Diet Top 10

(from Bobby)

For about a month, I have been dieting.

Dieting as in trying to rein in this gut of mine that has developed over the years.

So far, so good: I have dropped about 12 pounds.

I started out counting Weight Watchers points but mainly have tried to adopt an approach that might work long-term: Eating at meals and cutting out snacks in between. Stopping the habit I had developed of following every lunch with a brownie or Snickers bar. Replacing my daily sausage biscuit at McDonald's with either an Egg McMuffin or a homemade egg muffin (trust me, Tamie's version is 10 times better and just as healthy as the fast-food one).

As the diet continues, I offer my top 10 lists of the best and worst parts of this weight-loss experiment.

BOBBY'S TOP 10 WORST PARTS OF DIETING

10. Too many trips to Subway to eat a sandwich instead of a burger.

9. No cake and ice cream at Kendall's birthday party.

8. No Doritos nacho cheese tortilla chips.

7. No boxes of Milk Duds, Ding Dongs or Sugar Babies.

6. Growling stomach in the afternoon.

5. No going back repeatedly to pile more macaroni and cheese on my plate.

4. No brownie with nuts after lunch.

3. No sausage biscuit drenched with grape jelly every morning.

2. No cheese and chips when eating at Ted's (my favorite Tex-Mex restaurant).

1. No eating for entertainment purposes (i.e., popcorn at the movie theater, hot fudge sundae at Braum's, etc.).

BOBBY'S TOP 10 BEST PARTS OF DIETING

10. Rotisserie chicken tastes pretty good with a reasonable amount of barbecue sauce.

9. Still embarrassed to take shirt off at swimming pool, but not as much as before.

8. Caffeine-free Diet Coke (what's left when you remove the sugar and the caffeine? I don't know, but it has grown on me).

7. Lack of that sickeningly full feeling after pigging out at any given opportunity.

6. Win brownie points with wife (even if no actual brownies are allowed).

5. Cupcakes made with diet soda instead of eggs and oil are awesome.

4. Diet Dr Pepper (much better than regular Dr Pepper).

3. Jello sugar-free chocolate pudding with Cool Whip Light.

2. Homemade egg muffin or Egg McMuffin for breakfast (THIS IS DIETING!? My wife claims it is).

1. Seeing the number go down on the scale.

I miss my friend

(from Bobby)

I've been thinking a lot lately about a dear ole friend of mine.

Some of my fondest childhood memories involve my friend, from poring over baseball box scores together to contemplating the state of our hometown -- and the world -- at roughly the same time every morning.

My friend and I were inseparable for so, so many years. Of course, I heard occasional rumblings that my friend was not in the best of health, but I suppose I figured my friend would always be there. Or, at the least, that my friend would outlive me.

Now, I am not so sure. And it's sad, really.

Newspapers are dying.

Why I put that in italics, I don't know. Maybe I don't have the heart to put it in regular type, as if that would somehow make the cold hard truth more real.

I am sure you will pardon me for my nostalgia.

But when I think about newspapers, I remember buying the Winston-Salem Journal every so often when I lived in North Carolina and was in about the fourth grade. That was the 1970s, and we didn't have 24-hour sports channels or an easy way for a 9-year-old boy to keep up with the Cincinnati Reds, his favorite team. So, when I had a quarter, I'd buy a paper and quickly turn to the sports section to see how many games the Reds had won since the last paper I bought -- and whether my favorite players (Pete Rose, Johnny Bench, Joe Morgan, etc.) were among the league leaders in home runs, RBI's or batting average.

When I think about newspapers, I remember the Fort Worth Star-Telegram landing on our driveway every morning after we moved to Texas in 1982 (I was 14 and headed into the ninth grade). For the first time in my life, I didn't have to go to the store to buy a paper. And I found that I loved not just the sports section -- but also the front page and the Dear Abby page and most everything in between.

By my sophomore year of high school, I had taken a journalism class and gotten my first byline -- an interview with the band director -- in the school newspaper. I was hooked. I made it my goal to become editor of the school paper, and I started reading every real paper I could get my hands on. Besides the Star-Telegram that came to our house, I often bought The Dallas Morning News and the Dallas Times Herald. I devoured the stories, the photos and the distinct ways that each paper covered the news -- often the same news.

At some point I determined that having my name -- my byline -- on the front page of a paper like the Star-Telegram, Morning News or Times Herald -- I didn't really care which one - - would be the coolest thing in the world. By my junior year of high school, I knew that I wanted to major in journalism in college.

One of the thrills of my young life came the summer between my junior and senior years at Oklahoma Christian University when I got a job writing freelance stories for the Northeast Tarrant County bureau of the Star-Telegram. I think I was paid between $25 and $40 per story (depending on the effort and number of words involved), but at that point in my life, I might have paid them to let me work in a newsroom with real writers for a big newspaper. I spent that summer covering suburban city council meetings and various general assignments. My first story, if I recall, was about a boy who had excelled at Special Olympics. I know that I still have it in a clip book somewhere in my closet.

But I can't tell you how excited I was about that first byline in the Star-Telegram. The story came out in the Northeast section in the Sunday paper, which typically arrived about 4:30 a.m. I must have gotten up every 30 minutes that night to check the time and see if the paper was outside yet. I'll never forget that it was actually my dad who woke me up that morning -- I guess I finally dozed off pretty hard! -- to show me my byline.

A few years later, when I worked for The Daily Oklahoman, I experienced that same excitement the first time I wrote a Page 1 story. The story concerned a police chief quitting amid a scandal and was stripped across the top of the front page of the state's largest newspaper. I drove up to the newsroom about 11 p.m. to get a copy of an early edition. Over my nine years with The Oklahoman, I probably wrote 200 or 300 front-page stories and, I must acknowledge, I tossed and turned most nights until the paper came. Part of it was the thrill of doing important work (or seemingly important work). The other part was the realization that editors working late at night were making changes -- and writing headlines -- that potentially could make my life miserable in the morning. But that's a whole other discussion! :)

Later, during my three years with The Associated Press in Nashville and Dallas, much of what I wrote got much better play on Web sites such as Yahoo and AOL than it did in printed newspapers. Still, when I wrote stories that made the front page of the Los Angeles Times, the A section of the Sunday Washington Post or the cover of the Chicago Tribune feature section, for example, that is how I judged success -- as evidenced by those pages still hanging on my wall today.

My point is that I loved newspapers. For many years, I'd read The Oklahoman on Sunday morning, then buy The Dallas Morning News Sunday edition after church. When I would travel, I'd make it a point to pick up a copy of the local paper and read it from cover to cover.

But at some point, as newspapers cut back on reporters and editors and news holes -- and as my wireless Internet connection allowed me instant access to headlines, blogs and a variety of niche media -- I stopped subscribing to the newspaper.

I don't know if I stopped subscribing because I felt like I no longer needed a newspaper, or if I stopped subscribing because the (lack of) quality of the product depressed me too much. For anyone reading who thinks I am making an editorial statement about any particular newspaper, that is not the case. I am simply commenting on the sad economic state of newspapers and the reality of what daily papers have become in an age of falling print advertising revenues, shrunken (if that's the right word) staffs and an entirely new digital media age.

Yesterday, I read (online) about a major California newspaper outsourcing some copy editing responsibilities to a company in India, and a major Florida newspaper cutting 130 (!) positions from its newsroom. Today, I read a blog post by a college intern at a major paper who is not so sure he'll get to live his dream of being a newspaper writer because he's not sure newspapers will be around. That is sad to me.

Don't get me wrong. I love all the information available to me at the click of my fingertips. I love that, when the U.S. Supreme Court makes a landmark ruling in a gun case, The New York Times, the Washington Post and CNN all e-mail me -- for free -- breaking news alerts. I love that I can type a keyword (be it "Texas Rangers" or "Bill Clinton") on Google News and go immediately to a long list of stories from a variety of news sources all across the country. I love that I can go to the Drudge Report and find links to political columnists on the right, the left and the Twilight Zone, not to mention the latest almost-verified gossip.

Still, I miss having a reason to walk barefooted out to my driveway each morning. I miss the smell of the ink on newsprint. I even miss the feel of the occasional soggy paper when it rains.

Most of all, I miss my friend.

(As most of you know, I still work for a newspaper, but it's a niche publication with dedicated readers strongly devoted to our mission of informing, inspiring and uniting Churches of Christ. The Christian Chronicle is a monthly newspaper with a Web site that offers breaking news and online exclusives. Our print edition, with 250,000 readers nationwide, continues to thrive, even as our online operation gains in stature and prominence. We are indeed blessed.)

State of the union: Deadlines and datelines (UPDATED)

This is a Nov. 16, 2008, updated version of the original post.

(from Bobby)

One of my goals as a journalist is to report from all 50 states and the District of Columbia.

In my three-plus years with The Christian Chronicle, I have had datelines (meaning I was THERE at the scene of the action) from 31 states and Washington, D.C.

Here is a state-by-state look at where I have reported from, including links to my favorite and/or most memorable story from each state.

Thanks for reading!

Alabama: Woman named Daphne puts her love into action (from Bayou La Batre, Ala.), published February 2008. Read the story here.

Alaska: I have never been to Alaska. I would love to go.

Arizona: Dry land, fertile soil: Arizona church experiences growth, growing pains (from Anthem, Ariz.), published October 2007. Read the story here.

Arkansas: Rural revival: Once-dying Arkansas congregation discovers new life (from Newport, Ark.), published April 2007. Read the story here.

California: Lift every voice and sing (from Malibu, Calif.), published July 2007. Read the story here.

Colorado: I have not reported from Colorado for the Chronicle, although I stayed in Cortez while doing a story on Navajo churches. Here's a link to one of my Oklahoman stories in Colorado.

Connecticut: Exodus Connecticut: Stamford church celebrates heritage while forging own path (from Stamford, Conn.), published June 2006. Read the story here.

Delaware: I have not been to Delaware yet.

District of Columbia: For congressman, faith provides a foundation (from Washington), published July 2007. Read the story here.

Florida: From the pulpit to the dugout (from Jupiter, Fla.), published March 2008. Read the story here.

Georgia: Addicts find hope, healing through recovery ministry (from Atlanta), published January 2008. Read the story here.

Hawaii: I am desperately trying to convince my boss of the need to do a story here.

Idaho: Tamie and I just returned home from Coeur d'Alene, where we spent time working on a future story on the Dalton Gardens church.

Illinois: A warm welcome in Windy City (from Chicago), published August 2006. Read the column here.

Indiana: Teens eager to show faith by serving (from Mitchell, Ind.), published August 2008. Read the story here.

Iowa: Have not reported from here -- yet.

Kansas: Churches minister to victims of divorce (from Overland Park, Kan.), published April 2008. Read the story here.

Kentucky: Ministers exchange Bibles at convention (from Louisville, Ky.), published August 2006. Read the story here.

Louisiana: Surviving the storm (from New Orleans), published September 2006. Read the story here.

Maine: New England's place of refuge, fellowship (from Raymond, Maine), published November 2008. Read the story here.

Maryland: Dialogue: A conversation with Kevin Bethea (from Baltimore), published January 2006. Read the interview here.

Massachusetts: I was blessed to visit with Kevin Wells at the Brookline church just a few miles from Fenway Park, but have not published a story yet.

Michigan: Race and the church: Getting beyond the handshake (from Southfield, Mich.), published October 2008. Read the story here.

Mississippi: Reporter shines light on state's dark past (from Jackson, Miss.), published August 2005. Read the story here.

Missouri: Courage under fire (from Clinton, Mo.), published September 2006. Read the story here.

Montana: Tamie and I visited with church members in Eureka, Mont., on our recent Northwest trip, and I am working on a story on this congregation made up of two families.

Nebraska: Haven't made it here.

Nevada: VIVA LAS VEGAS: Bright Angels work for Christ in Sin City (from Las Vegas), published August 2007. Read the story here.

New Hampshire: New England churches struggle to fill pulpits (from Manchester, N.H.), published December 2008. Read the story here.

New Jersey: N.J. church offers cheap gas, full-service ministry (from North Brunswick, N.J.), published August 2008. Read the story here.

New Mexico: Evangelizing the Navajo (from Waterflow, N.M.), published July 2006. Read the story here.

New York: Manhattan church reflects 'melting pot' nature of New York City (from New York), published July 2008. Read the story here.

North Carolina: Isn't that what it's all about? (from Wilkesboro, N.C.), published December 2006. Read the column here.

North Dakota: Still waiting for my first Dakota trip.

Ohio: Houseparents find satisfaction in anything-but-glamorous work (from Pleasant Point, Ohio), published December 2006. Read the story here.


Oklahoma: After 25 years, Mack Lyon keeps SEARCHING for the Lord's Way (from Edmond, Okla.), published September 2005. Read the story here.

Oregon: Haven't made it here yet.

Pennsylvania: Muslims, Hindus among students exposed to Jesus at Christian schools (from Pottstown, Pa.), published December 2007. Read the story here.

Rhode Island: I visited with Bruce Bates and his family Blackstone Valley church in Cumberland during my recent New England trip, but haven't published a story yet.

South Carolina: Haven't made it here either.

South Dakota: Still waiting for my first Dakota trip.

Tennessee: Minister's slaying, wife's arrest deal double tragedy (from Selmer, Tenn.), published May 2006. Read the story here.

Texas: Astros coach swings for the heavenly fences (from Houston), published October 2006. Read the story here.

Utah: I made it barely into Utah on my Navajo reporting trip, but did not do a story from here.

Vermont: I have not made it here.

Virginia: Virginia Tech massacre challenges young campus minister (from Blacksburg, Va.), published June 2007. Read the story here.

Washington: In times of war, caring for the families at home (from Spokane, Wash.), published December 2008. Read the story here.

West Virginia: God's house in a warehouse (from Parkersburg, W.Va.), published June 2008. Read the story here.

Wisconsin: I like cheese, but have not made it here yet.

Wyoming: Still waiting on my first trip here.

The price of gas in my hometown

Indians 15, Rangers 9 ... and still a ton of fun

We (heart) New York

UPDATE (June 20): I wrote my Inside Story column about our trip.

(from Bobby)

Dad traveled to the Big Apple on assignment. As a birthday present for an exceptional first 11 years (as of May 23), Keaton came along for the fun. (Thank you, Uncle Sam, for providing the funding for Keaton's ticket. We endeavored to stimulate the economy by contributing a nice chunk of change to Northwest Airlines for Keaton's ticket.)



We flew to NYC on Friday with a stop in Minneapolis-St. Paul. That night, we planned to meet some folks at the Manhattan Church of Christ, but we received a rude introduction to the New York subway -- in other words, we got lost. So, Friday's daylight hours were spent basically this way -- on planes, in a taxi from La Guardia Airport to the apartment where were staying, and on a series of subway trains that took us everywhere but where we wanted to go. We did end up at Wall Street and Broadway at one point -- and I took a picture of Keaton standing under a Wall Street sign. May this experience bless his future investments.




The highlight of Friday night was eating real New York pizza -- at a place called Luigi's just a few blocks from our (temporary) studio apartment. On Saturday morning, we got up bright and early prepared to beat the subway blues -- but our trip to Staten Island took us all the way to the Bronx -- the exact opposite end of the line we were on. By the time we made it back to Penn Square, it was close to noon and we bought our New Jersey Transit tickets to head to New Brunswick, N.J.., to interview church planters there that afternoon. (We made sure we were going the right way when we got on the train! Fortunately, the N.J. train only goes one way from Penn Station!)




After a great experience with the church planters (you'll have to read a future Chronicle for the details), we got back on the train and headed back to NYC. I won't mention leaving my ticket on the train bench or explain the momentary concern that my son and I were going to be kicked off the train. Because trust me, the story does not reflect well on the writer.



The good news is, we made it back to NYC in time to take another subway (the right one) out to the Staten Island Ferry and ride by the Statue of Liberty. I can tell you that seeing the statue for the first time was an amazing experience for Keaton and me.



On Sunday, we spent most of the day at the Manhattan church reporting on a future feature on the 30-plus nationalities represented at this diverse congregation. By about 3 p.m., poor Keaton had sat quietly through two days of boring (to an 11-year-old) interviews by Dad and was ready for some fun.



Fortunately for both of us, fun was in store. When I decided to bring Keaton with me, I checked into Yankees and Mets tickets. Since the Yankees were out of town and the Mets were at home, our choice was pretty easy. We got on eBay and bought two nosebleed tickets for $20 total (half the face value). I figured that with the experience of going to NYC and the other money we were spending, it made sense not to spend a lot of money on tickets.



But then our awesome neighbor Jeff, father of Keaton, Kendall and Brady's friend, Ian, found out we were going. Jeff knows a scout for the Dodgers, the Mets' opponent on Sunday night, and said he'd call his friend and see if he could get us some better seats. Did he ever!



Suffice it to say that Keaton and I picked up our tickets at a booth that said "Mets and Visiting Club Player Tickets." Our seats were just to the left of home plate only about 16 rows back. And by the late innings we moved down even further. Near the end of the game, a big group of folks left the very front rows ahead of us -- and we tried to slip down there. But a grumpy usher shook his head no and said, "You can't sit there. That's the owner's box." Well, apparently, the owner had left. So not sure why his seat has to stay empty for the ninth inning. :)



We're headed home now. We flew out of La Guardia to Memphis and are awaiting our connecting flight home. Much to Keaton's chagrin, we gave up our earlier flight when they offered $300 future travel vouchers to folks willing to wait for the later flight. So, here we are ...