Word Gumbo

This song pretty much sums up my life right now- a mixture of ideological and theological introspection along with sadness, strife, hope for renewal, and redemption.
Wash Away

I got troubles oh, but not today
Cause they’re gonna wash away
They’re gonna wash away

And I have sins Lord, but not today
Cause they’re gonna wash away
They’re gonna wash away

And I had friends oh, but not today
Cause they’re done washed away
They’re done washed away

And oh, I’ve been cryin’
And oh, I’ve been cryin’
And oh, no more cryin’
No, no more cryin’ here

We get along Lord, but not today
Cause we gonna wash away
We gonna wash away

And I got troubles oh, but not today
Cause they gonna wash away
This old heart gonna take them away

This song goes out to two special women in my life. These are the women who have given my Jetta the occasion to have been hit twice while being parked in front of my house and highly visible.

She thinks my Jetta’s Sexy (adapted from She thinks my tractor’s sexy- Kenny Chesney)

Plowing through these streets in the hot summer sun 
Bombing down the street lordy here she comes
With a car full of weed and a big cold (long island) ice tea
My Jetta has no room to move and her car climbs on up
Open up a throttle and stir a little dust
Just look at her face she ain’t a foolin me none

She thinks my Jetta’s sexy
It really turns her on
She’s always aiming
While it’s parked alonggggg
She likes the way she’s pullin’ off my rear suspension while tillin’ up my paint
She’s even kind of crazy ’bout my FOR SALE sign gone away 
She’s the only one who really understands what gets me
She thinks my Jetta’s sexy

I am an avid fan of sports. I believe it is a great way to explore your potential and push yourself beyond what you feel is capable of your body.  Take mountain biking for example. It is not a pleasant feeling to bike up a steep grade on a logging road for over an hour just to reach the top of a hill. It sucks, plainly. Your lungs burn, your back drips ounces and ounces of sweat, and you find yourself dwelling on the fact that hikers could probably walk up the hill faster than the speed you’re traveling. Yet when you reach the top and look out over the valley and elevation you conquered on two wheels, an enormous sense of pride spreads across your face. It makes the 15 minute descent so much more gratifying. After all, you earned it.

But what happens when you play competitive sports against other players and on a team? What do you do with the bitter taste of defeat, which seems to be the Special of the Day every single game?  Losing streaks can be more personally defeating than having to get off your bike and walk it up a hill (something I’m very familiar with).

No one likes to lose, at least not all the time.  Yet everyone appears to react the same when they do, whether they are a well-accomplished team or just getting into the sport. Each year the World Cup prominently displays these common reactions as nations lose and fail to advance to the finals. Perhaps what the World Cup has done is not show us how different each country is, but how similar we all are despite race, language, and national history. “[Players] blame themselves. They blame the other guy. They weep. They stew. They act stoic. They act up.” (Michael J. Agovino, NY Times, June 18^th, 2006) I have a theory that players experience more emotional anguish when they are use to winning, than if they are just grateful to be in the competition.  Take note of many African nations. According to M.J. Agovino, “given their meager resources, [they] are just happy to have qualified for the cup, and the reactions to the losses… ‘have not been irritable or violent but rather with a degree of stoicism or grace.’”

Should sports be used to prove to ourselves and others that we are better than someone else? If not, then what should its true focus be? And if so, is it wrong to see how accomplished we are and capable of taking on others? I doubt the U.S. Women’s Soccer team goes to games expecting just to have fun. They play to win. Furthermore, I find it interesting that the Olympics were once viewed as a way to train men to be in the military and engage in combat.

I have a fortune cookie message taped on my computer monitor at work. It reads, “Remember that winners do what losers don’t want to do.” If a person only plays sports to win all the time, and quits if that goal isn’t met, is he/she a winner? Perhaps sticking with something despite the sense of accomplishment being met serves a greater purpose- such as self-determination and mental resilience.

I think I need to follow my own logic of thinking. I wanted to quit a Lindy Hop class because the teacher was an ass the first night and I didn’t like the way he led the class. Since then I have gone to the library and checked out a video to teach me how to lead so that Stacy and I can dance together and have a constant partner throughout the 5-week course. I may not turn out to be a great lead, but at least I didn’t let a teacher take away the accomplishment of teaching my body to move in new ways and express itself. Not to mention the personal health I’m gaining by being active.

CNN Q: Is Superman gay?

A: Do we really care?

I have a bookmark on my office desk that is sort of like your birth horoscope. Based on what day and month you were born on, this gives a snapshot of what type of person you are and what things you can find success in. 

Mine lists that I have a restless spirit and so traveling for a job is satisfying. It also states to discipline my mind for a positive attitude. "By releasing and letting go of negative mental patterns you can draw material success to yourself."

How about letting go of negative mental patterns for the goal in and of itself? Does slighting everything serve a great purpose?  Has my bitching about my family or nation's treatment of me granted me anything of value?

Today I look back at myself and see that hatred closes me off to things and people. It radiates off my skin like asphault giving off heat on a summer day. I've always noticed that people who have a positive disposition seem more approachable and have a calming effect on those around them. 

I agree with my bookmark on my desk. Only my goal to focus on the positive and constructive things in life will be done not for financial profit. If that comes from it, I won't complain. But my goal would be to not complain and dwell on injustices without constructive action simply because that is the only avenue in which effective change occurs and the self is given an honored voice. 

The following has been copied by an Advocate article recently posted to their website.  Click  here for the official web page.

Dear Pat Robertson
After five gay men met the notoriously antigay preacher at brunch in Virginia—and posed with him for a photo featured in the current issue of The Advocate—one of them wrote this letter to send along with a copy of the photo.

By Andrew Brewer

An Advocate.com exclusive posted, May 15, 2006

Mr. Pat Robertson
977 Centerville Turnpike
Virginia Beach, VA 23463

Dear Mr. Robertson:

By way of introduction, my name is Andrew Brewer. I am formerly a Biblical studies major and currently a vice president at a major network here in New York City.

I am enclosing a picture that we took together the other day–the day before Easter–at [a restaurant at the country club] The Homestead. You were very gracious in allowing us to interrupt your afternoon to pose with us. Thank you so much. After the picture you asked if we were a members of a team or club, and I replied that we were all friends from New York. We are all friends, but we do have more than that in common…

You see, we are all young men who, from the moment of birth, have always known that we were sexually attracted to those of our own gender. To a man, we have had to endure the long and difficult process of admitting this truth to others and ourselves. The reason why the road was so tough for many of us was well-meaning but horribly misguided folks who taught our parents and society in general that homosexuality is “immoral”–a “sickness” and a “sin.” Some of us were even fooled into thinking that with enough prayer and hard work we could change the way that we were lovingly created–a process that brought misery to a few of us.

Certainly, we could discuss for hours what the Bible says and doesn’t say about homosexuality, slavery, the role of women, and other pertinent issues. I’m sure we could also have exhaustive talks about the definition of what the Bible is and the veracity of what its contents. What we, as a group, would like for you to consider this spring, however, is your own relationship to Christ’s words.

On Easter weekend, five gay men sat near Pat Robertson at brunch at a Virginia country club. When he agreed to a photo, the notoriously antigay preacher (above, in yellow shirt) became part of the rainbow with (from left) Justin Croft, Orlan Boston, Jason Davis, Andrew Brewer, and Erik Bottcher.

For example, didn’t Christ–who was put to death by the government working with the religious leaders of his time, in part because of his inclusive teachings–basically say in Luke, chapters 12 and 14: “No one of you can be my disciple unless he sell all that he has, give it to the poor, and come follow me?” This is just one of the scores of lessons that Jesus, who said nothing of homosexuality, preached in praise of poverty and against wealth. Respectfully, how do you square these verses with the multimillion-dollar enterprise that you have created and the personal fortune that you have amassed for yourself? The hypocrisy of using his name to marginalize men like us–at times making our lives excruciatingly difficult–while directly and blatantly contradicting his very clear teachings is both bold and unfathomable.

Perhaps the universe or God brought us together that day before Easter so that you might be prompted to really deeply consider the fact that your rhetoric and your actions have very real consequence. We know. Although we have no doubt of your sincerity and well-meaning nature, we represent those who are victims, in one way or another, of the shaded truth you and others tell perhaps to further your own ends. Perhaps it’s just that you don’t know any better.

If you would like to discuss further, I am certainly available to talk. Thank you for you time and consideration.

Andrew Brewer