Yes Birthdays in our family can come in bunches, myself, my Dad and now my beautiful wife! I am so thankful for Jeannie. I still can't believe that she picked me and chose to be married to me. I marvel at that all the time (along with a lot of our friends:). I always say without her I would be living in a van down by the river. She helps make me a better person and I cannot imagine my life without her. We have a lot of fun and share everything together. Thank you Jeannie for being my wife and have an amazing year you still look 23 there is no way you are 33:)
You always make me this happy!
Maggie Lou and Phoebe Jane
Friday, April 30, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
DAN CROSS IS 60!
My Dad is 60 Today!
This pics was taken right before he left on his cross country motorcycle trip. He is the one without the Dirty Sanchez Moustache. My Dad sported more of a western/ Magnum PI moustache most of his life and I always loved it. I am still pretty sure my Dad can beat up your Dad, and I think he still has the skills to teach me a lesson or two :). My Dad is very self less, he has always done and still does whatever he has to to provide for my Mom and our Family. My Dad didn't have any hook ups or free hand outs. He got to where he is today by working his ass off and taking care of business! My Dad always told me I could do whatever I wanted and has always believed in me and supported me. The only thing I ever wanted to do growing up was impress him. Even the past couple years when he has come to see me play music, I watch his eyes and face as I take the stage and see how proud he is of me. Thanks Dad for all of your love and support and for pushing me to do what I want to do, not what I have to do! Happy Birthday Pop, I love you
If you are reading this maybe you can take the time to tell your Dad thank you or tell someone a story you remember from your Dad or someone who is or was a father figure in your life.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Baseball
th following post is my attempt at becoming a baseball player, although when I look through Baseball through the eyes of my friend rich I can see the draw, I wish I could see it through his eyes and enjoy it , however, I see through my eyes and I am no fan of baseball!
Somewhere between Football seasons I decided I wanted to play baseball. Well I am not sure I wanted to play baseball but I definitely wanted the cool baseball hat with the letter of my team on it to wear to school. Another kid in my third grade class Jeff had a light blue baseball hat with a T on it, I think is stood for Tigers. I definitely wanted a cool hat. I also new that after every game you got a drink ticket! See today kids get a bucket of soda with free refills four times a day and I think we are moving to soft drink IV’s. However in the early 80’s soda was still hard to come by, I think a large soda when I was a kid was six ounces. Soda was like candy it was magical and you had no way of getting it yourself so anytime you could get your own soda and your choice of soda it was magnificent. So you got a drink ticket at the end of every baseball game and you got your choice of soda, but really there was only one cool choice… the SUICIDE. This is when they put a squirt of every flavor soda they had and mixed it all together. This was soda nirvana, this was the biggest treat my 9 year old mind could imagine, this and some big league chew baseball gum. If you have not experienced big league chew baseball gum you have not lived. This was the gum they designed specifically to look like chewing tobacco, it had the same pouch and you were supposed to pack your mouth full just like tobacco. We could pretend we were just like the big leaguers, Oh the days before political correctness.
So to some up my baseball inspiriation there was a hat, soda, and gum… and of course to get these things I needed to play baseball, PLAY BALL! So my parents signed me up and I went down to the jr. high with my Dad for practice. I realized a few things pretty quick. I couldn’t really hit the ball, I couldn’t really throw the ball and I was scared as hell to catch the ball, and I was chubby and not coordinated because I was growing so fast. In case you were wondering this is not the recipe for success. So I was the biggest kid and they made me the catcher. I was the catcher which means I should have caught the ball a lot , like after every pitch. However I was scared of the ball, so I realized it was much easier to dodge the ball , let it hit the back stop and then go pick it up and try and throw it to a base, my coach and my Dad did not think this was a good strategy. So my coach took me and the pitcher aside at practice and had me work on catching. “Keep your eye on the ball Matt!” , what does that mean anyway, so I lowered my glove and kept my eye on that ball, the pitcher threw it straight at me, I kept my eye on that ball, and for a 9 year old pitcher it was moving pretty fast. I watched the ball spin , saw the red stiches on the white ball, it got bigger and bigger , until the ball was stopped by my forehead, I went down hard. “What the hell was that!” the coach yelled in frustration and anger. I thought it was pretty obvious I was demonstrating the best eye on the ball technique he had ever seen. Somehow there was some miss communication. They moved me from catcher to left field, that is the Siberia of little league baseball, that is where they banish the kids with no hope, because no 9 year old is hitting the ball into the outfield.
Then there was batting. I was a little more excited about this but there was still that damn ball flying at you, but now at least I had a weapon. I don’t really remember that many hits or memorable occasions at bat except for one. My home run! ( or maybe a base hit but I am remembering it as a home run!) See I was a strong kid, I was definitely bigger than the rest and there were good odds that I would eventually connect with the ball. So that time did come. I don’t remember the game or the team we were playing but I remember the hit and the aftermath. The pitcher released the ball and it came straight down the lane (Is that even what they call it, sounds good though huh?) I kept my “eye on the ball” and swung that little louiville slugger as hard as I could and it connected. That was one of the best sounds the crack of the bat hitting the ball and if flew far and long. Now the next part was confussing because I hadn’t hit the ball that many times , in fact I don’t have any memory of ever hitting it before but I am sure I did. The first thought was “I better hold on to this bat!” which I later found out was a bad decision. The second thought was “which base do I run to?!” Now most kids may have already had this down but I was more concerned with how my Hat looked, when I was getting my soda, and where I put my big league chew. So right or left, which way do I run? There were two paths that diverged on the baseball field and I chose the left path, and it made all the difference…. Because it was the wrong path. So the big chubby 9 year old who was afraid to catch the ball took off with bat in hand running to third base first. So my whole team decided to cheer me on, and believe it or not 9 year olds are not really encouraging to each other, so the team decided to chant “Fat Matt, Fat Matt, as I ran the bases the wrong direction. That is pretty much the end of my memories of baseball. I don’t remember ever picking up a ball bat or glove again. I don’t remember the end of the season. I am sure I got my “thanks for participating” trophy! I had my hat and can still see the faces of all those other 9 years olds, up on the fence in the dug out, yelling “Fat Matt, fat Matt”……. I hate Baseball.
Somewhere between Football seasons I decided I wanted to play baseball. Well I am not sure I wanted to play baseball but I definitely wanted the cool baseball hat with the letter of my team on it to wear to school. Another kid in my third grade class Jeff had a light blue baseball hat with a T on it, I think is stood for Tigers. I definitely wanted a cool hat. I also new that after every game you got a drink ticket! See today kids get a bucket of soda with free refills four times a day and I think we are moving to soft drink IV’s. However in the early 80’s soda was still hard to come by, I think a large soda when I was a kid was six ounces. Soda was like candy it was magical and you had no way of getting it yourself so anytime you could get your own soda and your choice of soda it was magnificent. So you got a drink ticket at the end of every baseball game and you got your choice of soda, but really there was only one cool choice… the SUICIDE. This is when they put a squirt of every flavor soda they had and mixed it all together. This was soda nirvana, this was the biggest treat my 9 year old mind could imagine, this and some big league chew baseball gum. If you have not experienced big league chew baseball gum you have not lived. This was the gum they designed specifically to look like chewing tobacco, it had the same pouch and you were supposed to pack your mouth full just like tobacco. We could pretend we were just like the big leaguers, Oh the days before political correctness.
So to some up my baseball inspiriation there was a hat, soda, and gum… and of course to get these things I needed to play baseball, PLAY BALL! So my parents signed me up and I went down to the jr. high with my Dad for practice. I realized a few things pretty quick. I couldn’t really hit the ball, I couldn’t really throw the ball and I was scared as hell to catch the ball, and I was chubby and not coordinated because I was growing so fast. In case you were wondering this is not the recipe for success. So I was the biggest kid and they made me the catcher. I was the catcher which means I should have caught the ball a lot , like after every pitch. However I was scared of the ball, so I realized it was much easier to dodge the ball , let it hit the back stop and then go pick it up and try and throw it to a base, my coach and my Dad did not think this was a good strategy. So my coach took me and the pitcher aside at practice and had me work on catching. “Keep your eye on the ball Matt!” , what does that mean anyway, so I lowered my glove and kept my eye on that ball, the pitcher threw it straight at me, I kept my eye on that ball, and for a 9 year old pitcher it was moving pretty fast. I watched the ball spin , saw the red stiches on the white ball, it got bigger and bigger , until the ball was stopped by my forehead, I went down hard. “What the hell was that!” the coach yelled in frustration and anger. I thought it was pretty obvious I was demonstrating the best eye on the ball technique he had ever seen. Somehow there was some miss communication. They moved me from catcher to left field, that is the Siberia of little league baseball, that is where they banish the kids with no hope, because no 9 year old is hitting the ball into the outfield.
Then there was batting. I was a little more excited about this but there was still that damn ball flying at you, but now at least I had a weapon. I don’t really remember that many hits or memorable occasions at bat except for one. My home run! ( or maybe a base hit but I am remembering it as a home run!) See I was a strong kid, I was definitely bigger than the rest and there were good odds that I would eventually connect with the ball. So that time did come. I don’t remember the game or the team we were playing but I remember the hit and the aftermath. The pitcher released the ball and it came straight down the lane (Is that even what they call it, sounds good though huh?) I kept my “eye on the ball” and swung that little louiville slugger as hard as I could and it connected. That was one of the best sounds the crack of the bat hitting the ball and if flew far and long. Now the next part was confussing because I hadn’t hit the ball that many times , in fact I don’t have any memory of ever hitting it before but I am sure I did. The first thought was “I better hold on to this bat!” which I later found out was a bad decision. The second thought was “which base do I run to?!” Now most kids may have already had this down but I was more concerned with how my Hat looked, when I was getting my soda, and where I put my big league chew. So right or left, which way do I run? There were two paths that diverged on the baseball field and I chose the left path, and it made all the difference…. Because it was the wrong path. So the big chubby 9 year old who was afraid to catch the ball took off with bat in hand running to third base first. So my whole team decided to cheer me on, and believe it or not 9 year olds are not really encouraging to each other, so the team decided to chant “Fat Matt, Fat Matt, as I ran the bases the wrong direction. That is pretty much the end of my memories of baseball. I don’t remember ever picking up a ball bat or glove again. I don’t remember the end of the season. I am sure I got my “thanks for participating” trophy! I had my hat and can still see the faces of all those other 9 years olds, up on the fence in the dug out, yelling “Fat Matt, fat Matt”……. I hate Baseball.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
The Highlight of Matt Cross' Sports Career
Growing up it seemed like all of us were told we are special. We were told that we were smart and talented, artistic creative and athletic. Whe just needed to work hard and we could do anything. If I came home with a bad report card I was always told it was because I didn’t work hard enough or I didn’t try hard enough. If I didn’t win a little league game I was told I could win next time if I just worked harder. I was told to work hard, yet we got trophies and ribbons just for participating. There were those extremely athletic kids that were always good and got the first place ribbon, you know who he or she was, it is different at every school in every town. Then there were the rest of us, who weren’t good enough but they didn’t want to discourage us or tell us we were no good so we got the participation ribbon. How sad is that.”Hey kid thanks for having your parents sign you up for this activity, and thanks for standing there, you did so well at that, here is a ribbon. Thanks for that , I think that has some how affected my work ethic as an adult, I just expect to stand there and if you stand there long enough someone will give you a ribbon or a paycheck. Sometimes we just aren’t that special. Sometimes we are just plain bad at something. Sometimes we don’t ever reach that potential.
I was a huge kid. Not sure exactly the measurements at birth but for the first 12 years of my life I was ALWAYS bigger than the other kids. Everyone would always say “ wow wait till that kid plays football!” I would hear people tell my Dad “I wouldn’t want your grocery bill!”. “What an athlete that kid is gonna be!” “ He is huge!”. So yeah It was drilled into me, you are big, you will like sports, you will eat a lot of food. I was never really an aggressive or competitive kid. I was always pretty sensitive. I was scared of the dark, I didn’t like rough housing, I didn’t want to wrestle, I pretty much avoided anything with adrenaline!
I was a sensitive kid that didn’t like adrenaline but I loved Disneyland. Disneyland was the symbol of magic and imagination to me as a kid and I was always in awe of it. I think a lot of kids like it for the rides and excitement but I loved it for the imagination and creativity which explains a lot now. I like looking at the castle and the minature villages in storybook land ride and going on all the dark rides like peter pan and mr. Toads wild ride but I dreaded the thought of a ROLLER COASTER. To some people the Matterhorn was the symbol of Disneyland, to me it was child hood hell! I would never never go on a roller coaster. My Dad once convinced me to go on Thunder Mountain and said if I didn’t like it I could punch him in the stomach (What? I should have held out for a free toy or something!) I went on and at the end of that horrific experience I punched my Dad as hard as I could. I didn’t want to be flung around and dropped at high speed or in the dark, or through some loop. I just wanted to sit and watch and take in the magic. That made pirates of the Carribean so hard for me. I loved the pirates, but to get to that part of the ride there were to HUGE drops (I have gone as an adult and realize how pathetic those drops really are) but once I got through it I knew I would see the crazy drunken, spazmatic animatronics that made the pirate world come alive to me. I loved it but I am pretty sure the original lyrics to the pirate song talk about pilage and rape, and you were supposed to take a wench. Nice Walt nice! The point being I was not into adrenaline and physical stimulus. I was a delicate sensitive creative flower, living in a world of imagination, kind of a wuss packed into the body of a lineman.
I liked other kids but didn’t want to compete, I just wanted to be the center of attention. I like talking and socializing and being liked by other kids. I loved when people laughed at what I did. I was conditioned though, I was told I was born to play sports because I was big, my Dad played sports, other boys played sport, other boys loved sports, I was about to discover my potential as an athlete.
I can sum up the high point of my sports career right here. I was 11 years old, I was playing in a youth flag football league. Flag football was for all the kids whose Mom’s thought tackle was too dangerous but Dad really wanted you to play football, or where you put your sensitive kid to try it out before he broke an arm in junior tackle football. You had a belt with two Velcro flags stuck to them and you weren’t really supposed to have any contact. Instead of tackling you would run up and pull the flag off. Seemed simple enough. Surprise I wasn’t the quarter back, nope line man. I know hard to believe. I don’t think there was a kid on my team who’s head came past my shoulder. I remember asking when I was going to get the ball and the coach saying,”Matt you don’t really need to worry about the ball, unless you see someone with it then pull there flag.” Now lineman may have been fun if I were playing tackle football. All kids like to be rough and tumble knock each other around right? but this is a non-contact safe version of football, so basically you take the big chubby kid tell him to stand there so kids will bounce off of you as they run and try and take the flag. I was a glorified pinball bumper, an obstacle for the other kids to run around and through. So this was my exciting introduction to competitive sports. My favorite part was snack at half time. I knew I was getting orange slices and a small plastic bottle of purple juice ,anyone who played kids sports knows the plastic bottle with purple juice, I am not sure I have ever seen it in the store. I don’t even think it had a flavor except some sugary bastardized grape flavor. It is the tiny grenade bottle of juice made with cheap plastic and every kid sucked it down like it was the antidote to some poison that they had recently ingested, because of the round lid it always left a purple half circle on your face like a crazy clown on acid. And because of the toxicity of the drink and the rough plastic edeges it almost always gave you cold sore like abrasions on the side of your mouth. It is probably the major source of cancer in the people of my generation.
So the highligt of my sports career happened this same season. I was on the Vikings. I was playing a defensive line position, guard tackle, nose guard, ultimate warrior, who cares ( I now despise sports , sorry men). Any way I broke through the line of offensive linemen (which was fairly easy because at 11 years old I was 5’5 and about 175 lbs) the quarter back got scared and threw the ball straight up in the air. When it came down it landed in my hands. I didn’t know what the hell to do with it. We never covered this scenario! I wasn’t supposed to touch the ball, or worry about the ball. I was just supposed to be the bumper to slow down the other team. I looked to the side line and my coach was jumping up and down waving his arms yelling “run Matt RUN!” I looked to the other side and my Dad was doing the same thing. I ran as fast and as straight as I could. I closed my eyes hard waiting to feel my flag get pulled from my belt but it didn’t. I made it to the endzone and scored a touch down! I was so stoked my team all jumped on me patting me on the back. I was on top of the world. All I really cared about was if Jennifer Jarrett (a Chearleader for one of the teams on the field) saw me! It was at that point that I knew I wanted to be the center of attention and that I would do just about anything to get noticed by girls. I loved this! everyone praising me. I was the man of the hour, the hero to our little team. I wanted more of this glory! I mean come on who wouldn’t! Unfortunately that was the hightlight of my athletic carreer. It pretty much went down hill from there. And no , Jennifer did not notice me
Years later my brother would replicate that very same play except in a high school game, playing legitimate tackle football! It was really cool and really exciting high school football and of course after it happened I tried to relive some of my glory! “ Hey remember when I was a 11 and I did that yeah I know exactly how Steve feels!” I know pretty sad and pathetic, but I love being the center of attention and I tried to tag onto Steve’s moment. Sorry Steve you were way more impressive!
I was a huge kid. Not sure exactly the measurements at birth but for the first 12 years of my life I was ALWAYS bigger than the other kids. Everyone would always say “ wow wait till that kid plays football!” I would hear people tell my Dad “I wouldn’t want your grocery bill!”. “What an athlete that kid is gonna be!” “ He is huge!”. So yeah It was drilled into me, you are big, you will like sports, you will eat a lot of food. I was never really an aggressive or competitive kid. I was always pretty sensitive. I was scared of the dark, I didn’t like rough housing, I didn’t want to wrestle, I pretty much avoided anything with adrenaline!
I was a sensitive kid that didn’t like adrenaline but I loved Disneyland. Disneyland was the symbol of magic and imagination to me as a kid and I was always in awe of it. I think a lot of kids like it for the rides and excitement but I loved it for the imagination and creativity which explains a lot now. I like looking at the castle and the minature villages in storybook land ride and going on all the dark rides like peter pan and mr. Toads wild ride but I dreaded the thought of a ROLLER COASTER. To some people the Matterhorn was the symbol of Disneyland, to me it was child hood hell! I would never never go on a roller coaster. My Dad once convinced me to go on Thunder Mountain and said if I didn’t like it I could punch him in the stomach (What? I should have held out for a free toy or something!) I went on and at the end of that horrific experience I punched my Dad as hard as I could. I didn’t want to be flung around and dropped at high speed or in the dark, or through some loop. I just wanted to sit and watch and take in the magic. That made pirates of the Carribean so hard for me. I loved the pirates, but to get to that part of the ride there were to HUGE drops (I have gone as an adult and realize how pathetic those drops really are) but once I got through it I knew I would see the crazy drunken, spazmatic animatronics that made the pirate world come alive to me. I loved it but I am pretty sure the original lyrics to the pirate song talk about pilage and rape, and you were supposed to take a wench. Nice Walt nice! The point being I was not into adrenaline and physical stimulus. I was a delicate sensitive creative flower, living in a world of imagination, kind of a wuss packed into the body of a lineman.
I liked other kids but didn’t want to compete, I just wanted to be the center of attention. I like talking and socializing and being liked by other kids. I loved when people laughed at what I did. I was conditioned though, I was told I was born to play sports because I was big, my Dad played sports, other boys played sport, other boys loved sports, I was about to discover my potential as an athlete.
I can sum up the high point of my sports career right here. I was 11 years old, I was playing in a youth flag football league. Flag football was for all the kids whose Mom’s thought tackle was too dangerous but Dad really wanted you to play football, or where you put your sensitive kid to try it out before he broke an arm in junior tackle football. You had a belt with two Velcro flags stuck to them and you weren’t really supposed to have any contact. Instead of tackling you would run up and pull the flag off. Seemed simple enough. Surprise I wasn’t the quarter back, nope line man. I know hard to believe. I don’t think there was a kid on my team who’s head came past my shoulder. I remember asking when I was going to get the ball and the coach saying,”Matt you don’t really need to worry about the ball, unless you see someone with it then pull there flag.” Now lineman may have been fun if I were playing tackle football. All kids like to be rough and tumble knock each other around right? but this is a non-contact safe version of football, so basically you take the big chubby kid tell him to stand there so kids will bounce off of you as they run and try and take the flag. I was a glorified pinball bumper, an obstacle for the other kids to run around and through. So this was my exciting introduction to competitive sports. My favorite part was snack at half time. I knew I was getting orange slices and a small plastic bottle of purple juice ,anyone who played kids sports knows the plastic bottle with purple juice, I am not sure I have ever seen it in the store. I don’t even think it had a flavor except some sugary bastardized grape flavor. It is the tiny grenade bottle of juice made with cheap plastic and every kid sucked it down like it was the antidote to some poison that they had recently ingested, because of the round lid it always left a purple half circle on your face like a crazy clown on acid. And because of the toxicity of the drink and the rough plastic edeges it almost always gave you cold sore like abrasions on the side of your mouth. It is probably the major source of cancer in the people of my generation.
So the highligt of my sports career happened this same season. I was on the Vikings. I was playing a defensive line position, guard tackle, nose guard, ultimate warrior, who cares ( I now despise sports , sorry men). Any way I broke through the line of offensive linemen (which was fairly easy because at 11 years old I was 5’5 and about 175 lbs) the quarter back got scared and threw the ball straight up in the air. When it came down it landed in my hands. I didn’t know what the hell to do with it. We never covered this scenario! I wasn’t supposed to touch the ball, or worry about the ball. I was just supposed to be the bumper to slow down the other team. I looked to the side line and my coach was jumping up and down waving his arms yelling “run Matt RUN!” I looked to the other side and my Dad was doing the same thing. I ran as fast and as straight as I could. I closed my eyes hard waiting to feel my flag get pulled from my belt but it didn’t. I made it to the endzone and scored a touch down! I was so stoked my team all jumped on me patting me on the back. I was on top of the world. All I really cared about was if Jennifer Jarrett (a Chearleader for one of the teams on the field) saw me! It was at that point that I knew I wanted to be the center of attention and that I would do just about anything to get noticed by girls. I loved this! everyone praising me. I was the man of the hour, the hero to our little team. I wanted more of this glory! I mean come on who wouldn’t! Unfortunately that was the hightlight of my athletic carreer. It pretty much went down hill from there. And no , Jennifer did not notice me
Years later my brother would replicate that very same play except in a high school game, playing legitimate tackle football! It was really cool and really exciting high school football and of course after it happened I tried to relive some of my glory! “ Hey remember when I was a 11 and I did that yeah I know exactly how Steve feels!” I know pretty sad and pathetic, but I love being the center of attention and I tried to tag onto Steve’s moment. Sorry Steve you were way more impressive!
Welcome
Hello to all, I am really wondering if anyone is going to check this out. Okay maybe a few of you will but I am excited to give you something else to do to help you waste your time. I know my wife will be really excited that I have found something else to do to waste my time.
A warning to all - Friends, Family, kids who used to be in my youth group, co- workers. This is going to be the true inter ravings and thouhts of Matt Cross. Feel free to read share comment. However procede at your own risk. Also, my grammar is Bad, let's go ahead and get used to it!!
I look forward to sharing with you and hearing from you.
Matt
A warning to all - Friends, Family, kids who used to be in my youth group, co- workers. This is going to be the true inter ravings and thouhts of Matt Cross. Feel free to read share comment. However procede at your own risk. Also, my grammar is Bad, let's go ahead and get used to it!!
I look forward to sharing with you and hearing from you.
Matt
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