So with everyone on FB, I decided to check out Myspace again. Soooooo...anyone still here?

OK...

So, Myspace sabotaged my link, so here you go.

I love all of you Myspacers, but with Facebook and Twitter working my social bug and Blogger meeting my writing fix, I am hanging elsewhere.

I am not canceling my account, but just won't be around here much.

I will be blogging at www.theamazingrobblog.blogspot.com
I Twitter at @robalderman
I Facebook as well.

See you around!

Rob

Word up.

I know blog here: www.theamazingrobblog.blogspot.com

Thanks,

The Wayward Saint

To the faithful underground...

I have decided to disconnect from Myspace.

I may be around a bit to read my Wife's blog. I'm also very fond of Doug's blog, Jenny Orr's blog and Ethan Key's blog (which he only writes every 6 months or so). There are a few others, like Summer's.

So this isn't goodbye. I'll still be visiting.

But I won't be writing here if I can help it. I've tried in the past, and moving my blog elsewhere was a disaster. Still, I just simply don't like blogging on Myspace. I prefer my BLOGSPOT.

So, i'm gonna try writing there. I hope that those of you who really like to read this blog will keep reading me on BLOGSPOT. I really do value your insight into my little world.

Thanks for your understanding.

Saint Rob of the Wayward

Scarred But Smarter

(Note: It’s a long one. Buckle in or don’t. I don’t really care one way or the other, I promise. You aren’t offending me if you don’t want to read all this. I mean, what is my deal?)

If it’s all true…the only time you fail is the last time you try…If I concede defeat, will I be complete in my failure. Am I incomplete and a complete failure?

Tonight I spent some time in my attic. We are trying to get the house ready to sell, and seeing as how it’s already on the market, it makes sense to get it done.

Cleaning out your attic is an interesting experiment. Boxes upon boxes, most of them left unopened for 5 years or more sat in the dust. I waded in and began opening them. Soon, we were tossing what we didn’t want to keep and keeping the precious things.
Now, most of what I found was junk. For the most part, there was no good reason to have any of it.

But every once in a while I would find a box that would make me laugh in delight. Like the box of old Bigger Than Dallas photos of our first gigs…University and Coffee shop shows where we are much thinner and rockstar looking.  Nathan Johnson on drums and Travis Cutshaw on guitar. Davis, of course, on bass. Typical Sloan photos from college…man, I’ve put on weight.

Box upon box was opened, until I reached the back of the attic. That’s when I found it. An old milk crate filled with my old cd’s. This is an unbelievable treasure. The contents were too numerous to mention all of them, but here are the highlights: Nearly my entire collection of Matthew Sweet cds, including all the rare imports and singles. Early Aaron Sprinkle cds. Michael Penn’s first cd. (if you haven’t noticed, I used to have a thing for power-pop.) And the greatest find of them all…In a different cd case I found a perfect condition cd of Model Engines little known album, The Lean Years Tradition. Holy crap.

Disconcerted after the last of the great you and I disasters. I’m spent. I’m done…being broken. Tossing in the towel. Wash my hands and cut my teeth. Penned an ode to my Belle Dame Sans Merci.

If you have never heard this album, I feel sorry for you.

That may seem dramatic, but I promise it’s completely true. It is an absolute masterpiece and without a doubt, the greatest “Christian” record ever made. The greatest and last of a short-lived movement within the faith during the mid-90’s that said, “What the hell. I know we’re Christian, but let’s actually try to write songs that matter.”

This was, I think, most disconcerting to the rest of the “Christian Music Industry” who were busy churning out absolute crap. Unfortunately, as is often the case, the war between the two were short lived, and bands like Dime Store Prophets, Dryve, Poor Old Lu, The Prayer Chain and the greatest of them all, Black Eyed Sceva , fell to those making inferior music.

For a brief shining moment, I was a part of that group of people. One mindset: Change the world through rock and roll. Start with saving the Christians.

To this day, “The Lean Years Tradition” remains that movement’s most important voice. Black Eyed Sceva, having gotten sick of people mispronouncing their name, changed it to Model Engine and recorded a blistering parting-shot, wringing the state of the industry and the human soul from their instruments. Lead singer Jeremy Post opens a vein and bleeds all over the record. The title track hurts me every time I hear it, and that’s how it should be. After all, we do revel in pain, don’t we? And where better to get a big, steaming pile of misery than Christianity. Did our savior not suffer the most? Beauty from tragedy.


And it’s all true. The Flesh was weak and the spirit was too. You should know; The wool you pulled down on your faithful martyr was blazoned- “Scarred but smarter.”

After working in the attic, I tried to go to bed, but I began to become cold and jittery. I’m not sure why but I have my theories. It lasted all night, keeping me in that fitful world that lies between sleep and awake. At some point around 4am, I remember drifting off. My poor wife had to endure my tossing, turning and talking to myself. She is a saint.

Missing from this particular episode however, was the panic that used to accompany the physical discomfort. In fact, I never felt panicked at all. I felt pretty even. Who knows. Maybe the last four years of dealing with my anxiety have made me into a different person. Let’s hope so, eh?

Living with panic attacks is a funny thing. You feel so helpless when it happens and then embarrassed that it tricked you again. You can actually hear that funny-voiced accent yelling, “Fooled you!!!” And you want to punch it in the face. (if voices had faces)

The oft-fooled prince is losing sleep at the thought of being a jester for the court of the Queen of Double Speak.

I’m beginning to feel over-connected again.

Tuna isn’t that bad tasting on Ritz crackers.

I hurt a friend’s feelings yesterday. It was an accident.
I start teaching March 10.

The check engine light is on in my truck…again.

Our house is starting to get really clean.

The headlights on April’s car are out and the back, left brake light is out on the truck.

I can feel myself beginning to lose weight. Sweet.

8 years is a long long time to seek and never find what you want. You don’t know. And you don’t want me. I’m so scarred.

I’ve been asked to be the keynote speaker this week to the National Honor Society at Lee University. They would like to know “The secret of my success.” Ha. When I think about what I have accomplished so far in my life, it isn’t as though I feel like a failure, but let’s be honest here- there is still so far to go. I know that I will leave a legacy one day, and I pray it is a good one. But speaking to a bunch of students about my success seems laughable at this stage in the game.

This begs the question. Am I even on the road to success?

To the world, the answer would be “yes.”

Here’s a young guy, high-profile job at a great company, on the ladder to success. This sounds awesome until you look at what this guy originally set out to do.  Now, before my wife has a heart attack thinking I’m leaving my job, let me set the record straight. I love my job. I really do. I feel fulfilled and hope to retire from here.

With that on the record, there are other things left for me to accomplish. Songs to play, books and comic books to write and various other activities that have been on my radar for years now. To call me successful seems really premature. If you knew what I wanted to do with the time I’ve been given, you would know I’ve barely just begun.

Count your losses and cast off your ashes and sackcloth. Resign to be idle for awhile.

I have a dear friend who has been going through a horrendous situation for a while. He has been struggling, like any of us would, with his misfortune. He’s a good man and has proven that to me more times than I could count. Still, his troubles have been so difficult that he has begun to question everything that he ever believed about God. I’m not so sure that is a bad thing. In fact, I’m pretty sure that even if his troubles kill him, the rest of us will benefit.

One difficult thing for him is the fact that everywhere he looks, people who are involved in very damaging ministries seem to be prospering. It makes him feel like a failure, and who can blame him? But the problem is this: We have forgotten that in this world, people yearn for, yet rarely reward, the real deal. There is a reason that Joel Olsteen makes tons of money, and it has nothing to do with theological soundness or ministerial integrity.

Dear Joel,

I still see value in being a martyr. You and your watered down, non-gospel can go buy some more mansions. I’ll stick around and watch my friend disintegrate in the name of the gospel instead.

Sincerely hoping to punch you in the face one day,

Rob Alderman

It’s not that I feel good. It’s that I can still feel and that’s good. And that’s all that’s good for now.

Amen.

I wanted all of you to know that the old blogging wayward will be back soon. Internet is returning to our home so that I can teach courses for Patten University, and along with that should come some more regular blogging.

I'm in a hurry this morning, but a friend sent this to me and I wanted to share it.
Do yourself a favor and go READ THIS STORY

You will be glad you did.


Rob of the Wayward

That dumb title..hehehe...cracks me up. Some of you will actually get it.
Anyway....here is the update.
 
I love my Doc. He's a good man. Always blunt and honest.
 
He says my BP is not in any sort of danger zone and he expects it will normalize. I am taking a little extra medication for a bit to be sure, but no worries.
 
He also said I'm a fatty and I need to lose weight. If I get down to 250 pounds, he will take me to Red Lobster.
 
Thanks to all who emailed me encouraging stuff...I love you all. Well, most of you anyway.
 
See you soon!
Rob
 
ps- I think I'm starting to understand Facebook.

Well, for the few of you who care, the fishing was good. Real good. I caught my big fish, but not my huge fish. It's ok. I'll be back sooner or later and try again.

My favorite part of the trip was at the end, when Gabe and I hiked up on a ridge over the river and smoked a cigar and watched the trout dancing. It was peaceful.

So, yesterday, my Blood Pressure spiked. It's down a little, but still not down, so I'm sitting here in the doctors office to ask him what to do. I have a feeling it is the same thing I already know...lose weight, get active, etc.

Why is that stuff so hard?

Anyway, I have put on a cool 50 pounds since coming to Life Care. I have decided enough is enough, so I'm back on the diet. Like I haven't said that a hundred times, right?

I'm teaching in the communications department for Patten University now. I'm the online prof for the communications class. I'm also developing a Theology and Popular Culture class for them that I can hopefully begin teaching soon.

OK..that ought to do for now. Pray for a brutha with high BP.

ps- American Idol tryouts are funny.

So...I'm on my way to the South Holston river to fly fish in the snow.

I am so excited that I don't really know what to say about it.

The Holston is one of the most technical rivers in the country, and to catch fish on it, you have to be really good. Also, it happens to have some HUGE fish.

Most of all, I'm excited to hole up in a cabin with some friends and hang out. I need to decompress, and hopefully, this will help. Things have been really busy lately, and I need to take a load off before I blow a gasket.

I hope I catch one.

Or two.

I'll post the results in a couple of days.

take care....

To The Faithful Underground...

I've been thinking lately about old friends.

Wondering where they are. The more it rains, the more I think along these lines.

There are times that I miss the old days more than you could know. I seem to wallow in the past from time to time. That is the danger with being a lover of stories. The stories about the old days always seem to be the most dear. I am making new stories every day, but they just don't hold weight until they have some age on them.

One of the old friends that I miss is God.

He and I still speak, though not as regularly as I would like. In fact, it would be honest to say that we speak often enough, but that the communication has somehow...changed.

That is the way of things. I can't say that my new relationship with God is any better or worse than my old one. Just different. Isn't that how friends are? As we grow and spend time together our friendships deepen. But they also change. One of the best friends I've ever had in my life recently posted a blog about his wife being pregnant. When they were pregnant with their first son, he called immediately. But now is not then, and things have changed. He is no less my friend.

Looking back can be an awkward, painful experience, but I hang out there for some reason.

So here I am, in the rain. Talking to God about how we used to be different. It felt a heckuva lot more exciting back in the day, but no less real.