Thursday, February 21, 2008

Lost Child


Here's a li'l somethin' I dredged up from 1994 and thought I'd share with ya'. By the way, this is a very young Jeff with a lot of hair and thinkin' he's playin' a git-tar. My, how things change...

Lost Child

When a child is lost
How much can
The inherent cost
Be weighed in hand?

Do we value birth
Children to see
Or is life worth
But a doctor's fee?

Does a mother dream
To hear baby cry
Or does it scream
Before it dies?

How many more
Must we lose
To win the war
And life we choose?

This I pray:
(The Lord IS able!)
Fill no grave
But fill a cradle.

(c) Jeff Henig 1994

Saturday, February 16, 2008

My Life, Such As It Is...


Study, study.

Study, study, study...

Yikes. That's my life, such as it is right now.

But that's okay. I'm sure that light at the end of the tunnel isn't an oncoming train, right?

This is quality time in the Greek with the Synoptic Gospels:


This is my Official Office:


This is my Amen Corner:


This is a closer look at the bookshelf in my Amen Corner:


But every now and then, I get a break and get to catch priceless moments.

The birds. Have. Landed. Oooh! Wuzzat?!?!?!?!?!?


Moar have time for beddybye????


Works for me.

Monday, February 4, 2008

Funny Super Bowl Story

I frequent a Raider-related Usenet group, to which my friend TRoaR posted this gem:

Yeah... a lot has happened since my last report.

I'd been hearing from different people that tickets were going for
pretty large sums of money and on a whim I put my ticket up on
Craiglist. Bad idea using my cell phone as I got 50 calls in a hour.
My boy got sick right as I was leaving Hawaii so I had no choice but
to leave it on and let them roll in.. so I decided to do a little
dealing. I quickly learned the area codes in New Jersey and New
England and after a while, I developed a script that went something
like this if it was a NE fan.


Yo...You still got that ticket? How much?

Yes sir and thanks for calling. Allow me to put something out front
before we talk about you buying my ticket. There are special
requirements for purchase. I am a Raider Fan and I'm going to need
you to admit that we got [messed over -- my edit] in the Tuck Rule incident.

You serious?

Yes, I have a ticket in my hand (gave out the section and seat) it is
a great seat. If you want me to sell it to you, then I am going to
need to hear these words. New England did not deserve to go to the SB
the year of the Snowjob. It was a bad call and a fumble. We don't
talk about it but we all know it deep down.

The first guy sez in an accent that sounds like he has a wad of bread
in his mouth, "aw forget about that, do you want to sell the ticket?"
I hang up. Went to the next caller on my list. Chowder head calls
back and sez.. are you fricking serious? "About a serious as a heart
attack; Sir this is your Karma you have on the line. I have the
ticket and you are going to have to sing to get it." Do you have your
confession ready or should I move on to your next door neighbor that I
have on hold?" "Listen, I'm in a hurry. Click.

Before I sold the ticket to a Giants Fan of 30 years for an obscene
amount of money, I garnered eight confessions. After a while, I put
the calls on speaker and had a little crowd at a table outside of my
hotel room. It was the most fun I had in years.

Sporting my throwback Wheatly Jersey, I watched the game at one of the
best sports bars I have ever been in called Fox Sports Grill. There
was a table of four Chowder Heads (two couples) in full gear making a
lot of noise. Yelling "18-0" and then "18-0 and a half" at the
intermission. I just kept making a motion of a video camera with my
hands at them.

After the game, I watched both the female chowder heads weep
uncontrollably after Eli engineered that sweet last minute drive. I
thought about the guy that I sold the ticket to. This was meant to
be. He was meant to be there and to witness that and I was meant to
be there to enjoy every last tear.

Sunday, February 3, 2008

'Scuse Me While I Snark A Bit...



No offense, folks. I just really didn't wanna' hear about 'em for the next, ohhhh, millennium or so.

They shall now and forevermore be called the *Chokeriots of Cheatergate.


Oh, and The Book? Take a look:


Priceless. Arrogance gets its come-uppance.
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