Editors note: The three hottest stories coming out of the Nashville area. These stories have been hand-selected due to the importance of the community. This is absolutely not a spinoff of The Onion — the only similarities are the general story ideas, the way they are written, and the format.
“Everybody has to have a hometown, Binghamton’s mine. In the strangely brittle, terribly sensitive make-up of a human being, there is a need for a place to hang a hat or a kind of geographical womb to crawl back into, or maybe just a place that’s familiar because that’s where you grew up.
“When I dig back through memory cells, I get one particularly distinctive feeling—and that’s one of warmth, comfort and well-being. For whatever else I may have had, or lost, or will find—I’ve still got a hometown. This, nobody’s gonna take away from me.”
—Rod Serling Read more
Today we are pumped to have a new guest contributor in Jonathan Schneck. Jonathan is the Director of New Media Innovations for the ACLJ/BeHeardProject. He is the non-touring, semi retired, guitarist for the Grammy Nominated band Relient K. He has a Marketing Degree from Liberty University and lives in Nashville, TN, with his wife and three children. He is also the first contributor to The Wise Guise with a verified Twitter account.
Mr. Bay, sir, do you really have to ‘transform’ everything? Even their faces? I’ll come back to this… Read more
It’s tough to express feelings about D-Day as someone who was born over 40 years after June 6, 1944. Most historians refer to it as a turning point in western civilization. When I think of D-Day, I think of images. The opening scene of Saving Private Ryan. My visit to the eerily peaceful beach in spring 2010. But I also think of words – FDR’s D-Day prayer over the radio, General Eisenhower’s speech to his men, and more.
I’ve made it somewhat of a tradition here at The Wise Guise to commemorate D-Day with a reflective post. I’d urge you to read my best friend Jay Salato’s post from two years ago reflecting on the speech he had the opportunity to give at the commemorative ceremony at the U.S. Memorial Cemetery at Omaha Beach. Then, I’d urge you to re-visit my post from last year and listen to/read FDR’s prayer and Ike’s speech.
This year, I want to share two more pieces of history that I’ve recently found to continue the impossible task of commemorating the courage and sacrifice of those men who charged Normandy Beach.
We all fall victim to the green-eyed monster. It has plagued mankind since the beginning of time. In fact, you might be surprised to learn that the first reference the green-eyed monster dates back hundreds of years to Shakespeare’s Othello.
O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-ey’d monster, which doth mock. The meat it feeds on.
As I am not a geneticist or a psychologist, I won’t go so far as to say that the human race is genetically predisposed to ‘keep up with the Joneses;’ however, I don’t believe I’ve ever met anyone that was immune to jealousy. Most times, being envious of a friend, family member, or co-worker is nothing to fret. We all do it…my wife gets jealous when her friends post pictures of recent vacations on Facebook, my brother is envious of his friends that don’t have to worry about paying out-of-pocket for college, and you were probably jealous of the guy driving the new Cadillac ELR that pulled up next to you at the red light this morning on your way to work. Read more
In August of 2008, I embarked on a journey that irrevocably changed the heartbeat of my family. It was then that I boarded an airplane in Nashville bound for a rural village in Africa. I would be living and working at a village for children orphaned by AIDS. I was leaving a few months after graduating from Vanderbilt to live at Lily of the Valley for a year. Fully realizing the idealism with which I traveled, I hoped that somehow my naivete would be transformed into what James talked about in Chapter 1, Verse 27 of his epistle – “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.”
While at Lily, I met a small malnourished boy named Aphiwe. Aphiwe was a sweet five year old little boy who was very sick. He had come to Lily only several months earlier and was a virtual loner. Every morning he would sit outside the window of my room, tending the dirt in my flower bed.