So what's this about? You'll have to head to Gather Round the Mic to find out!

Any readers I have left have probably noticed my lack of posting. In the past, I’ve used this space for a few things: Political rants, introspection, and most recently as a journal of my quest to make artful lattes. But I’m a busy guy — two kids, three or four jobs at any given time, and football season is about to start — so I often hit a wall when trying to think of or compose a coherent, moderately interesting blog entry.

Anywho, in an attempt to reawaken my writing mind, I’ve joined the cast of Gather Round the Mic, a collective of thoughtful bloggers who write on music, film, food, comedy and other such things. No, my posts probably won’t fit into any of those neat categories, but post I shall! In fact, my first post is up already… and in the interest of getting GRTM more web traffic, I suggest you head on over there and read it.

Any lingering political opinions will probably find their way here, as will further lattes and posts that might be too offensive for any of the other GRTM crew to be unwittingly associated with. And, on occasion, I may “crosspost,” and when I do, you’ll have to click over to the GRTM side to comment.

But seriously, GRTM has some great stuff on it. Go check it out right now!

About four-and-a-half years ago, I found myself at a crux: Quitting the only job I was qualified to do, jumping into a venture I knew nothing about, and giving relatively little thought to the potential downsides of what was to come.

Since that time, I’ve had two children; gone into great debt that I’m nowhere near out of; hired at least 15 people and fired five or six; and returned to the Only Job while keeping the Other Venture. (I’ve also learned that it’s no good to do the Only Job and hope the Other Venture runs itself; for the past few months I’ve been working 70+ hours a week between the two, and have even thrown in a third… more on that one in just a bit.)

As of this writing, I find myself at a similar turning point (the specifics of which I’ve already written of; you can catch up here): Leaving once again the world of journalism, which is what I was trained to do, and putting both feet into the slightly different world of marketing. (more…)

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and purify us from all unrighteousness.

— 1 John 1:9

When I was just turning 21, I “gave my life to Christ.” At least, that’s how it’s put in evangelical circles… Truth is, God took my life away from me. Gone was any lasting desire to do the things I had done… deceit, licentiousness, hatefulness chief among them.

Soon after, I began to smoke.

“Hmm,” you might be thinking, “that seems like a weird thing for a new Christian to start doing!” And looking back, it indeed seems very strange. I can’t remember any real motive, it was just something to do while I sat around reading and playing music. For at least a year or so my smoking was pretty calm… a clove cigarette (expensive, stinky kind) or two a day, no big deal. Right?

Fast-forward some six years, and I’ve probably smoked thousands of cigarettes. I was probably up to a pack a day before Shelley and I got married in 2003, and have struggled ever since in attempts to quit. A week here, a month there, I’ve gotten away from the stuff, but it always calls me back. It’s an addiction, and that’s what addictions do.

Meanwhile, my attempts to break my habit have been overall unsuccessful, and stresses as of late have had me enslaved again. Our church situation is almost nonexistent… we’ve been going to a cool little place and hearing God’s word preached clearly, but haven’t built any real relationships. Our friends (and people we WANT to be our friends) are generally well-meaning but do little if any reaching-out to us… if we don’t call and arrange something, it doesn’t get arranged. I’m trying to run a business, make a “real” living at the newspaper, raise a child, nurture a marriage, make music… and hopefully stay sane through it.

That’s the part that’s not working: the sanity. And cigarette after cigarette tells me it’ll calm my mind.

Anyway, I know (and have known) that my real sin here is in hiding… being addicted is more a disease than a sin, but pretending not to be is deception. I have hidden this from most people—how many of you are a little surprised to hear it?—have stretched the truth about it with everyone, even Shelley. I hate that I’ve done it, and yet I know that in mere hours, I could rationalize it again. And to rationalize is to desensitize, and how long does God and my rational brain and the medical consensus have to push-push-push until I get the drift?

SO: Beginning this day, I’m out of the closet. I am an addict—and I’ve no wish for qualifiers—but now it’s in the open. I’m praying for deliverance from this addiction, and I know from experience that God won’t hand it to me on some heavenly silver platter. Instead, everyone reading this has the chance to help me.

I won’t be blogging here too often, because I’m going to be breaking my addiction through an experiment in openness… it’s called Ashes of Addiction, and I’m going to chronicle the ups and downs of my struggles. If you want to help, then please visit every so often.

I pray each of you will forgive me, for my various hiding and/or lying and/or whatever… I’ve sinned not just against God but also, in a way, against anyone who thinks they know me. I ask, meanwhile, that you pray for me. That God would grant me victory over addiction, and give me something glorifying to do toward His work.

PS: Next time I’ll write something funny here. I promise.

FOXHOLE: Circa 2003 

FOXHOLE: Circa 2007

I’ll be surprised if anyone’s reading my blog anymore, simply because I haven’t updated it in weeks. Sorry about that… I’m sure you’ve found something better to read in the meantime. In case of full-on Justin withdrawal, I suggest you check out some of the links on the right… lots of good stuff there.

Anyway, part of the problem has been a continually surging stress level. My right-hand at Spencer’s is being amputated soon, and I’m really anxious about finding a replacement—not a prosthesis, but a fulling-working part with good firm digits and quick reflexes. Added to that was Foxhole tour, which took us in a circle from Bowling Green to Bushnell, Ill., then to Mt. Pleasant, Mich., Cincinnati and Louisville.

[youtube=http://youtube.com/watch?v=nRKxs1UiHeM]Playing music often turns out to be a real zero-sum proposition… we make some money on sales and shows, but our van guzzles gas and leaves us breaking even, at best. Meanwhile we spend hours driving from one city to the next, usually to find: a crowd of 30-80 people, many of them uninterested in the actual music; a venue that’s talked up what a great show it’ll be, only to come at the end of the night with much less money than they led us to believe; a promoter who said “I love your music!” who doesn’t take the simple steps to make sure things run smoothly, sound levels are right, and that people will actually show up.

It’s really, really frustrating, actually… I get myself pumped up for these outings, and they always sort of disappoint. I imagine a culture where artists are appreciated and are compensated properly… I’m not asking for punk-rock welfare here, just an understanding that creating and performing music takes a lot of hard work and that it’s worth more than $3 and a “good show, man” at the end of the night.

Granted, it’s a free market, and there are a few bands who can afford to pay for their meals, gas, even some entertainment with the earnings from their shows, and still have some money left over. But the market is way oversaturated and, on our end, we’re way too busy to pull some major marketing coup. It’s tough, too, for me to stay enthusiastic and to find the time to write and rehearse when all my bandmates are in Nashville; they, meanwhile, are plenty busy and aren’t as proactively minded as me, and so we tread water more often than not.

It wasn’t like this before, and I’m having a hard time adjusting. My strange day/night schedule at the newspaper was the first blow, marriage was the second and Lewis is a big one at No. 3. I’ve such fond memories of practicing and just jamming around with my bandmates on a semi-daily basis… my mind likes to forget that I was constantly down about not having a true love! Grass is always greener when you don’t have to cut it.

This is my first post to WordPress… I’ve been using Vox for months now, my first blog! I’ll always have a place in my heart for it… it’s so much easier to use than this infernal thing… the problem, of course, is that a reader can only post a comment if they’re a Vox user. And that’s no fun, since many of the few people who read my blog aren’t Voxers.

So from now on, this is my hitchin’ post. Please visit my old blog to read my old stuff… especially my last post on Jerry Falwell and all the memories his recent death stirred up inside me. I’m still going to be posting stuff there , particularly pics and music files, because it’s totally free whereas ol’ WordPress makes you pay after 50Mbs (hardly any space these days!).

I’ll still be updating the Vox account for my Vox friends… albeit not as frequently.