance, or blue wave as it has recently been termed, will be enough to offset the rise of the Tea Party eight years ago. Instead of outright racism in response to the nation’s first Black President – try telling some of these people Barack Obama is biracial and notice the plugged-in ears and incoherent babbles from their echo chambers and propaganda station Fox News telling them how to think about the changing world at large. Here are my voting choices, explained:

For the honor of representing AR-2 in Congress, I went for Clarke Tucker. In an era of throwing shade at all costs AND before that blatantly racist ad for the incumbent Rep. French Hill, it is refreshing to see my generation stepping up and otherwise maintaining an upbeat campaign throughout. I’m sure Rep. Hill is a pretty nice guy, but he should’ve been more than a lackey for 45 as a key vote to repeal the PPACA and more accessible to the most diverse and best-educated district in the state. I’m not saying he should have made more appearances in Southwest or south of Interstate 630, but giving a damn about the less affluent in more than a few crafted words would have been a start.

To become our next governor, my vote went to Jared Henderson. I see much of the same charismatic demeanor as Rep. Tucker and for standing up for the public sector – which hopefully gets the hardest-working among us deserved raises. Gov. Asa Hutchinson truly loves Arkansas and did an admirable thing in separating the Martin Luther King, Jr. and Robert E. Lee birthdays as joint state holidays, the token measure falls flat when considered the disadvantaged who have lost their health insurance due to work requirements, shoddy (if available, at all) internet service, and not completely being able to keep the state Legislature from reverting to 1956 or worse, 1836.

My vote for Anthony Bland over Lt. Gov. Tim Griffin is simple:  I will always vote for the black man assuming his values align with my own. Besides, didn’t Griffin say he would abolish the office when he ran for it in 2014?

In the campaign for Attorney General, I voted for Mike Lee instead of Trump stooge Atty. General Leslie Rutledge. One thing she should have done is give more of a damn about her constituents instead of chasing every frivolous lawsuit she can attach herself to in the quest of wasting the most taxpayer dollars. The old emails about her anti-black comments and stereotypical jargon, although unsurprising given the state of today’s political climate alone did not sway my decision as much as her portrayal of a female George Wallace standing in the way of legalized gay marriage thereby presenting the state as a band of Luddites.

In the state campaign I paid the least attention to, I selected Susan Inman over the current Commissioner of State Lands John Thurston for Secretary of State. Certainly, I am overjoyed that current Secretary of State Mark Martin (not the NASCAR legend -  he’s presumably enjoying retirement fishing and running his auto dealerships in Batesville and the surrounding areas) is term-limited from dragging the Natural State back in time any further. Aside from the boat and fishing controversy surrounding Thurston, I felt a fresh voice would be necessary; that Garland County (Hot Springs and the small towns that comprise the GOP-stronghold) left her name off the ballot at three of the four early-voting precincts is appalling.

As for state Treasurer and Auditor, I held my nose and crossed over to vote for Dennis Milligan and Andrea Lea. Because I do live in Saline County, I am familiar enough with Milligan to make the reluctant call to send him back for four more years. In addition, in a period where no news can be equated as good news, Lea deserves more time to do the fiscal balancing around here; the Arkansas state constitution requires a balanced budget contrary to what several of our legislators statewide in both major parties tend to think.

For Commissioner of State Lands, I went full outsider and voted for Larry Williams.

To become Associate Justice of the Arkansas Supreme Court, Courtney Goodson was as close to a no-brainer as one can get on the ballot especially with challenger David Sterling positioning himself as a conservative who stands with President Trump. It is one thing to respect the office of the President of the United States of America, and another to rubber-stamp everything the current occupant says including the blatant falsehoods without any sense of decorum.

Closer to home...yep, Salt County.

Having a disparate population means reaching out to everyone versus a select few from the country club, the local Baptist church, or the newest all-you-can-eat buffet. In this regard, I voted for Melissa Fults instead of Rep. Kim Hammer for state Senate; his comments about the Lady Razorbacks basketball team kneeling during the playing of the National Anthem struck enough of a nerve to make me wonder what brand of Gospel he preaches to his congregants each Sunday morning. Protesting is as American as apple pie – or from what I gathered in his words, only for a certain class. On a more spiritual level, let me remind everyone that Jesus was a radical nonviolent revolutionary who hung around lepers, hookers, and crooks; who wasn’t American and didn’t speak English; was anti-wealth; anti-death penalty; anti-public prayer (see Matthew 6:5 about those who used flowery language and really said nothing); but was never anti-gay; never mentioned abortion or birth control; never called the poor lazy; never justified torture; never fought for tax cuts nor demanded fealty to a piece of cloth. What I said about Hammer can easily apply to more of the boisterous voices in the state Legislature (you know the ones – there is that thirsty one from back home that tried to come for me eighteen months ago yet was unprepared for the truth to smack him around the head, among others).

Myka Bono Sample got my vote only because she ran unopposed. I reckon she’s done a good-enough job as County Clerk to earn another term from the people.

In town, I chose to give Mayor Jill Dabbs another four years as Bryant’s cheerleader. For the posturing with state and national politics that she reflexively does and the less-than-satisfactory response to the neighborhoods flooding and water problems, I do like the direction Bryant is growing. If Springhill Road is ever widened to at least a constant turning lane with sidewalks from Highway 5 to Northlake, she’ll have my vote for life. Allen Scott, while engaging in the Sunday meetups at the parks throughout town, seemed to me like he was less of a checks-and-balances toward Dabbs than someone with an axe to grind.

I had more anti-incumbent fever in choosing Bob Joiner for City Clerk over the current officeholder Sue Ashcraft.

Those pesky issues…

Fortunately, Issues One and Three were thrown off the ballot; therefore, human lives do have a monetary value for the time being although we should live as we are truly irreplaceable, and regarding Issue Three, politicians/future lobbyists shall be changed frequently like dirty diapers to prevent corruption or the perception that representing the people with benefits is why they want to run back to Little Rock. What I find interesting about Issue Three is that the same folks who rail against the majority-minority capital city clamor to be sent down to speak up for the forgotten and denigrate the Rock at every single turn in the name of likes on social media even as their own records show nothing of real substance.

I voted against Issue Two for the sole reason of requiring a photo ID for absentee voting, but I could very well regret this vote depending on how it worded in a manner that allows citizens to obtain identification cards at no cost. I’m all for inclusion; the other question arises from who counts the ballots as they show up at the precinct.

Voting against Issue Four is a tough call:  On one hand, we do need the jobs and the revenue; on the other, I do not gamble, and the two locations selected (two miles outside of Russellville and Pine Bluff, respectively) may lead to other problems not limited to law enforcement and those of a social nature.

I voted for Issue Five which raises the minimum wage to $9.25 on January 1, 2019, $10 the following year, and cresting at $11 on January 1, 2021. Minimum wage should not be a living wage but a gateway for those entering the workforce for the very first time or in a long time; anyone who is against that cannot afford to keep the doors open to his or her business. It’s also why Dub Shack BBQ is presently a one-man band:  me. After food costs and time, I still must be able to live and care for my family versus merely existing to provide customers with great barbecue every day only to subsist on Ramen noodles and crackers.

In declining to vote for Issue Six, I made this decision not based on the (perceived) lack of opportunities here in Saline County as much as the fact of increased property and sales taxes. While assessments are a necessary evil and a vital part of paying for things the public uses such as roads, sewer, water, and in some cases, electricity, at which point can a homeowner ask for some relief? What have our leaders been doing with the tax dollars accrued over time besides whoring themselves to medium-to-large businesses with giveaways that only a handful of people could potentially benefit from?

Lastly, I voted against Issue Seven for the reason of why would I reward my council member with two more years to sit around, do nothing, and be otherwise evasive? I understand that two-year terms can lead to constant campaigning but until I see better by the Bryant City Council, then each member needs to remain in service for two years until the city can justify four-year terms with one of two metrics:  a) population size; and b) annual revenue.

Every election is more important than the previous one, and each has perks for the winners and consequences for the losers. While our method of democracy is modeled worldwide, it still has flaws (see Voter ID laws across the country) and dark money entering campaigns to muddy the truth courtesy of Citizens United. We must find a way to suss out the fluff now that even the media no longer tells a straightforward story; too often, we are enthralled or disgusted by entertainers, talk show hosts, and others deciding their own truths and that inevitably colors how we operate on this rock. Each of us has a concern worth fighting for – and all of you who really know me, that concern is #BlackLivesMatter. Having my wife and daughter to protect and love in a society that tries its best to marginalize black females regarding pay, intellect, appearance, etc. is paramount to not only my own manhood but also to our daughter’s self-confidence in a world that gladly tears people down with impunity. I would also like to come home at the end of each shift without being harassed or worse a gunshot wound thanks to a small-town police officer with a trigger finger and serious animus toward my skin.

Whatever your reason, get up and go vote! Your life and freedoms may very well depend upon this simple act.

About Grandpa:  He lost that race in 1998 by twenty points but he at least he threw his hat in the ring to make Gould, Arkansas a better place to live.

How to Protest Without Offending White People

How to Protest Without Offending White People
Michael Harriot

Many people were surprised when President Donald Trump suggested that NFL team owners fire players who quietly choose to sit out the national anthem before games, but I was not one of them.

Even though they thought they’d solved the anthem problem by blackballing protest starter Colin Kaepernick, the residual insolence displayed by the players roiled white people to no end because their protest was so disrespectful—not to a 250-year-old cloth logo or a Francis Scott Key bar song. Taking a knee is disrespectful to whiteness. It is not that white people can’t understand Kaepernick’s point of view; it’s that—to them—any other point of view is nonexistent.

For future reference, we have put together this handy-dandy checklist for designing a protest that white people will find inoffensive and respectable.

Don’t Say “White”

I have no idea why, but white people hate it when anyone uses the phrase “white people,” because, for some reason, they consider it a pejorative. When protesting police brutality, education inequality, unfair housing practices or anything else, you must be careful not to “make it all about race”—even if the thing you’re protesting is all about race.

Refer to racism as a “social issue.” Instead of slinging the phrase “white supremacy” around all willy-nilly, you can instead refer to it as “structural inequality.” If your “underprivileged” child has been fenced into a poorly funded educational system, call it an “inner-city school.”

Uttering the words “white people” only serves as a reminder of their historic ties to oppression, which can only be negated by their instinctual regurgitation of the preamble to all white excuses: “Not all white people ... ” Even if you make your protest about a “societal issue” that’s not about race, you still shouldn’t expect them to join in or approve. They already heard you say “white people.”

Don’t Say “Black”

When protesting, you must not only refrain from lumping Caucasians together, but you must also be careful not to remind them of your blackness. Again, the word conjures the imagery of oppression and makes everything about race.

Plus, it is divisive. Any mention of race is divisive because it overlooks the fact that every color and creed has problems. Some people have to worry about the leader of the free world trying to deport their children, vilifying their religion or referring to their mothers as bitches, while others have to live with the terrible burden of people constantly belittling their chicken seasoning and potato-salad-making.  We all have a struggle.

Be Inclusive

If there is one thing white people outer-city people hate, it’s being left out. If you watch the nation unite in empathy and mourning for the single Caucasian victim of white supremacy, while ignoring the fact that the same supremacists have terrorized people of color for more than a century; when you see Justine Damond’s death change the leadership of an entire police force while streets run red with black blood spilled by acquitted police officers, you still shouldn’t say, “Black lives matter.”

Even if there has never been a nanosecond in the long history of America during which anyone questioned the worth of white lives, you must still include them. You should also be inclusive enough to make up an entirely new category of human being and announce that blue lives matter, too.
Unless you hate cops ...
... and smurfs.

Be Invisible

White people The average American doesn’t mind protest ... as long as he or she can’t see it. You absolutely have the constitutional right to feel a little morose whenever your son, neighbor or fellow citizen is shot, choked, beaten or discriminated against—as long as you don’t obstruct the weekend Caucasian commute to the mall to purchase yoga pants. Why should they have to think about the disproportionate, continual murder of black people when they’re trying to get half-price cargo shorts at the Gap? That’s just un-American.

You can object to inequality as much as you’d like, as long as it isn’t at sporting events. No one wants to think about politics at sporting events. Or at political rallies. Or inaugurations. Or on social media. Or at schools. Or at actual protests.
Everywhere else is fine.

Be Respectful

If you miraculously find a place to protest, find an inoffensive phrase and include people from all groups, you should still be mindful that there is a list of things that white people the overprivileged value more than your life, freedom, equality or happiness. Your civil disobedience must not offend or disparage any of the following: flags that represent America, flags that represent traitors to America, monuments, names of buildings, statues, stained-glass windows, cats, American flags, 150-year-old songs, freedom of speech (but only their freedom of speech, not yours), bathrooms, dogs, the children (not children, but “the children”), the Founding Fathers, first responders, blue lives, religious freedom (Christian only), traffic and troops.

Especially troops. Wypipo love troops. They can watch a cop shoot an unarmed person in the head and see the brain matter splatter on his or her baby in the back seat and feel no empathy, but burst into tears when someone shows them a clip of a dog licking a soldier’s face when he comes home from killing brown people somewhere in the world protecting their freedom.

In fact, if you wrap a puppy in an American flag and put it on top of a pumpkin-spice gift certificate to Starbucks and tell a white woman you’re giving it to a soldier, she will spontaneously orgasm.

Real talk.*
*I don’t actually know what “real talk” means, but I know that—according to Section 3, paragraph 5 of the Uniform Negro Code—affixing “real talk” to the end of a sentence automatically makes it true.

Be Dead

One of the surest ways to engender respect from white people the unmelanated is to die. If you don’t feel like dying and have white-enough teeth, you can alternately outlive their vitriol and wait for them to embrace you.

Muhammad Ali was considered a traitor when he stood up for his rights and refused to fight in Vietnam. Tommie Smith and John Carlos were vilified. Gallup polling recounts Martin Luther King Jr.’s favorability this way:

In 1963, King had a 41 percent positive and a 37 percent negative rating; in 1964, it was 43 percent positive and 39 percent negative; in 1965, his rating was 45 percent positive and 45 percent negative; and in 1966—the last Gallup measure of King using this scalometer procedure—it was 32 percent positive and 63 percent negative.
Five months before the March on Washington, 60 percent of the country had a negative view of the event and 57 percent thought that peaceful sit-ins hurt the civil rights movement. Even a year later, in 1964, 73 percent of Americans believed “Negroes should stop mass demonstrations,” according to Gallup.

Never Forget that Martin Luther King Jr. was Hated by White America

There has never been a movement for the freedom or equality of people of color that has gained white approval. Not the abolitionist movement. Not the anti-lynching movement. Not the Black Power movement. Not the civil rights struggle.

Looking for respectability and approval from white people will always be as fruitless a task as a chicken’s attempt to convince a fox to respect the boundaries of the henhouse.

In fact, historical, anecdotal and empirical evidence shows that there is only one way to protest without offending white people:

Don’t.

Won't He Do It

Testimony hour: Ten years ago tomorrow, my brother and I (should've been) brought back home to God. We were driving to Jonesboro to drop Alan off at ASU and just shooting the breeze,  otherwise being brothers. In the 2.5 hour trip, we often talked about everything - life, school, women, stuff happening at the church, etc.  This time around, it was raining constantly, so we left home early to allow time to get there. About eight miles outside of Searcy, the car hydroplaned across US 67, sending us across the highway. As we spun around seven times like a kid with a Hot Wheel, we prayed and screamed for our lives because that could've been it. By His grace, enough cars and semis managed to avoid us and we were able to cross back over and continue the trip albeit two harried men. This is a significant reason why I've said #weallwegot over the years.

As I near that anniversary, I thank God He kept us around to see all we have seen: our wives Chastity and Nastassia, a child (my nephew),  graduation, and a host of many things too numerous to list. I can't imagine what our parents' reactions if we didn't make it home that Labor Day. I know it wasn't anything but Jesus that saved us!

You Like That?!

Current Minnesota Vikings starter Kirk Cousins went through a crushing onslaught of fan and media criticism in addition to multiple votes of no-confidence from his former team’s ownership and front office in the form of franchise tags instead of having the ability to negotiate a new deal or an extension as is customary for most starting NFL quarterbacks. After one comeback win for the Washington Redskins in 2015, Cousins yelled, “You like that?!” to CSN Mid-Atlantic reporter Tarik El-Bashir lending the saying to become the team’s rallying cry for the remainder of the season.

Kirk Cousins Washington Redskins Quarterback Yells 'You Like That,' to R... https://t.co/lKZiUnMYPM via @YouTube

— A. Cedric Armstrong (@cedteaches) August 31, 2018

It sounds like a good time until we find ourselves caught up in seeking the attention and becoming too craven to shy away from it.

How do we know this? 

By looking at our smartphones and acknowledging that we too, have become encapsulated by our social media accounts. People participate in challenges on YouTube and Snap to generate likes on Facebook and Instagram or more Twitter followers and reposts on Pinterest; I’m not above the fray here or even in this blog as I point out stuff that I have done and to an extent, am still doing. These posts aren’t just because I have steam to blow off or due to becoming an authority of some things as much as I genuinely enjoy the feedback and pats on the back for roughly seven hundred words from my mind and keystrokes to the rest of the world to read, parse, discuss, or dismiss.

This is akin to looking for love in all the wrong places. You like that?!

Jesus teaches us in Matthew 6 how to give Him praise – and it is not some superfluous prayer that references the 42-generational lineage of Christ and gets the church mothers swooning all over the front pews on Communion Sunday. In my own guilt from sounding like I wanted to be seen during devotional and praise service as opposed to giving an authentic conversation with the ensuing backslaps of a job well done, it sometimes feels like I indeed have missed the mark with the overly enunciated tongue thereby leading me to recognize that my own words in their own symbolism are slanted toward the approval of man in contrast to the true glorification of our Lord and Savior.

When you do it wrong, you end up like Maximus from Gladiator. ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?

How do I kill that internal rallying cry?

Writer John Piper had an idea, found in his book What Jesus Demands from the World. Self-denial and fixation of the self are essential, but O how easy it is to be made much of even my own self-denial! How shall this insidious motive of pleasure in being made much of be broken except through bending of my faculties to delight in the pleasures of making much of God! Christian Hedonism is the only solution. It is deeper in death to self. You must go deeper into the grave of the flesh to find the truly freeing stream of miracle water that ravishes you with the taste of God’s glory. Only in that speechless, all-satisfying admiration is the end of self. (What Jesus Demands, 136-137)

Only Jesus is the true Living Water and in Him, we shall never thirst. Only by centering ourselves into wanting Christ and the approval of God will our self-flagellation for human approval will be broken. The Spirit helps us in our weaknesses and enables us to do the impossible:  to say no to ungodliness and open our eyes to see the glory of God in the face of Christ. In this concept, we can influence more souls via our platform unlike by merely being a do-gooder.

Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.
Matthew 5:16 KJVhttps://t.co/sidt7qMa7g

— A. Cedric Armstrong (@cedteaches) August 31, 2018

It is only when we renounce our selfish desires and exalt Christ that we truly become free from condemnation (Romans 8:1), fully satisfied in Christ (Psalm 16:11) and free to yell, You like that?! sans consequence for the good of our neighbor and the glory of God.

Taking Ls From Spiders

My wife is terrified of spiders to the extent that she inadvertently began the “Kiki Challenge” from the Drake video a couple of years ahead of time! If you’re not aware of it, this is when Drake gets out of the moving car and dances alongside it; NHTSA recently discouraged the practice for the obvious danger. We were returning home from a doctor’s appointment one morning in her car when a spider had found itself walking across the windshield looking for a way out. Seeing it, I had taken a swing at the spider from the passenger seat and missed leading for the insect to crawl from the driver’s side where I couldn’t end it. As she drove up the recently opened interstate ramp, my wife’s eyes got really big and she unlatched the seatbelt as her attempt to escape its clutches. Fortunately for both of us, she slowed the car down to a stop just off the far-right lane for me to execute the critter.  To many people, a harmless spider that happened to fall in thanks to an upward tilted moonroof was just a wayward creature; however, I was entrusted to eliminate the fear.

Did I yell ‘Westside’ after killing the spider? You better believe I did!

Me killing spiders at home pic.twitter.com/l3xtRgJ6s1

— A. Cedric Armstrong (@cedteaches) July 30, 2018

In Matthew 7, Jesus teaches that we should bring our needs to God, trusting Him with our requests. To illustrate this example, give verses 7-11 a read below:

7 Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you;

8 For every one that asketh receiveth, and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.

9 Or what man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone?

10 Or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent?

11 If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?

For loving parents, the answer is obvious. But Jesus answers anyway, challenging us to not lose faith in our Father’s generous goodness. I cannot imagine loving my daughter any more than the present moment yet Jesus assures me that even the best earthly parent’s love is eclipsed by God’s love for us.

Whether we pop trunk on spiders that made a wrong turn or find ourselves facing shutoff notices from the utility companies, we can rely on the Father for all of our needs.

It's A Family Affair

With a lot of help from the family, we celebrated my parents’ 40^th wedding anniversary last Sunday afternoon. I’ve texted those who showed up my gratitude for coming together on short notice since I was unsure of my own work schedule; as a result, I chose to limit the celebration to in-state relatives. You know, most people can reach Conway within three hours from almost any direction including my own forty-five drive from Bryant. If anyone took pictures, please feel free to share them in the comments section as I recollect moments from a few days (or decades) ago:

1.     God has definitely kept Dad and Mom together through thick and thin.

2.     Without them, I wouldn’t have turned out the way I am today (I was inside Mama’s tummy when they had gotten married back in ‘78).

3.     Next July will also mark them living in Friendship forty years in the little house (once white, now yellow) in the curve. For the first eighteen years, it was the only place I knew as home – and that 882 sq. ft. space contained more life lessons, memories, Star Trek marathons, etc. than many of you would ever know.

4.     Depending on the sport, Mom or Dad would serve as de facto referees in backyard basketball or football; when we were younger, they would get out in the driveway for foot races. No comment on who walked who down during the era of the elementary school track meets.

5.      Glad Alan threw down some burgers and green beans on the grill. Saline County knows about my work but my brother is not one to be slept on.

6.     When strapping down all equipment, it is best to put the loose stuff – including aluminum trays – in the vehicle: I now have to buy a aluminum table for my PK Classic grill.

7.     Huge shout out to Chastity for cooking most of the sides and picking up the drinks. Otherwise, we’d all be lined up at the garden hose drinking water if not fighting over pot liquor again.

8.     Reneging in spades is a felony punishable by banishment from the table.

9.     That being said, never trust Leah when she says “I got a couple” of books.

10.                        Peach cobbler and or Jaimie’s cheesecake could very well prevent wars – neither of which came from the box.

11.                        With hungry eyes in the living room and wife on the way back from the store, Deacon Armstrong had to pray to the point.

12.                        Speaking of #11, thanks to our Mount Zion Missionary Baptist Church family of Benton for understanding the greater need to celebrate black love over another church anniversary. Our cookout was awesome – and we cooked the right amount of food for everyone!

13.                        For probably the same reason no one recognized the Dub Shack work truck (my Ram), it was strange seeing Uncle Kent pull up in something domestic.

14.                        I wish Ryan aka Boogie and Caeli had other kids to play with for more than an hour.

15.                        For once, Dad was catered to instead of running from pit to house. 

16.                        There was a sighting of Nacole! I tried to send some Dub Shack BBQ back with her but she was too stuffed to even try the product. However, we have an open invitation to seeing Tampa one of these days – and since Disney World in Orlando is roughly ninety minutes away, it could very well happen. After all, she is 1) the girl next door and 2) eleven weeks younger than me. Nevertheless, it was good seeing my childhood friend.

17.                        24 lbs. of pulled pork went away quickly!

18.                        BBQ Becky would’ve been sick seeing us.

19.                        The sleep fairy is still undefeated as evidenced by the people who fell asleep on the couch and in chairs.

20.                        Dad and Mom have been the crash pad for traveling family members – the ones from Kansas and even for a pair of UCA undergraduates.

21.                        From their union came my brother and me; now we have our own families to shepherd in addition to two grandchildren to adore in Aston and Caeli.

22.                        No one fought over the greens’ pot liquor this time.

23.                        You weren’t pitting them against one another as some children do (or try to) with their parents.

24.                        In all of her irreverence, aunt Ann is as blunt as ever.

25.                        Once again, relatives got lost in town; hey, this is par for the course when coming to Conway. Remember I got lost coming home for the class reunion last year and although it is easier to manage each trip, Exit 124 is still a new phenomenon.

26.                        The aforementioned exit also cuts my travel time from house to interstate down to 1 ½ miles:  the half-mile to Friendship Road, and the other mile to the house: Popeyes Chicken has officially become a special trip to town.

27.                        The family that prays and plays together stays together.

28.                        THOSE EPIC KICKBALL GAMES.

29.                        One downside of being in the same place for so long is seeing the gentrification of my ‘hood. In 1979, the roads were dirt; today, all is paved (has been since the 80s – Judge Carter made certain of that) and there is now a wedding chapel tucked away from what was once a dumping grounds. If the city tries to annex, then I’m done.

30.                        On their refrigerator is the same scripture that I now try to live by at home:  Joshua 24:15. If you don’t know it, read the italicized text. Choose ye this whom ye will serve but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.

All in all, what a grand time indeed! It’s not every day couples make it to forty years of marriage, so giving Dad and Mom their flowers while they can smell them is the least we can do. Thanks to everyone who came out for the cookout!

Postscript to the Dad Chronicles

Throughout the past three years or so of Caeli’s life, many of you have reached out to me at one point or another saying how much they enjoyed reading the Dad Chronicles and for some of you, I saw a bit of disappointment in your faces when I told you I was closing the series permanently last November. Those of you who did keep up with the three of us caught a much deeper insight into our lives than I normally would have divulged, and for that reason alone it was time to end the procession; it didn’t exactly help that I was emotionally worn out from sharing the story time and time again. Was it the anticipation from providing updates every Monday for those precarious five-and-a-half months in the NICU that did it for me, or the best way I could channel my thoughts and feelings through that season?

For the past sixteen months or so, I’ve done less blogging and more living; for that, I am eternally grateful to my immediate family specifically Chastity and Caeli for letting me hang out around them as much as I have in the past year.

I know I told our family friends Will and Misty that I was going to stop writing last year when we were in Helena for the opening of the Freeman Playground, and aside from the last obligatory Prematurity Awareness Day post from November 17, it has been easy enough to leave well enough alone. I still send pictures to a handful of the remaining inner circle throughout the year but that is pretty much it.

Wonder Woman is my inspiration to build a legacy. In addition to being remembered as a good dude and better Daddy, I hope to leave Caeli something tangible that she can see and successfully own in a world that seemingly values people less and less. She knows every day is a GREAT day for barbecue, and so should the rest of you. 

But seriously…I’ve been working on my small business venture that hopefully one day soon replaces my Rineco (now Heritage) income and gives me something I haven’t had since 2003:  a daytime role that puts me at home at night. Currently, Dub Shack BBQ is strictly a catering- and box lunches- type of outfit; I’m just not prepared for a storefront at this time yet each time I’ve taken off from work this year has made my eventual return to the graveyard shift more difficult. Then there is the church and all its obligations; congregants kind of like seeing me regularly even if my work schedule isn’t exactly conducive to having a real participatory role in growth and of course, changing the culture to a more inclusive, Christ-driven and -centered one via divorcing ourselves from the multigenerational pettiness passed down from one to the following a la the Israelites in Moses’s day. In the year since my ordination, there are times when I do feel like I am more of do-gooder than a do-GREATER; combine that with the fluffernutter (the former New Englander in me just came out. Oops) and I’ve had periods of doubt and quietly wondering if entering the diaconate was the right call. More of that in a future post.

We’ll still fight as advocates for premature babies and the developmental schools they need to reach their full potential. After all that our daughter has endured in addition to the friends she’s made, leaving for big school – Collegeville Elementary – in a few years is going to require a serious readjustment on my part. What is certain at this point in my life is that I will NOT return to the classroom in a fulltime, certified capacity because I don’t want to ever want to feel the hopelessness of career burnout again. That I had worked so hard to become in my words ‘a damn good English teacher and molder of minds’ to chunk the deuces toward my undergraduate labor with impunity perhaps showed me that my own happiness should’ve superseded paying the bills once my cushion was comfortable enough for a good night’s sleep instead of thinking I could save the world and sidestep district politics.

All in all, and sorry for the misdirected rants, thank you for reading the Dad Chronicles over the years and keeping up with AD&AD. In the future, there may be a podcast (Aaron, Rickey or Lauren, I’m looking at one of you although anyone with a decent setup who wants to chew the fat online would suffice). Editing days tend to really suck from a blogger’s perspective and somehow, I’m sadistic enough to welcome the challenge of lending my voice and opinions to a different medium.

Y’all stay woke; I’m staying #CaeliStrong!