Chris Janson’s tattoos

Chris Janson has made his mark on country music with hits like “Buy Me A Boat” and “Fix A Drink,” but the singer/songwriter also has a bit of country marked on him. The Missouri-native has a tattoo of the 24th state admitted to the union, Missouri, tattooed on the inside of his left arm. Georgia, as corrected in the comments below. Take a look.

 


Here are a few of his other tattoos. Photo credits are in the captions. Also check out Nathaniel Rateliff’s tattoos here.

 


The tattoo on the inside of his right arm says, “He who has the Son has life.” Confirmed in his interview here.

And finally, here are screen shots from his music videos, all via his YouTube channel.

 

Who’s the dude in Ingrid Andress “More Hearts Than Mine” music video… and more info!

-Out of the Wilderness

 

 

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Crawfish to Bridge One, a story about running

Ever since the trip to Missouri where my brother and I ran 5Ks and worked out almost every day, he and I have gotten back into running, me in Nashville and him in Orlando. I can’t really speak for him in regards to how much he’s running but I lace up maybe 3 or 4 times a week now. I have a goal and a secret goal (which means you can’t say a word about it!). The very public goal that you can talk to your co-workers and friends about is defeating my personal 5K record of 19 minutes and 42 seconds, set 11 years ago. The more I run now, it feels like that was way back when dreams were possible. OK, here’s the secret goal that you can only mumble to yourself when you’re alone in the closet… my secret goal is that I want to beat my brother. He’s been more athletic than me forever (again, never ever admit to anyone under any circumstance that I said any of this), so when I can beat him at something, I take the time to relish it like you’d do if you were taking a bath in strawberry jelly. Really enjoy every second of it, and maybe make a sandwich if you have some peanut butter lying around.

Here’s a clip of my bro and I running in Missouri back in July…

I’ve got to train for the day when he runs a 5K under 22, then under 21, then under 20. The only way I know how is to get out there and run!

So I have a few landmarks I’d like to hit. The first, and it’s proving to be difficult, is to break the 22-minute mark on a 3.1-mile run. Just yesterday I had my best time at 22:11. I’m not afraid to admit my disappointment. I was disappointed, there I said it. It felt like biting into a fresh homemade peanut butter and jelly sandwich, like, you used the good peanut butter and everything, only to realize there’s no peanut butter on it at all. Total downer.

But something good came out of the run yesterday. I did well with a silly strategy I’ve used in the past: pick two points along the path and between the two, run faster. After the second point, slow back down to a cruise pace. The plan is to widen the gaps in those points the more I train. Yesterday the two points were a sign about crawfish (I was running alongside a creek) and a bridge, so that’s where the title of this blog came from. I conversed with myself, maybe I can’t keep a 6-minute mile pace the whole time, but I can do it from crawfish to bridge one, right?

Right.

I haven’t broken the 22-minute 5K yet but I’ll be sure to post more as I get closer to that landmark moment, and hopefully eventually accomplishing my goal and my secret goal (shhhhhh!)… so here’s to training and running and reaching goals and brothers and pb&J sandwiches!

-Out of the Wilderness

In the name of love…

I heard a saying recently: “Days go by slow but weeks go by fast.” How true that’s been for me in the last 15 to 20 days. It seems like yesterday I was watching deer in a neighborhood yard…

…and that’s already been 4 weeks ago! Since then I’ve been around the southeast from Birmingham to Tallahassee, Memphis, Branson, Montgomery, Nashville, and lots of little towns in between.

In the name of love.

On the way to Missouri we stopped at the Civil Rights Museum, the site where MLK gave his life for freedom and love.

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My brother and two of his kids at the Lorraine Motel, Memphis, Tennessee.

Then we went on to Missouri, where my brother and I could do our part to serve in the name of love.

In Branson (actually it was Lampe, Missouri), we volunteered at a camp where we worked when we were in college. I’m sure I’ll post more about our time there but for now I’ll say it was a really great, exhausting, learning, fun week with him. We did a lot of manual labor type work, lifted weights, ran a 5k every day for 5 days, played whiffle ball homerun derby, and lots more. We got there on a Saturday. When my body felt like it had done all it could do, and I was ready to pack up and head out, “It’s been a great week, y’all!” I came to realize it was still Saturday. Dang. Long days, for sure!

Straight after that week was Wilder beach week back in Florida, at a little beach just south of Tallahassee called St. Teresa. This is the week all the Wilders meet up for a week of fun with 8 kids, 8 adults, and 3 dogs. Lots of love in this family!

Exhausting was this week, too, but mostly because we’re all having fun on my dad’s boat (tubing, skiing, dolphin watching, etc), playing soccer on the beach, knockout on the basketball court, volleyball on the beach, and other random fun things that don’t include flying a kite. More on that later!

I returned to Nashville two weeks after leaving. It was nice to sleep in my own bed again, to watch Leverage on Netflix again, to play sand volleyball with my friends again. But this trip was so great.


-Out of the Wilderness

A week at summer camp: Part 2

So tagging on to my previous post about going back to summer camp, I was most excited about these three things:
1. My nephew going to Kanakuk/ road trip with him and my brother
2. Seeing a few old friends
3. Serving any and all staff for the week
Immediately after walking into the camp on opening day, I hugged a guy that meant a lot to me when I was working at K-West. Actually, he and his wife met at K-West during one of the summers I was there. DSC09255 DSC09254He goes by the name Sparky and she goes by Rachel. Awesome people. So glad I got to see them again. I also got to see the director of K-West, Ward Wiebe, an awesome man who I also reference in this post.

I knew in my heart of hearts it was going to be a great week, but I didn’t know I’d leave inspired by all the people there. It’s a whole different culture where they really do put God first, others second, and themselves third. I have become so accustomed to “the ways of the world” that I forgot we’re commanded to love other people like we love ourselves. This week at Kanakuk was a refreshing reminder of the second greatest commandment (the #1 commandment is to love God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength).

Good times in Missouri! There was also a bird nest in the teepee my brother and I were sleeping in. I’ll write more later about those baby birds, and more about what I mean when I say we slept in teepees, it wasn’t a typo.

-Out of the Wilderness

A week at summer camp: Part 1

It was the summer of 2000. I was between my junior and senior year of college and I was off to Missouri to be a videographer at a popular Christian sports camp in Lampe, Missouri. It’s called Kanakuk. DSC09261My sister had worked there in the mid-90s and my brother, too, in the late 90s/early 2000s. This was my first time experiencing Kanakuk Kamps, but not my last. I’d come back in 2001 and 2002, all three times working in video. After the last summer, I “settled down” in Tallahassee with a “real job” and began the life of a “young adult.” Life was all…fancy guyThen I moved to Nashville and life was all… brayI worked at CMT for 9 years, but then got laid off! the horrorSo basically I’ve had the entire summer to do whatever I want with the comfort of a generous severance package. Long story short, and because my brother was taking his son to Missouri for a week at Kanakuk, I tagged along to volunteer with my bro at a summer camp I hadn’t been to in almost 15 years! I was excited to go back, and really excited about the road trip I was about to take with my brother and nephew. DSC09183 DSC09184 DSC09188 DSC09190 DSC09191 DSC09193 DSC09194 DSC09197 DSC09198 DSC09200 DSC09202 DSC09203 DSC09206 DSC09208 DSC09211 DSC09214 DSC09215 DSC09217 DSC09226 DSC09228 DSC09231DSC09233 DSC09237 DSC09239 DSC09243

We made it to Missouri! The 7+ hour drive went by so fast. It was July 3rd so that’s why there were so many flags flying. Even these…DSC09260But anywho, politics aside, we were in Missouri and excited about it. Check back tomorrow for more!

-Out of the Wilderness

The confederate flag and what changed my mind

When the issue of the confederate flag recently came back in the spotlight, I was on the side of those defending the freedom to fly it. It’s a part of U.S. history that shouldn’t be forgotten (but not because it’s anything to be proud of when it comes to race relations). There is so much more to “The South” than slavery and racism and all the stuff we hear in the news about what the flag may or may not represent.

On a trip from Tennessee to Missouri I saw these 2 trucks and snapped a few pictures. DSC09259 DSC09260 DSC09311 DSC09312With plenty of time in the car I tried to put myself in the place of those asking for the flag’s removal, mostly black people as far as I know. And it worked. The scenario I imagined was my nieces living in a city where they were mistreated for decades. Over time, most people there were awakened to what equality is, treating others as they’d want to be treated, and realizing they were wrong about my nieces being less than them. So this city had a flag and even after the renewed respect in the city, some still flew the flag representing the outdated actions of the city’s inhabitants. My blood boiled and then I understood. To my nieces, this flag is a reminder of their mistreatment.

In America, it’s not about north or south (both sides had slaves). It’s not even about preserving history (although if we forget it, we’ll repeat it). It’s about people.

The conclusion to my hypothetical scenario and the real-life conflict we’re in today is this: People are more important than things. People are more important than flags. If it comes down to respecting your neighbor, try to understand where they’re coming from and make the choice that elevates the person above tradition.

-Out of the Wilderness

Routine

In the summer of 2000, I worked at Kanakuk Kamps in Lampe, Missouri. In fact, I worked there for that summer and the next two. One of my favorite parts of the camp was the kitchen. Talk about good food, the cooks there were good at what they did. However, on days I wasn’t in the mood for “Frito Love,” there was peanut butter and jelly. Not secretly my favorite sandwich of all time. One day, as I sat down with a couple of sandwiches in my normal seat at the middle table, the director of the camp said to me, “creature of habit.” He was referencing how I chose to sit in the same spot pretty much every single meal. He was right on the money. I guess I never realized how routined I was until he said it. And routines are a good thing. They provide stability, normalcy, a way to measure growth and progress, and as was my case at the camp, safety and comfort. I began working at this camp without knowing anyone. It was far away from my family, and all of my friends. So having my place to sit and eat meals became familiar. And I can’t think of anything more important for a person who feels out of place than familiarity.

Fast forward to 2009, and I was still that same creature of habit. Between balancing work, friends, and whatever else came up, I developed a routine that worked. I started my job at nine, worked out at the YMCA during lunch, and went home at six. Then in December I got a puppy. Hello new routine.

If I could quickly offer some advice, when you’re considering puppy adoption, do it! And also, do it in the spring or late summer. Training a dog in the winter is cold, exhausting, and cold. I learned the hard way that I was slower at putting on warm clothes at 4 A.M. than she was at making yellow puddles. So adopt a dog, then buy some carpet cleaner. My dog’s “accidents” became less and less frequent, however, when I learned the most important ingredient in training, routine. Through establishing a routine, I got better (and more) sleep, and she learned to hold it till she was outside. Routines are a good thing.

We are all creatures of habit and even though we may stray a bit on day to day activities, our weeks, months, and years will highlight an overall routine. And that’s a good thing. It means you are stable. Just remember, there’s a fine line between routine and rut. So have enough of a routine to feel safe, but every so often shock the system by sitting in a different spot.