Momma Never Told Me There'd Be Days Like These

Ok, folks, my wife and I are really sick and the kids are really healthy, so I have a little time to work on my blog in between the Ibuprophen, Tylenol, and inhaling vitamin C like it's the last crack on earth.

Very rarely have Tracie and I ever been sick at the same time. I can only remember one other time. It wouldn't be such a big deal, but we now have a very active 11 month old baby. Last night I was laying on the couch and Tracie was in the big chair. We just stared at each other and occasionally moaned. We called all the kids into the room (the three oldest). I was pretty delirious, so I'm not sure what I said, but it might have gone something like this, "If you want to go to heaven, you will do everything I say." Then ,I think I threatened them that if they didn't I would lock them in a room and make them listen to k.d. lang, which I assured them would result in extensive counseling after the fact.

Now you would think that time home with your spouse would improve relations and open up lines of communication. However when my wife spilled her coffee down the front of her shirt, the most romantic thing that came out of my mouth was, "Hey baby, if you put one more stain on that t-shirt you're wearing, I just might ask you out."

At one point, Tay asked if he could get on the computer and I yelled out, "NO, DOES THAT HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH TAKING CARE OF YOUR PARENT'S NEEDS!"



I've added a few things in the sidebar. Take note of the "Best of John Loux" in the sidebar. I have posted two of the ones that make people laugh the hardest, however I am open to your nominations as well. Anything you think I should add?

Lose Your Balance and You'll Become a Psycho

I went on a ministry trip to Cincinnati with my brother and about 10 students from FMA. Now I've got to tell you, I absolutely hate packing. It takes me forever, and of course I have to iron everything because what if I stay in a place that has no iron? You can't just stand up in front of a bunch of people with wrinkly clothes. For that alone, I need serious counseling. For some reason on this trip for my pajamas I packed my flannel bottoms and oddly enough my superman t-shirt.

I'm not sure why I thought that wearing a superman t-shirt, being 38 years old, among 8 other guys in their 20's would be a good idea, but apparently I didn't think that one through. It is a cool super man t-shirt, it's kind of punk, and it's not cheesy at all, but never the less it's still a super man t-shirt.

Now let me set the stage for you, folks. Prior to this trip I had played 26 sets over the past 2 weeks, that's 52 hours of live playing, not including practices. To say the least, I was burnt out. My hands were hurting me, I hated the guitar, all things musical, and quite possibly the whole prayer movement. On top of it all, I hadn't had a whole lot of blue chair time, so my heart wasn't in the best place, and I was pretty much a wreck.

But I have learned my lesson. No longer will my life be that out of balance again, I swear it. The pinnacle of this reality came one evening on the trip. We were all staying in one house. All the guys were staying in the basement sleeping in sleeping bags on the floor. I put on my super man t-shirt, my flannel bottoms (suddenly feeling like I was 12 again), got in my sleeping bag, zipped it up, and went to sleep. However, sometime between 11:30Pm and 6:00Am, I had a dream. In this dream something was chasing me. I yelled out in my sleep (no one knows exactly what I said), and then proceeded to crawl out of my sleeping bag and crawl across the basement floor at a rapid pace. I found myself awake on my hands and knees at the foot of Kurt Weaver's sleeping bag in my superman t-shirt. "Awkward!"

Luckily, nobody woke up and I quickly crawled Back to my sleeping bag the same way I had left it, and hoped that when I awoke I would realize that it was all just a dream, the year was 1983, and I was in junior high again.

MY 5150 vs. Rod Parsley's Butt

Here is yet another legendary picture from the Call Ohio. Notice I have highlighted a couple of things I'd like to point out. First of all, I got to play through a Peavey 5150 Eddie Van Halen 200 watt guitar amp, which is not real visible in the photo, thus the white arrow. I'll say two things about this amp. It sounds awesome and it's stinkin' loud! The second thing I highlighted is Rod Parsley's butt.

Now let me try to set the scene for you. Eddie James was playing before us and we were watching his set in the Green Room back stage. Close to the end of his set from out of nowhere, we hear this raspy type screaming- which kind of sounded like the Wicked Witch of the West and Axel Rose going through deliverance. Much to our surprise, it was Rod Parsley and when the camera finally focused on him, he was pretty much moshing in a fashion that Henry Rollins would be proud of.

So here's the thing, we had to follow Eddie James and Rod Parsley. How the heck are ya going to do that, it's like trying to go on after Zeppelin. Nobody went on after Zeppelin. So we did the only thing one can do in a situation like this, we went Celtic. We opened up with my brother's song "Sovereign God" and then later on he busted out his penny whistles. Hey, if you can't beat 'em- clog, that's what I always say!

Anyway, when I went on stage, Rod Parsley was in the position you see him in. His butt facing my very, very loud amp. I tried giving him and "audio" warning, by throwing in a few volume swells- that's when I turn the volume of the guitar off, play a note, and then slowly bring the volume up. In this case, I was saying, "Excuse me Mr. Parsley, unless you brought a new pair of shorts, you're going to want to move."

If any of you have ever heard the song "Sovereign God", it starts off very droning and laid back and then kicks in with a massive wall of sound. Let's just say, he moved!

My Hair and 10,000 People

This picture was taken by Jessica Gliserman at The Call in Cincinnati.

You'll notice 3 things.
1. There are a ton of people there.
2. That's Rod Parsley standing there pointing the microphone in front of me.
3. By the looks of my hair, it seems that I should be playing lead guitar for the "Little Rascals" rather than any worship band.
(and oh yeah, I'm very white)

Let me clarify folks. I arrived at the arena at 11AM and didn't play until 6:30PM; and not one of my friends, including my wife, told me that my hair looked like crap. My closest friends surrounded me: my family, the Bohlender's, and not even sweet Therese Engle- I thought she'd at least do that "mom" thing and lick her hand and smooth down my hair.

The sad thing about it is, I thought my hair was "rockin'" that day. It was finally getting to the length that I had had it a year or so before that I really liked- back then I was getting comments like, "Hey, you look like Keith Urban. " (of course back then I was tanning and working out)

Upon confronting my wife with this picture, she proceeded to tell me, "Honey, you have really thin hair and you're a tall, skinny man. When you have hair like that it only stays in place for like 30 minutes and then it flies all over the place."

My concern is, what else isn't she telling me? Like for instance:

"Oh yeah honey, I've been meaning to tell you, for the last two years, you've been walking around with your fly down."
OR
"Hey you should've kept tanning, because you have freakishly, white pasty skin, and when you stand in front of 10,000 people with 200 lights blazing on you, it's a wonder anybody can focus. You've got that whole Goth thing going without any make up!"

After her comment about my hair, I have gotten it cut- quite short. Of course the only problem now, being a tall, skinny man with white pasty skin and thinning hair, is my increasingly large, shinny forehead.