<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955159758421266767</id><updated>2011-07-08T10:52:24.730-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Greg LaFollette's Blog</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7955159758421266767/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Greg LaFollette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12806611642296508594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cQ7f8EjRETg/SpNdaOBH-2I/AAAAAAAAAAU/hSBTd-sYfgo/S220/IMG_0070.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955159758421266767.post-4337216797712122467</id><published>2010-06-13T15:08:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T15:08:23.971-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Here's to you Tony</title><content type='html'>I'm finishing up with mixes for a band called Sky Like Fire right now, and one of my favorite ways to pass the time as I bounce them down is to read my best friends' blogs. Well, it hasn't been too eventful lately, because no one has updated their blog in months...until today, when Tony sent out a warning call to us all...he's good like that. He's always been an impetus for the deepening of the friendships of the BHB's (and even when we were the LHB Crew). If it was the reality that we had to take him home to his mom's house after we hung out (and therefore risk our lives together), the fear we shared tightened our brotherly bonds. Or when he would begin to randomly weep on our couches, he was unwittingly pushing us all toward vulnerability. Or there's always the time that he chose to make my dreams come true and a fire extinguisher was expelled onto his face. These are just a few examples of how Tony is always bringing us closer...so, here's to you Tony. I love you buddy.&lt;div&gt;-g&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7955159758421266767-4337216797712122467?l=greglafollette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/feeds/4337216797712122467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/2010/06/heres-to-you-tony.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7955159758421266767/posts/default/4337216797712122467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7955159758421266767/posts/default/4337216797712122467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/2010/06/heres-to-you-tony.html' title='Here&apos;s to you Tony'/><author><name>Greg LaFollette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12806611642296508594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cQ7f8EjRETg/SpNdaOBH-2I/AAAAAAAAAAU/hSBTd-sYfgo/S220/IMG_0070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955159758421266767.post-3710218022513702620</id><published>2010-01-29T18:38:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T18:39:48.188-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Everyone Please Check This Out and Feel Free To Share</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border="0" width="0" height="0" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI2NDgxMTg*ODEyMCZwdD*xMjY*ODExOTAxMjgwJnA9MTkwMjgxJmQ9Njc3M2I5MjQtYjI2Yi**NGQzLWFmNTQtYjdkZTZh/MTcyYjNiJm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTImbz1iYmM1N2IwMzM5Y2I*OTlmOWQ*NjhkYzMzOGFjNjQyNyZvZj*w.gif" /&gt;&lt;div style="width:240px; height: 400px;"&gt;&lt;object width="240" height="400"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://static.noisetrade.com/w/NTWidget.swf?wid=6773b924-b26b-44d3-af54-b7de6a172b3b"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://static.noisetrade.com/w/NTWidget.swf?wid=6773b924-b26b-44d3-af54-b7de6a172b3b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="240" height="400"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7955159758421266767-3710218022513702620?l=greglafollette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/feeds/3710218022513702620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/2010/01/noisetrade-widget.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7955159758421266767/posts/default/3710218022513702620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7955159758421266767/posts/default/3710218022513702620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/2010/01/noisetrade-widget.html' title='Everyone Please Check This Out and Feel Free To Share'/><author><name>Greg LaFollette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12806611642296508594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cQ7f8EjRETg/SpNdaOBH-2I/AAAAAAAAAAU/hSBTd-sYfgo/S220/IMG_0070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955159758421266767.post-7202972374695033129</id><published>2010-01-29T15:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T15:03:16.507-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Random Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:13.0pt;font-family:Helvetica"&gt;Rage permeated the room faster than I could clasp my hands over my mouth and shade my eyes. The piano’s sheet music was still floating down to the old, scarred hard wood floor like fall leaves floating back and forth until they rest safely at their long awaited destination.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was one of those slow motion moments where everyone knows damn well that everything is moving as quickly as usual, but the senses are suddenly acute enough to take in extra information.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The way Sam’s eyes bulged with euphoria and fear; my arm muscles quivering in reflex; the steady hum of the window unit air conditioner; the smell of burnt matches; the foreign taste of regret on my lips.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Teddy ran outside onto the porch.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;No one dare go out and check on him.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Instead we crouched down under the window and pulled back the curtain ever so slightly.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He was standing on the porch shirtless and shivering, trying desperately to get his cigarette lit.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s a good thing that we had just gotten back from 7-11, otherwise he would have been cigarette-less and even more ill-tempered.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We sat, watching him for what seemed like just a few seconds, but was actually more like 25 minutes, before I decided to brave it and talk to him.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I put on my jacket and nodded back toward my friends before leaving the living room.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I felt like an eighteen-year-old draftee, forced into action, who has bit the proverbial bullet and knows what has to be done.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“His life or mine,” I kept thinking.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It didn’t really have anything to do with the present circumstances, but something about the thought softened the dire severity surrounding me.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Probably not too distant from a soldier’s meandering thoughts.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The next thing I knew, I was standing awkwardly next to Teddy with nothing much to say.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He puffed away, seemingly content to let me suffer there, while I racked my brain searching for the right words to break the 6 foot thick ice.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I started with “So,”&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;but before I could say anything more, he interjected.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“Dude, it’s cool.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s enough that you’re here.”&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There was something sort of funny to me about hearing him say that.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He always seemed like such a savage.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;No woman could ever have his heart, because, well, he didn’t have a heart.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That sort of thing.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7955159758421266767-7202972374695033129?l=greglafollette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/feeds/7202972374695033129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/2010/01/random-story.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7955159758421266767/posts/default/7202972374695033129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7955159758421266767/posts/default/7202972374695033129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/2010/01/random-story.html' title='A Random Story'/><author><name>Greg LaFollette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12806611642296508594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cQ7f8EjRETg/SpNdaOBH-2I/AAAAAAAAAAU/hSBTd-sYfgo/S220/IMG_0070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955159758421266767.post-4863891944816900336</id><published>2010-01-19T12:48:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T14:40:59.177-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Have I Won Monopoly To Forfeit My Soul?</title><content type='html'>I've been playing a pretty good amount of monopoly lately, and I feel like I've been learning about myself.  Here's the break through: I'm becoming a person who doesn't mind losing for the sake of a good time.  I can't really remember that being true of myself prior to this stage of life.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Heard "Company Car" (by Switchfoot) while playing though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7955159758421266767-4863891944816900336?l=greglafollette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/feeds/4863891944816900336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/2010/01/have-i-won-monopoly-to-forfeit-my-soul.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7955159758421266767/posts/default/4863891944816900336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7955159758421266767/posts/default/4863891944816900336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/2010/01/have-i-won-monopoly-to-forfeit-my-soul.html' title='Have I Won Monopoly To Forfeit My Soul?'/><author><name>Greg LaFollette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12806611642296508594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cQ7f8EjRETg/SpNdaOBH-2I/AAAAAAAAAAU/hSBTd-sYfgo/S220/IMG_0070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955159758421266767.post-4732316759061573949</id><published>2009-11-21T12:42:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T12:43:04.943-06:00</updated><title type='text'>That Fool John Donne</title><content type='html'>This killed me last week...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Book Antiqua'; font-size: medium; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;Batter my heart, three-person'd God ; for you&lt;br /&gt;As yet but knock ; breathe, shine, and seek to mend ;&lt;br /&gt;That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend&lt;br /&gt;Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.&lt;br /&gt;I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,&lt;br /&gt;Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.&lt;br /&gt;Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,&lt;br /&gt;But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.&lt;br /&gt;Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,&lt;br /&gt;But am betroth'd unto your enemy ;&lt;br /&gt;Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,&lt;br /&gt;Take me to you, imprison me, for I,&lt;br /&gt;Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,&lt;br /&gt;Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia, 'Book Antiqua';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia, 'Book Antiqua';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"&gt;This is a really beautiful version of the prayer of my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia, 'Book Antiqua';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"&gt;-g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia, 'Book Antiqua';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7955159758421266767-4732316759061573949?l=greglafollette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/feeds/4732316759061573949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/2009/11/that-fool-john-donne.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7955159758421266767/posts/default/4732316759061573949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7955159758421266767/posts/default/4732316759061573949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/2009/11/that-fool-john-donne.html' title='That Fool John Donne'/><author><name>Greg LaFollette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12806611642296508594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cQ7f8EjRETg/SpNdaOBH-2I/AAAAAAAAAAU/hSBTd-sYfgo/S220/IMG_0070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955159758421266767.post-4472380355216745116</id><published>2009-09-14T09:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T09:19:27.288-05:00</updated><title type='text'>To Put A Careful Finger on My Emotion</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial, serif;"&gt;This is something I wrote a while ago, but since Zach posted about Manhattan, I will too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial, serif;"&gt;12/22/08&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Last week I was presented a feeling that I’ve since been trying to define.  Nick called it a cereal bowl shaped hole in my heart: that feeling in your stomach that seems like something important, but is really just a hidden, acute desire for Fruit Loops.  While this seemed like a plausible explanation, I decided to investigate further.  It was a vague sense of yearning, the filling up of warm compassion, the flooding of my mind with cozy memories called away from their regular spot around the hearth of my heart.  The interesting thing was there were no memories that were summoned; it just felt like it does when they are.  Likewise, it was a longing for something more, a loneliness for love.  An unnatural feeling hope; one that could be easily misunderstood as hopelessness for the void it produces.  James Taylor, who possesses one of the most enduring talents of any artist that I’ve ever come across, has a lyric that I was struck by in considering all of this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;“There is a feeling like the clenching of a fist,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;There is a burning in the center of my chest.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well put, James.  That’s what I’m talking about.  I love it when art hits the nail on the head (for another example, see the chorus of Paul Simon’s song “Graceland.”)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;In pondering my mystery emotion, I also had the impression that I was investing in dangerous business; that I should exercise unmitigated vigilance to put a careful finger on my emotion.  Sometimes it’s easier to not know how or what you’re feeling.  To discover the expanse of my divorced self would mean a long road of reconciliation and my walkers are weary and weak from lack of use.   Well, I decided a few months ago that the destination of self-awareness is worth the traveling, so I once again decided to continue to explore. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I tried to describe the feeling in as many ways as I could in an attempt to key in on a definitive answer to my ponderings.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;An emptiness that needs to be filled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A puzzlingly pleasant hollowing out of the soul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A hole in your heart where things can fall through the cracks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ambition.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A desire for something more than what is immediately here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A hunger for conclusion, answers or the next step on a journey.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A secret that you want to keep, but desperately want to tell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A step out of the shadows and into the light.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Loneliness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A fear of mystery.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A long exhalation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;From this list, the most intriguing insight is the apparent similarity between ambition and loneliness.  This correlation had never really struck me before, but, in hindsight, they do feel much the same.  John Eddy told me the only difference between the two is simply that with ambition you have a plan to do something about it.  That makes sense, but I don’t know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I guess all of this is to say, despite the dull sense of pain that accompanies it, I think I like the feeling (whatever the conclusive evidence decides it may be).  If for no other reason, I like it because it’s real.  Like most things in this life that are real, it is neither purely good nor bad, happy or sad, black or white.  Nor is it easy to figure out, and that’s the most encouraging thing to me.  I’m grateful to be able to feel anything real.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7955159758421266767-4472380355216745116?l=greglafollette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/feeds/4472380355216745116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/2009/09/to-put-careful-finger-on-my-emotion.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7955159758421266767/posts/default/4472380355216745116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7955159758421266767/posts/default/4472380355216745116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/2009/09/to-put-careful-finger-on-my-emotion.html' title='To Put A Careful Finger on My Emotion'/><author><name>Greg LaFollette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12806611642296508594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cQ7f8EjRETg/SpNdaOBH-2I/AAAAAAAAAAU/hSBTd-sYfgo/S220/IMG_0070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955159758421266767.post-7998777032164872571</id><published>2009-09-01T15:03:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T15:15:37.466-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Songwriting Discovery...</title><content type='html'>So far in Splashville, I've co-written the following songs with the following lines:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Believe me, I Know&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"It's hard to see the truth, believe me, I know...."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. I Choose Today&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"There's always gonna be a choice to hear the truth above the noise..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. So Where Are You&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"So where are you?  I'm looking for the answers.  When life falls through I'm left here &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;waiting on Your words..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. I Need to Know&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"Teach me to be sure of who You are..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"Blessed Assurance take me and make me believe..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5.  What If I Told You&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"What if I told you nothing but the truth?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. It's A Long Way Back Home&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"I know there's a reason that keep me believing..."&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyone else see a theme?  Dang it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-g&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7955159758421266767-7998777032164872571?l=greglafollette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/feeds/7998777032164872571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/2009/09/songwriting-discovery.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7955159758421266767/posts/default/7998777032164872571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7955159758421266767/posts/default/7998777032164872571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/2009/09/songwriting-discovery.html' title='A Songwriting Discovery...'/><author><name>Greg LaFollette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12806611642296508594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cQ7f8EjRETg/SpNdaOBH-2I/AAAAAAAAAAU/hSBTd-sYfgo/S220/IMG_0070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955159758421266767.post-2434430099227016371</id><published>2009-08-30T20:14:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T21:00:09.275-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Home Team Advantage</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Things that have been making me miss Kansas City this week:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;1.  Earlier this week I co-wrote a song called "It's A Long Way Back Home."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;2.  The Chiefs game on Saturday night...Bless their hearts.  (And I took Matt Cassel in my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;fantasy draft a couple of weeks ago.  I think I might have lost before we even start.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;3.  My brother and dad went racing this weekend.  I always try to go to the first race of the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;summer, but, obviously I didn't get to go to this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;4.  I watched Armageddon with Sionnie, and I was literally sobbing when Harry told Gracie &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;goodbye.  Bruce at his best, me at my worst.  It made me miss my dad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;5.  My buddy Dean introduced his first child to the world via Facebook.  I got to meet her in the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;hospital, but it just reminded me of how much I won't be able to be there for her.  I trust &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;she's in good hands.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I love Nashville, by the way, but Kansas City, and its inhabitants, have a firm grasp on my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;-g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Ps.  For the record, blogging is harder than anticipated.  Hopefully I'll get better at it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7955159758421266767-2434430099227016371?l=greglafollette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/feeds/2434430099227016371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/2009/08/home-team-advantage.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7955159758421266767/posts/default/2434430099227016371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7955159758421266767/posts/default/2434430099227016371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greglafollette.blogspot.com/2009/08/home-team-advantage.html' title='Home Team Advantage'/><author><name>Greg LaFollette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12806611642296508594</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cQ7f8EjRETg/SpNdaOBH-2I/AAAAAAAAAAU/hSBTd-sYfgo/S220/IMG_0070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
