Ladies and gentlemen, tonight's All You Can Nate Special will feature a, uh, special feature. We've got more pictures than you can shake a stick at this evening. But first, as always, everyone is entitled to my opinion. So let's get to it.

The weather ended up quite agreeable on this day, August 14 in the Year of Our Lord 2007. Generally, I think talking about the weather is kind of boring, but given how hot and muggy it has been lately, today brought a welcome change. I went for my usual walk in the park but barely broke a sweat despite my brisk pace. Some of this, I realize, is accounted for by the fact that I am a unique physical specimen, but even so, the relative coolness had to play some part.

Anyway, I was listening to some of my favorite tunes, and on the last leg of the walk, Joe Satriani's "Summer Song" played in the rotation. For those of you unfamiliar with Joe Satriani, his electric guitar stylings are marked by a fast, upbeat, and inspirational sound. "Summer Song" is no exception. When I hear it, it makes me want to jump in my car, put the pedal to the metal (as they say) and either race to greet the rising sun or chase the same in such a way that it never sets. Just imagine what you'd see, living your life in such a way.

But you know, despite how enjoyable the song is, I realized that barring some major changes, my opportunity to do such things has long passed me by. It was so easy to while away my time back when I was in college, thinking that there would always be opportunities for adventure when I was older. But suddenly, I am older. Instead of adventure, though, I find responsibilities and obligations. Mind you, and don't lament this. I love my life, and I especially love the people in it. I guess I just think it's important to make the most of our todays and stop yearning for the tomorrows. Because eventually we'll run out of both.

Bah. What am I saying? I'm sounding like some hippie bumper sticker. Why didn't you stop me? That's your job, you know. Besides, Time holds no sway over me. I do what I want.

This weekend brought some excellent news for three of my closest friends. Mike earned his Master's Degree in chemical engineering, which he worked long and hard for these past couple years. I couldn't be more proud of him. :)

And, check this out: Ted and Kelly and Brad and Beth got engaged! Actually, Brad popped the question on Tuesday in Estes Park (he couldn't call anyone from there), and Ted pulled the trigger here in Lincoln. Isn't that awesome? I can still remember when the three of us moved into a duplex together as UNL students back in August of 2000. I can't believe how fast the years went by. Almost a lifetime ago.

Yep, a lot can change in that amount of time. However, for the four of us, one thing remains eternal: our undying love for Husker football! I'm so stoked for this season to begin. I saw a bit of the Husker Century series on TBS, and that just makes the feeling even more intense.

Truly, I pity those of you that aren't Husker fans and have never experienced a home game. It's one of the most glorious, overwhelming experiences you in which you could ever take part. It all starts on the Friday evening before the game. You return home from work, get cleaned up, and then meet your friends. Some of them you see regularly, and some of them have traveled to Lincoln from out of state. You greet each other warmly, and then spend the evening enjoying each other's company. Maybe you go out to eat and then to a bar, or perhaps you'll just stay home, drink some beers together, and get ready for the next day's festivities.

The following morning, you wake up early, because after all, tailgates don't set themselves up. After cleaning up and dressing in the red shirt you made sure was clean the night before, you eat a quick breakfast and do as you must to prepare for departure. With all the supplies loaded, you gather the other early-rising faithful and go to pick up that last, most crucial artifact: a keg. Once it's in hand, your natural destination is a parking lot somewhere near Memorial Stadium. The keg is tapped, the tailgate set up, and you just take a moment to kick back and enjoy the moment--and, of course, discuss the various ways the upcoming game will result in a Husker victory.

As the hours go by, more and more people arrive at the tailgate, and consequently, more food appears for you to consume. (Especially Mike's beer-butt chickens.) In the distance, you here drums, and moving closer to Memorial (and the smell of Runzas and Fairbury Brand hot dogs), you see the Pride of All Nebraska Marching Band on their procession into the stadium. Maybe you'll even wait at the South Stadium entrance to greet the team as they arrive, a tradition that began during Bill Callahan's first year as head coach.

At long last, you enter the stadium. After a quick pit stop at the restroom, it's time to take your seat, and you impatiently wait in line to enter the arena. Your time to step through the opening finally comes, and as you walk out into the open, an entire sea of people garbed in red roars its greeting. Taking your seat, you watch the marching band play their traditional tunes, shouting "Go Big Red" as appropriate, and glancing toward the clock Eventually, the cheerleaders and the Scarletts take the center of the field, leading the fans in a deafening chant: HUSKER. . .POWER!!!!!!!

Suddenly, the deep thrum of the opening chords to The Alan Parson Project's "Sirius" moves throughout the stadium, so much so that you feel it in your very soul. Tears well up in your eyes and goosebumbs arise on your arms as you turn to the Husker Vision screens to see clips of past triumphs, and ultimately, the current team proceeding out of the locker room and toward the field. As the team rushes the field, the crowd's roar reaches a fever pitch. You're roaring right along with them, as loud as you possibly can, but can't even hear yourself. Gameday is truly here, the game about to begin. You know in your heart that you're here as part of something special, and all is right in the world. God bless the Husker Nation.

Wow, I got carried away there, didn't I? I'm not sorry, though, and I'm not apologizing. It's getting late, so I suppose I had better get to those pictures, hadn't I?


First off, here's a picture of Angie and I from the tubing trip back in June. Note our sweet bandanas. Incidentally, this pic was taken on my 27th birthday.


Here's our whole group. We took a group shot at the same spot the year before. This time, though, Angie has joined the group, but Beth is missing. Renee hooked me up with this shot and the previous one.


Here's an old picture from Mike and Jana's rehearsal dinner. I'm on the right, obviously--about 60-70 pounds more of me than exists today.


I think I got this picture from Jason. It was taken way back in January at Slapshots. As I recall, we were attending a birthday party for one of Beth's friends. I went back to Fairbury the next day, a Sunday, and spent an excellent afternoon with Matt's family, despite the sad occasion of his grandma's funeral. Also, that next day was the day I set up my first date with Angie. :)

The following are some pictures from my second cousin Nicki's wedding several months ago:


Alex and Drew, my cousins, enjoying a beverage. Punch, by the appearance of things. Alex wasn't quite 21 by that point yet, I don't think.


My aunt Brenda's daughters, from left to right, Meghan, Mollie, and Madlyn. Doesn't look like Mollie knew about the bunny ears.


A vintage picture of my brother Tom. I doubt I need to explain what he was trying to accomplish with the fork.


A profile shot of myself. Take note of what an excellent job I did of tying my necktie.


Here is a shot of my siblings and I on Easter morning.


My brother Ross and I celebrate our birthdays together. He turned 20. We took the 0 out after a picture and replaced it with a 7. As you can see, we had to hold the candles up. Note my sweet Hawaiian shirt.


Here is Ross in Nancy's car as we drove to Sunday lunch after church one day. You might think that he's making faces in all his pictures, but that's actually just the way his face looks.


Ted and I sitting at Tom's college graduation party.


From left to right, Joel, Angie's brother-in-law (husband to Amy); Frank, Angie's dad; Brad, Angie's brother-in-law (husband to Gwen); and myself at the Seward Fourth of July Parade. The people behind us are of little consequence, as we don't know who they are.


Angie and I at the parade.


Angie took this picture of my immediate family on Father's Day.


I'm playing catch in Amy and Joel's back yard with Caden, Angie's nephew (son of Gaynelle and Chad). This was during the July 3 party.


Halle, sleeping on the floor and moving one of her legs at mach speed.


Here's is one of the twin end tables my dad made for me as a birthday present. Isn't that awesome?


This is my grandpa. He's sleeping.


Here's a picture I took of an ostrich at the zoo a few weeks ago. There are giraffe's in the background.


Here's a picture of an elephant's butt. You'll have to zero in on your own, as I was too lazy to crop the picture this evening.

Well, it's getting late, so I'd say that's enough pictures for this evening. There'll be more down the line, of course. I'll also talk about bowling league, because I forgot to do that again. And now, a haiku.

Let's go to the mall.
They sell a lot of crap there.
But people buy it.

Time to lay my weary head to rest. Watch out for those man-eating jack rabbits and that killer cacti.

Cordially Keeping Hope Alive,

Nate

Back again. At least you didn't have to wait an entire month this time around, suprisingly enough. I'm not going to do so much of a recap tonight. Instead, I'm just going to ramble on about whatever I happen to be thinking.

I got back from a walk in Pioneer's Park less than an hour ago. It was almost 100 degrees outside, but I'm glad I went as I haven't been to the gym yet this week. (Although, generally speaking, I have been pretty good about hitting the gym a few mornings every week.) I brought my MP3 player with me. Man, do I love that thing. It's kind of amazing how music can change your perspective on everything. Depending on what's playing, you may find an extra spring in your step. . .or that you're plodding along in boots of lead. For instance, Guns'N'Roses' version of "Hair Of The Dog" makes me want to strut. When I hear it, my face reflexively takes on a smirk and I feel as though I can get away with pretty much anything. Likewise, when Cher songs such as "If I Could Turn Back Time" play over the company muzak system on a Monday morning, I feel sapped of my will to live.

This pondering has me wondering if some kind of perfect song exists out there in the ether. One that, when played, could elicit whatever emotions the player desired the audience to feel. Sort of a "Pied Piper Of Hamlin" effect. If I wasn't so lazy, I'd work on discovering such a tune. But don't worry; if I did find it, I'd only use my powers for good. :)

Really, though, I don't think I'm too terribly lazy. If I was, well, I'd have more time to write in this blog. Most of my evenings, I usually have something going on. Mondays are usually reserved for lifting weights and walking in the park. On Tuesday evening, I have bowling league with Mike, Tom, and Andrew (a really good time, I might add, but more on that later). Wednesdays are generally reserved for exercise and spending time with Angie. On Thursdays, I go watch Angie play sand volleyball at Spikes on a team with my friends Jen and Cam. Friday through Sunday are filled with the myriad things that always consume weekends.

This past weekend, though, was lovely in that nothing was going on. Angie and I spent most of Friday at the hospital awaiting news on her grandmother's surgery. (She took a fall and broke her leg, but the surgery went just fine.) On Saturday, though, we just took it easy, poking around the Nebraska Bookstore and then renting some movies later on. And I cooked dinner.

I wasn't joking, either. I did make our dinner, and it didn't turn out too bad. I followed a stirfry recipe that I found in Men's Fitness last month. It had a lot of ingredients. . .enough that I realized that I had forgotten a few crucial ones as I started preparing the meal. So, I made a frantic trip to the grocery store to pick up soy sauce. Later, I realized that I didn't have corn starch, but we simply did without because I was past the point of no return in terms of cooking the ingredients. It was pretty good, I thought, and neither of us got sick. So we'll count that as a cooking victory for me. I'll also add that up to that point, I had never cooked for anyone before. Nor did I ever feel compelled to do so, until Angie came along. Just thought I'd throw that out there. ;)

On Sunday afternoon, I went with the twins and Aubrie to visit their grandma in the hospital. It was good to visit her again, but I felt bad for her because she was clearly uncomfortable in the hospital. But seeing Aubrie sure did cheer her up. That's what the Aubrie Effect is all about, after all. Ha! Grandma Vera did remember me, too, for the most part, from our visit to her place in York a few months ago. She told me I was a very pretty young man. :) I think seeing her family did her a lot of good. I wish her a speedy recovery.

I've had a really bizarre dream a week or two ago that merits a mention here. I dreamed that I was in a sinking ship of some kind, or a room that was partially submerged, at any rate. There was a huge great white shark (think "Jaws") that was eating the people in the room, one by one. It was down to myself and a lady who I didn't know. It got a hold of her and started to pull her under. I told her to rip the shark's eye out. She did, but it still ended up eating her. Then it got a hold of me, so I killed it by reaching into its gills and tearing it apart, as one is wont to do when attacked by a great white shark.

I don't know why I end up fighting for my life in so many of my dreams. I guess that's the price you pay for a vivid imagination.

More recently, I dreamed that Bill Callahan hired me as part of his staff of assistants for the Huskers, and later, that I attended a Big XII coaches convention. This, of course, was undoubtedly born of my unconscious longing for the upcoming football season.

It's almost here! In about three weeks, the Huskers will play their first game of the season, against Louisiana Tech. I'm really optimistic about this season. We've got a good shot at winning the Big XII North, and, who knows, maybe even the whole conference. It has been a lot of fun reading up on the Huskers Illustrated Web site about the summer practices, recruiting efforts, etc. The departure of Harrison Beck and Zack Bowman's season-ending injury definitely stung, but we'll recover. Bowman will heal and be back next year (barring a departure for the NFL), and Beck is already to be replaced with a promising JUCO QB that was one of the Elite 11 back in 2004.

I could undoubtedly write a lot more about the college football season tonight, but I'm going to hold off before I get too carried away.

And now for some cool news about Dad. Somehow, this past weekend, he got roped into racing mini-trucks (like Rangers, S10s, etc. I think.) at the Jefferson County fairgrounds. And he won! Not that I'm surprised, mind you. Dad used to race a lot when he was in his 20's. Up until I was about 6, he had a really souped-up Mustang that he kept covered up in our machine shed, which was specifically a race car. Its roar could strike fear into the hearts of men. But I digress. Anyway, Dad was really humble in recounting the race to me, but he did mention that he only used his brakes once. ;) I wish I could've been there to see it.

Well, I think I'm going to cut this short tonight, as it's time for bed. I do have a lot of pictures I want to share, but they'll wait until next time. I'll leave you with a haiku.

Football season rules.
I adore the Cornhuskers.
Kansas State sucks a lot.

And now you know that. Stay classy, but above all, Keep Hope Alive.

Love,
Nate