Warning: If you read this, you'll learn something new...

I'm a pretty open cat, if you know me. Finding a secret on me is like finding a needle made from hay in...well, you know--a haystack.

But I decided to dig deep and come up with some things that some folks may not know about me. I do this every-so-often, and figured I was due. Some of these things are quite embarrassing--but alas...

- In 2nd grade, I wanted to be a preacher when I grew up.

- I'd had a long day at school and basketball practice the day before my grandfather died--so I told my mom I'd pass on visiting him in the hospital. Doctors assured us his condition wasn't serious, and he'd be fine. No worries, I figured--I'd see him in a few days. He passed away in the middle of the night. My decision that day still bothers me sometimes.

- My first kiss was approximately 6 weeks before my 18th birthday.

- I would marry (______) today, if she let me.

- I had this High School classmate--real cool chica. I've said occasionally for years (almost always to myself) that I definitely wouldn't mind marrying a girl exactly like her someday. I can't think of anyone who knows (guessing aside) who I'm referring to.

- If I don't have a kid before December 19, 2014--I will consider myself a major disappointment.

- The first episode of SportsCenter I ever recall watching was on November 7, 1991. It remains the most memorable thing I've ever seen on ESPN. I couldn't actually find an ESPN clip--they appear to be stingy with their rights--but here's one from CNN. It's 9:56 long, but you'll get the idea very shortly.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iSfy4AhDDnw

- I did not go to my High School graduation. People insisted I'd regret it, but truth be told, I often even forget that I didn't go. My college graduation was much more important to me. I went to that one--almost entirely for my mom.

- I absolutely love Pretty Prairie, KS. There, I said it.


- I love to sing. Almost exclusively in my car. Primarily along with various country songs, but not that part's not exclusive. I'm convinced I'm pretty okay at it, too.

- I was 100% comfortable with my weight until 2005. My college basketball coach (Jones, not Trimmell--Trimmell was too busy being a good person, and winning games to ever demean his players) made several comments about it. Even resorted to cheap name-calling. To this day, I am self-conscious about my weight because of that man. I think about it at least a dozen times a day.

- I have never been in a relationship with anyone on Facebook. I've also never had a girlfriend in the summertime. Or the fall, now that I think about it. More specifically, never between June-October. Whoa...

One last one that I'm borrowing from a flick (gee, guess which one), but I always liked it, and it holds true for me, too...

- "I could be fun, if you want. I could be pensive, uhh...smart, superstitious, brave? And I, uhh--I can be light on my feet. I could be whatever you want. You just tell me what you want, and I'm gonna be that for you."

"You're dumb."

- "I could be that."

Do the right thing,
Derrick

My friend, Ashley--my other half. Not like that, though.

So my good friend Ashley moved to St. Louis [well, Ballwin], Missouri this past week. I promised I'd write a blog about her, so here goes...

Ashley Erin Hurd was born in...

Just kidding. Not that kind of blog. That'd be weird.

Ashley and I are...well, pretty different. Then again, we're exactly the same.

Let's run the stats:

She's a chick, I'm a dude.
She's black, I'm white.
She's from the city, I'm from the country.

That's where the differences end...

We're kind of the same, otherwise. I can't tell you how many movies we went to together--20, Ashley? Somewhere in there, I reckon. That was our main outlet for hanging out--going to the movies. That, and her soccer games. Man, her soccer games...

Various teammates of hers basically thought we should be married. We constantly bickered at each other (in a loving way, of course), so I guess they figured we already acted married, anyway. After the first few times, we really just did it to mess with them. Pretty funny stuff.

We have a unique relationship--where one of us will say: "I hate you," and the other just laughs. On her last day, she said something--picking on me--and I replied: "Man, I'm so glad you're leaving." We all busted out laughing.

Obviously, that wasn't true. I miss her--always will. She is a terrific person. Lots of fun. Just don't tell her I said that.

Most embarrassing moment with Ashley: Clubbing in Kansas City for her birthday--group of 10. How many white folks do you think were in the group? Yup, just me. It was all gravy, though--until we hit this one spot. You know the kind--where you're certain you'll see three or four handguns just within your peripherals, upon entry. The kind of back-alley hole in the wall that charges you $20 to get in, even though the place is no bigger than your kitchen at home. Packed to the gills, too. If you think my blood was pumping a little faster that night--you'd be correct.

**Since we somehow don't have a single picture with just the two of us...this is the best I could come do (from that night, too). All 10 of us in an elevator. Cropped the best I could, but Brian's shades--and G's forehead--still made it into the shot.**

Most important lesson learned from Ashley: White people can love Popeye's chicken, too. Which is nice, because it's pretty much--not to oversell it here--the best thing ever in life. I may never eat KFC again. KFC is like the retarded, blind little step-brother of Popeye's. Gosh darn it, he tries hard, but he just doesn't get the job done.

Most harrowing moment with Ashley: It's the 21st century. People shouldn't have an issue with mixed-race couples by now. But set a white guy and a black girl (who are 110% just friends, by the way, and always will be) on a bench in downtown Wichita, KS after midnight--you'd be surprised how many awkward looks you get. We had fun with it. That's how we are. Kind of like with her teammates--always fun to mess with people. Still, just a little ridiculous.

Most annoying moment with Ashley: I may never forgive her for making me sit through Mamma Mia. Two hours and nine bucks I'll never get back. Absolute garbage. May be the closest thing to a real fight we ever have.

Anyways, I've rambled on long enough. You get the idea. If I say much more, she might get the idea that she's actually important to me. Yuck!

Just kidding, Ashley.
I miss you.

I hope your new home suits you well, and that this finds you smiling.

Your white friend,
Derrick

A half-truth equals a whole lie.

Since my sister [hi, Rhonda] recently blogged about lying, and I seem to lack creativity lately--I will, too. Going to try to dive a little deeper into the topic of lying, rather than just bellyache about it--like most people seem to do.

I've always thought it was silly for people to ask: "Why do guys (or girls) lie?"

I have two thoughts when I hear this question...
1. There are different "reasons"--no one in particular.
2. It shouldn't matter why they lie, just that they lie. Shows character--err, lack thereof.

1. The reason I say there are many reasons is because it depends on the person, and the situation.
- Some people lie just because they can. They probably got away with it once, and they saw how easy it was for them.
- Some people lie out of guilt. They probably did something they knew was wrong, and assume the truth will hurt more, so they lie to "protect" the person they're lying to.

-The vague question of "Why do people lie?," as if the answer is roundly the same--ridiculous. Each case is different.

In my case...I don't know why I was lied to. My best guess is this...

-She wanted so badly for me to like her (at first, anyway), that she tried to be the person she thought I wanted. In fairness, she was probably lying to herself, too. But that's no better. In fact, it may be even worse than lying to me.

2. Once you know you've been lied to, things seem to crumble from there. How far back do the lies go? Where do they end?
-Example: I was blatantly ignored for months [convinced she found someone else, and decided instead of being honest, disregarding my existence all together was an easier route]. And then...

I get a 2-page text message apology out of the blue last week. It read (exactly) as follows...

"I know I am probably the last person you want to hear from, but i want to apologize. I am sorry for hurting you. You deserve so much better than me. Whoever you end up w/ is very lucky and i hope she knows that. You are an amazing guy i let slip through my fingers."

Quasi-sincere, eh? Or maybe not. My conclusion?

Doesn't matter whether it is or isn't. The motives for such an act were obviously skewed, regardless of their intent--thus not warranting a reply.

Could the text itself be a lie? Sure. Could it be heartfelt? Maybe. Though evidence points to the contrary. Regardless, for once in my life, I don't want the last word.

Several response ideas popped in my head at the time. Here are some samples:

"I wouldn't have slipped through your fingers, if you would've bothered to hold on."

"All you ever had to do was make an effort, and be honest."

"Yeah, I know."

"Liar."

But it wasn't worth it. High road, and all that jazz, you know...

It was great for a time--it really was. But was it real? I think so. But even then, my drastic efforts aside--something changed. And I'm done with it.

I'm choosing to say more...by saying nothing. I'm darn proud of that decision.

...and that's no lie.

"Always tell the truth. That way, you don't have to remember what you said." - Mark Twain

Do the right thing,
Derrick

PS--Random thought of the day: If anyone knows any girls with a voice even half as sexy as Jennifer Nettles, send her my digits. These are two of the most incredible music videos I've ever seen--and I'm a dude. Check them out--even if you've seen them before. You can almost see her soul. Amazing, I think.

Just goes to show...vulnerable can be sexy.


"Stay"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yIyxkZod2cM&feature=PlayList&p=6FBE4F77F860DCF8&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=1

"Keep You"
http://www.cmt.com/videos/sugarland/441354/keep-you.jhtml?id=1622764

This woman would be hot, even if she were ugly. But she isn't--and that's awesome. Enjoy.

You can't trade cents for sense.

Just for kicks and giggles, I decided to ponder a few things that don't make any sense to me, whatsoever...here goes:

1. Why we're taught "I before E, except after C." That's just sheer ignorance.

Just off the top of my head:

neighbor
weigh
weight
eight
sleigh
vein
veil
height
either
neither
seize
weird

I could go on, but you get the idea.

2. The phrase "after dark." The way it is used makes no sense. "After dark" is said when someone is referring to nighttime--thus making it after light.

3. "Promotional considerations provided by..." Don't get me wrong, I get it. But to me, this sounds like they're saying: "Here are some folks who thought about promoting our show, but then decided not to."

4. Disney characters Goofy and Pluto. Goofy stands, walks around--and wears clothes--just like a human. Pluto walks on all fours, and even has a collar. Um...they're both dogs. What gives?


5. Signs on dirt roads that say "Muddy When Wet." Why is that even necessary? Maybe it's a Kansas backwoods thing?

6. If you buy a CD at Wal-Mart that may have profane language, it's edited out--but you can buy guns and ammo there.

7. You can go to war and die for your country at 18, but can't drink until 21. Remember, this is coming from someone who doesn't drink, and couldn't care less about the drinking age. But still...

8. It's illegal to tape record Monday Night Football, then watch it with your friends--without expressed written consent.

9. It's against the law to rip the tag off your mattress.

10. The horrible fear of spiders. This is my most "normal" mention, but...I just don't get it, and never will. Anything that can fit under my shoe--you know, for the sake of squishing--I refuse to fear. Sorry.

Addendum: Spider bites are another story. For example, if a huge spider crawls across my face and bites me in my sleep--OK, I'll be upset, and aching, no doubt. Or if I wake up with one on my face, I'll certainly be startled. But otherwise? Eh.
+=

Couldn't think of anything significant to write, so this is what I came up with. Lame, eh? I'll write something more substantial soon. Enjoy.

Do the right thing,
Derrick

Who are you? Really...

Who are you?
What do you stand for?

"If you don't stand for something, you'll fall for anything." - attributed to many, including US Senate Chaplain Peter Marshall, Alexander Hamilton, and the more recognizable Malcolm X and Martin Luther King, Jr. Take your pick.

I stand for honorable and decent behavior towards all.
I stand up for the young and old, the big and small.
I stand when people ask if I believe in God.
I stand up for my friends, even when they're odd.

Who are you?
What are your standards?

"Aim above morality. Be not simply good, be good for something." - Henry David Thoreau

This question is pretty broad--and a matter of perception.

When it comes to actions (specifically in a prospective girl): Don't smoke...don't talk like a sailor...don't talk to me about the Yankees--seriously, I find them reprehensible, and a strong representative of all that is soulless and wrong with not only sports, but society in general...don't use the word "busy" or say things like "FML"--ever...don't talk too much in general...don't be cocky or self-absorbed...don't be...well...a hoard of other things that you can ask me about later, but should already know if you know me at all...

When it comes to ethics: Treat people right, period. Should be all I need to say, but many people don't seem get it, so here's more: Open doors for girls, whether they're 2 or 92. Talk to strangers. I've never understood why people say not to--that's terrible advice! Be a courteous driver. Give things away--even when you can't afford to...Money. Clothes. Love. Organs. You laugh; I'm serious.

Who are you?
Who do you play for?

"Mike Eruzione--Winthrop, Massachusetts...I play for...the United States of America." - Mike Eruzione, played by actor Patrick O'Brien Demsey--"Miracle"

Okay, that was corny. But sports are a big part of my life, and it's effective.

I was a Kansas Wesleyan Coyote for the only "official" time I spent as a college basketball player.
But I will always be a Bulldog at heart...
I was a McPherson College Bulldog in my collegiate days that mattered most to me. I still miss it there every day.
I grew up a Pretty Prairie Bulldog. It's in my heart--it's embedded in me.

Who are you?
What do you represent?

"I'm a better person than I was yesterday, but not as good as I will be tomorrow." - Derrick Mead

Yes, I just quoted myself.

I'm a country boy--but not a hick.
I'm a basketball player--coach, too.
I'm a writer and a prankster.
I'm confident and shy at the same time.
I'm a serious listener and a funny talker.
I'm just dumb enough to be smart--or maybe the other way around.

I want people to know me, but not really.

It's the reason I changed my major in college.

I once wanted nothing more than to be a sports commentator--preferably baseball. From ages 8-20 I dreamed about one day calling moments like this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eBJ89V7A_3c

The names Kirk Gibson and Joe Carter will always give me goosebumps just at the mere sound of them.

But ultimately, I didn't want to be that widely seen--or heard. I want to be much more discreet, but inspirational at the same time. Like maybe becoming the most successful basketball coach at a school no one has ever heard of--something like that.

It's the reason I'm a friend to all, but a stranger to many.

I'll help anyone in need. Example: I spent almost 2 hours helping a lady who should've been killed after rolling her car several times a few months back at 3 AM.

Never told her my name, though.
That's just who I am.

So tell me...

Who are you?

Do the right thing,
Derrick

Be a light--wherever you are.

I was bound and determined to write something important earlier this evening...err, yesterday by now. Then writer's block hit. Then distraction hit. But then again...

You'd be surprised how much inspiration you can find...
in a giant bowl of Crunch Berries...
at 2 AM.

Now while I still don't intend to get a whole lot written this time around, the wheels have at least begun turning. Hopefully this is a sign of things to come.

No idea what's going to come of each keystroke, or if it'll resemble anything coherent, but here goes...

I know I've talked about my best friend Amanda in numerous blogs before, but you know what--why not again?

When I think of Amanda, I think about faith. Amanda Lee Walker taught me more about Jesus in a month, than the rest of the world has taught me in over 24 years. Weird thing is, it's not like we just sat around and gabbed about God, 24/7. But I feel He speaks to me through her--my guardian angel.

There are several things I've learned about God from Amanda that I'm sure she isn't even aware of. The biggest one is this...I think we all need to reassess the ways in which we talk to God. Don't get me wrong, if you talk to God at all, I think you're doing all right. But I think we can do more...

I think too many of us (myself included) ask too much of God. We ask Him to send us answers, shower us with gifts, grant us miracles, and so on. Though I, too, am guilty of this--it seems silly to me. Why do we do this?

I think we should open our eyes and realize that in many instances in our lives, God is actually asking us questions. Maybe this seems crazy to you. True, God knows what we will do, and what we will go through...but I also feel that he presents us with opportunities all throughout our days, as if to say: "What do you want to do?" Options, or paths, if you will.

I think that's where free will comes into play. Even Amanda once wrote: "...I gave up trying to understand that whole subject." Well you know what? If she doesn't understand it, I certainly never will, either--and that's okay by me.

I don't really have a solution to offer here, just one piece of advice that I'll try to better follow, myself: When you talk to God, do not just talk--speak. Thank Him for the blessings you have in your life, rather than always just asking for additional blessings. Now that's not to say it's not okay to pray for miracles, healing, etc. But you know, just saying.

I'll just end this by saying thank you.

Thank you, Lord--for everything and everyone you've blessed me with in my life.
Thank you, Amanda--for teaching me about faith and Jesus. And faith in Jesus.

You saved me.

...and every time a light flickers, I still think of you. That will never change. Thanks for being my best friend.

Be a light--wherever you are,
Derrick

Social networking be damned...

Well, it's happened.

The time has finally come when I am not able to write openly about just anything. Like it or not, I must consider any and all potential readers, and any potential ramifications that my ramblings might have. This is weird to me.

I love sharing my nonsense with any of my friends who wish to indulge themselves, and not only get lost in my nonsense, but conjure up some of their own, as well. And because of the often wonderful, if not distracting world that is social networking, I can do so anytime I darned well please. That's pretty neat.

That being said, it's becoming evident to me that I must now consider my audience. Generally speaking, I can talk about whatever I want, I suppose. Whether it be my seemingly hot-and-cold trivial sports jargon, the occasional pop culture jab, or any of my other overly-opinionated hooey (according to the masses, I imagine), I can write whatever I want...or so I once thought.

I cannot write about one particular topic that occasionally pulls at my core--due to one of my Facebook friends who happens to be a relative (err, sort of). Even the mere raising of a particular topic, if seen, could be disastrous. Ironically, this particular topic was at hand in what I still feel is my best piece of writing ever--a MySpace blog from August 12, 2008. It's still posted there, if anyone is overly curious--the relative at hand isn't on there, to my knowledge--so it's safe where it is (for now).

Another topic exists which affects me greatly--even I can never quite decide just how much--has become extremely taboo, especially given the depths in which I could explore within said topic. This saddens me a little. Sometimes more than a little.

All of these restrictions put in place, in large part, by social networking.

If only folks like Mark Zuckerberg and Tom Anderson weren't so innovative, I wouldn't be in this predicament, right? Wrong. If only I were more innovative, I'd be able to more adeptly maneuver my way out of this mess, I reckon.

Curious thing about all this is--I have absolutely no qualms discussing anything in life--most people know this about me by now. It's just gotten to the point where I can't be 100% open about certain things, where it can be seen by all.

While I'm fully aware that I'm not a writer per se, I do enjoy writing, without a doubt. I often enjoy using it as an outlet to delve into personal topics--both my own, and those of others. It allows us all to open our eyes, our hearts, minds, and souls and let others in. I love it, I really do. But the concept of not being able to share whatever I want with whoever I want--however I want to do it--bugs me a little.

I'll probably work my way around it, in time. Just something on my mind in my quasi-triumphant return to Blogger, which I intend, as of now, to use as my future writing source. I'll try it out this time, while posting/sharing a link via--you guessed it, Facebook.



Ah, the wonderful world we live in...

Do the right thing,
Derrick