They found me with cobwebs on my eyeballs.

In College Writing they told you to begin at the beginning, and even though I dislike starting off on such a contrary note, I have to disagree. Taking you back to a county hospital in Medina almost a quarter century ago doesn't make for good reading... or does it?

At 11:45 P.M. on February 13th, it so happened that my mother was already several hours into labor with her first child, me. It comes to her attention that a friend is out in the lobby actually praying that my mom can hold on just a little bit longer, so that I'll be born on Valentine's day proper. Mother's response was swift, decisive, and loud: "MAKE HER STOP!"

She popped me out at 12:15 A.M. On V-day. Chance? Or divine intervention? I used to say chance, but the longer I've been alive, the more I've come to think that God has a mean streak of dry humor. I'm not sure anymore.

So, I grew up, met a girl, married her, was glad I did, went to university for 2 and a half years, quit school so she could finish, sold my body to slavery in a warehouse, lost my mind, ESCAPED!

They just found me in one of the annex storage buildings a few months ago, amidst the junked forklifts and discarded wooden pallets. Apparently, I'd been driving my pallet runner 2-feet back and forth for an indeterminate period of time. They say I had cobwebs on my eyeballs.

MY EYEBALLS!

Even though I hadn't even been on the payroll for over a year, since I'd gone missing, they were nice enough to back-pay me for my time of insanity. At least, that's all I can seem to remember about it on the bad days. Things get started getting hazy around the bit where I lost my mind.

God will undoubtedly come up in my writing here, as will my sarcastic humor, if you hadn't noticed. Please don't necessarily interpret that as indiscriminate irreverence. I can't take life quite as seriously as I used to. It's just my way.

I'm a Christian. I was raised in a minister's family. My two and half years of college thus far were spent majoring in Bible & Theology. My relationship with God is most important to me, but I've also got lots of questions. I don't think he's the slightest bit threatened by my need for answers. If mean, what kind of perfect divine being would present me with a limited faculty of understanding and then feel threatened by my quest for answers?

Aside from God, I plan to do a good deal of writing on this blog about people, places, the wilderness, and of course, donut shops. Maybe I'll even throw in some fiction writing when I feel like some variety. Backpackers, hikers, and nature lovers: Let's take a breather and talk for a bit. Lovers of fine beer, cigars, and donuts: Belly-up to the bar! Christians, theologians, and heretics: I've got questions too. Fellow Pilgrims: Welcome!