I Dream of Scotland

The Halfway Mark

2011-07-13T22:43:00.005-05:00

Remember last month when I posted that I was starting an adventure? And then I disappeared? Well, no worries, dear reader, I have returned. The particular adventure the Lord has put me on this summer has taken a great deal of my time, my mental capacity, and my energy. I would sit to write something, and would come to an hour later with drool running through my beard. So I waited.

So here it is, my midsummer post:

Thus far this summer has been....

Amazing

Humbling

Hard

Joy-filled

Heartbreaking

Shaping

Life Giving

Draining

In other words, it has been, thus far, what an adventure should be.

I have met amazing people.

I met a man who was once arrested outside of Jerusalem for trying to sleep there. He wanted to sleep outside of the city like Jesus had. He laughed as he told the story now, 30 years later, and realized how odd and perhaps dangerous he must have seemed.

I met a woman who runs an Alpaca store, which has two Alpacas in the side yard, just for customers to play with.

I met a man who looks like Santa Claus, and for one of my staffs, has acted like him, blessing them at every turn.

I also met a toy maker who looks very much like the man above, but have no picture proof yet, maybe someday soon. This particular toy maker also happens to have an amazing knowledge of railroad history in the northeast. Yeah, we talked for a good long time....

I have met a man who loved the out of doors so much that he has dedicated his life to preserving and building a park in the heart of Rutland, Vermont. He has done this for ten years, has never been paid to do it, and has spent every "free" moment fighting to make others see his vision for what it can be. YW partners with him to build and preserve trails within the park, and the youth who work beside him get a better lesson about servant leadership than any sermon could ever teach.

I have met more pastors than I can list here, and they have each been a blessing to me as well as my staff. They have listened to concerns, taken people to dinner, coffee, even put myself and one of my staffs up in a hotel for a night so they could relax and enjoy the 4th of July. They have prayed for us, interceded with community for us, and opened up their churches and homes to us.

And I have only listed the community members I have met! That says nothing of the youth leaders and youth that have poured through my sites this summer, and how awesome they have been. Or of my staffs, 12 amazing people who are sacrificing sleep, comfort, friends and family, and at times, sanity, to be the hands and feet of Christ this summer. They are a blessing to so many, and deserve their own post entirely...maybe next month :P

God makes people so intricate, interesting, and unique. I have been blessed to get to know so many of them on this adventure.

The adventure is not always pure joy. Sometimes it is hard. Really hard. Sometimes I want to just walk away, ask someone else to take over, and go home to watch Memphis Beat. I get asked questions. A lot of questions. So often, I feel that I am out of answers before noon. I have tasks, some involving paperwork, some involving the less fun side of people management, that I hate. Some of them I dread. People can be difficult. Ministry is almost always difficult. Mixing the two makes for more problems than I could have ever imagined.

But this is my joy.

That God called me on this adventure not to fulfill my own desire for a fun summer before my next life step, That God called me on this adventure not so I could tell awesome stories. God did not even call me on this adventure so that I could spend the summer serving and learning about Him (though this is a wonderous by-product of it all).

No, my joy comes from the fact that God called me on this adventure because He built me for it, and it is to His glory that I fulfill it. He called me on this adventure because he wanted to break me of my all too often tendency to rely on myself and my own abilities for success. He called me on this adventure so that I could turn every moment over to Him, and then work hard to make every step, and action, every word be glorifying to Him.

So whether I am petting alpacas or helping a tired and discouraged staff member through one last interaction before the youth leave; whether I am sitting up late laughing with my staff about their crazy weeks or comforting a crying staff member whose burden makes me weep as well, whatever the moment, I find my joy in this adventure for the Lord. I am humbled each day that He called me to it. And blown away each time He provides the energy, wisdom, or sometimes just the smile that I need to get through each moment.

Let the glory of this adventure be to Him whose adventurous heart created us all.

P.S. I also saw these Moosen the other day. Further proof that my adventure is awesome.

New Adventure

2011-06-02T18:11:00.003-05:00

Here I sit, alone in a room at the First United Methodist Church.

My bed is an inflatable double high Coleman that my parents blessed me with by buying.

My desk is a tiny children's table, which my knees do not nearly fit under.

I am surrounded by a bag full of my clothes, binders in which my summer's tasks can be found, and office supplies my wonderful padre sent me.

Outside of these walls my four staffers wind down their days. They have worked hard, preparing for a summer of working hard, all in the name of the Lord.

On Tuesday I leave here, and head to another site. There I will re-inflate my bed, drag my bag inside, and share a day with another staff of four, amazingly hard working, God loving and serving people.

On Wednesday I will drive 7.5 hours and once again set up camp. I will spend a week and a half with my third, equally as amazing staff. I will be blessed by their hearts to serve, and the stories they already have about the amazing communities and peoples they are encountering.

Then, I will start the circuit again. This summer, I have no permanent home.

I will be lonely, tired, stretched, and confused. I will be called upon to solve problems which I feel in my heart I have no business trying to resolve. I will be brought to the edge, and beyond, of what I think myself capable.

BUT

I will be blessed beyond what is accountable in a silly blog post.

I will meet saints of the Lord who will make my simple air mattress nomad life seem like that of a well established king.

I will hear stories that will remind me that the God I serve is just and loving.

I will see faces that will remind me that all of my thoughts have been thought before, and God has heard them all, and still He listens.

I will have my heart broken for those whom God's heart breaks for.

I will see God's splendor in the mountains, in the towns, in the lakes, waterfalls, and people I meet.

I will be so blessed this summer it will shatter my reality of God's blessing.

For I cried out that I am a wanderer, and I needed an adventure, and God heard and delivered one.

I hope I am ready for His answer to prayer :)

Ultimate Competition

2010-08-23T23:19:00.002-05:00

I have a confession. I have little to no competitive spirit.

I know, dear reader, I know. Those of you who know me are not surprised. I am not saying I don't like to win, because I do. I am also not saying that I don't want to be better or try to be better than others. Because I do.

What I am saying is that when push comes to shove, if you want something, you can have it.

Tonight I played Ultimate Frisbee with some dear friends. Now, I am not what you might call an athlete. But I love to play Ultimate. I am also not very good at Ultimate. My friends, however, are kind enough to let me play.

Tonight, my team did not do so well. Some were bothered by this more than others. I would put my level of concern at the bottom of the list. I was just happy they let me run around like an idiot with them for a while. The only thing that bothered me was that I knew that some on my team really wanted to win, and I could not make that happen (in fact, probably hampered that from happening). But win for me? Yeah, could not care less in the end.

As I drove away tonight, I began to think about this part of me. This part that does not seek, enjoy, or really participate in competition. I began to be a bit worried. In a year, I am wanting to go to Law School. I have heard it is one of the most competitive academic environments one can enter. Everyone will be striving, fighting, pushing for the top. And I began to get concerned that I did not have the competitive edge to make it through the next few years. And then I began to think about what I want to do with my degree.

My philosophy has always been, I will do what I do. If you don't like it, cool. Let's go have a beer, and let it slide.

But what I want to do with my life is fight injustice. What I want to do is free children from the clutches of evil people who would use and abuse them to gain power and wealth.

You can't let that slide. You can't just nod your head and move on from that. You have to have a competitive edge. You have to want to win.

But I think we're gonna be okay here. Because I thought some more about this competitive thing. And see, it is true that I really don't care if I win. But I care if those that I love win. I care if the good guys win. Tonight, my friend really wanted to win, and while I did not care and could not make it happen, I really wanted her to be able to win (again, sorry I could not make that happen my friend, perhaps next time shorter fields and shinier frisbees to hold my attention...just a thought).

I only care to win when there is a greater win in it than mine. If you want to win with all your heart, then I want you to win with all mine. I want to do what I can to help you win. I will spend my time and energy to make that happen, if I can. I am a borrower when it comes to competition.

So when I go to school next Fall, I will not be going for my win. If I do, I will be content to just do well and let others seek glory. I will be content to just be a pretty good lawyer. I will be content to sit back and let someone else get the connections and accolades needed to make an impact in the legal world.

No, my win will not work. I will go for those I wish to serve. I will go for the God I serve. I will go remembering that I want to win so that those I defend can have lives they never dreamed were possible, and that evil gets the swift kick to the crotch it deserves.

If that sounds cheesy, I am cool with that. If you think I am a fool for giving that all over and doing it for the glory of a "big idea" cause that may not be attainable, if you think "doing it for the children" is too cliche, that's cool.

Call me, we will go get a beer.

The Thinker

2010-08-12T23:25:00.003-05:00

Imagine with me if you will. You enter a dining room. Before you there is a table laid out with intricately designed beautiful dishes. It is it by candles. Barely audible there s a blend of music that weaves its way into your subconscious, both soothing and inspiring you. As you sit, the chair is perfectly made to fit you at the exact height of the table. It is not overstuffed and lumpy, nor a hard wooden slab. You sit and wait.

The meal arrives. First a soup, not so filling as it is flavorful. With each rise of the spoon your taste buds practically leap from you tongue to embrace the smooth, warm broth. It wakens your senses and prepares your stomach to be filled with greater things to come. Second, a main course. The meat is a tender roast, cooked to perfection. Each bites melts off the fork. You find yourself chewing to excess, not because the meat is tough or needs processing, but because each bite is so good you do not want it to end. When it does, the only thing that consoles you as you swallow is the fact that there is another bite on its way. This is accompanied by a salad that is so fresh, crisp, and cool that it makes your body feel fresher just to ingest it. Finally, dessert arrives. Before you sits a culinary miracle. A cake so moist, so light, so perfectly baked that it is almost a shame to take a bite out of it. Almost. When you do, you are once again hit with a cornucopia of flavor. This time sweeter and thicker. The frosting is light, and accents the cake such that you cannot think of ever having eaten the one without the other. They are a perfect complimentary pair.

For me, my friends, a good intellectual conversation feels like that kind of a meal. A good intellectual conversation, where my brain is stretched and forced to accept new, even opposing thoughts, can be just as satisfying as sitting down to such a lovely spread as described above.

And tonight, I feasted.

Tonight, I went to a series of talks called TEDx KC. Some of you may have heard of TED Talks. They are presented annually at a conference. Originally set up to discuss what was happening in the world of Technology, Entertainment, and Design, they have grown to encompass all things intellectual and innovative. Some of the most brilliant minds in the world have spoken at TED conferences. And those talks are presented online for free.

A TEDx conference is a localized version. It has a similar format to TED, but is put on locally. The original TED conference has become such a big deal that one must apply to go, and it costs quite a bit of money. The local one I went to tonight was free, and I just had to be lucky enough to nab a ticket when they went on "sale". Which was harder than you might think they were out of tickets within an hour of them being available.

The speakers covered everything from new business strategies to how we interact with technology to human vulnerability to poop to how we inline gamers can save the world.

I will not cheapen the talks by trying to recap them here, I believe they will be up on the web soon. They inspired my mind in many ways, and I am still chewing on them some.

But they also inspired me to think a bit more about the conversations I have in everyday life. Tonight I saw 5 people who are the best at what they do present some crazy ideas. They are not the best at what they do by accident. They are the best a what they do because they have taken the time in their lives to discover their passions and then pursue them. And by pursue, I don't mean they just went out and bought some books and checked out some web pages. I mean they let their minds marinate on what they are passionate about. They asked questions of people. They set up discussions. They put their ideas out to the world, and let that begin to shape and reshape what they did.

Powerful.

One speaker tonight pointed out that much of our conversation revolves around media. We talk about television and movies as though we were experiencing them ourselves. We are comfortable with made up story lines because those problems are solved within a set context, and we can rejoice in the solution.

But how often do we engage in intellectual, mentally stimulating, original thought conversation. How often do we stop "exploring" the meaning behind LOST or Monday Night Football (I know, Sam, you just took in a deep breath) and have a real conversation about the world that actually exists around us?

I hang out with wicked smart people. I hang out with people who everyday solve problems, little and big, to make their worlds work better. I am not saying that you, dear reader, do not think. And I am not saying that I am not just as guilty of spending a huge percentage of my conversating time discussing Scrubs, Psych, and Date Night.

What I am saying is that tonight's delicious feast of deep thinking discussion got me to thinking about how much I love to go deeper. To have real conversations that matter and have a lasting impact. To have a conversation that was working towards a goal of better understanding for both myself and my fellow dialoguer.

If we really did spend our words wisely, talking over real issues, solving real problems, I think we could each begin to have some pretty amazing impacts in our own small spheres, which could even bleed out into larger spheres of influence. If instead of discussing the latest episode of Modern Family, we engaged in a discussion of energy conservation, aid to the poor in our area, how to reach out to children in need, or ways to build a better automobile, what would start changing in our lives? I don't mean every conversation has to be deep and meaningful. We certainly SHOULD discuss Modern Family, and often. But maybe just start working on shifting the balance. Let the mindless, entertainment conversations be the minority, let the expanding of ideas conversations be the lions share of talk.

See where that goes. Sharp minds sharpening other sharp minds. Engaged people engaging in the world around them.

Just a thought. Just a thought.

Insomnia...We Meet Again

2010-03-16T00:09:00.002-05:00

Well dear reader, you have finally found me here again. The reason? A wee bit of insomnia. When I was in high school I went entire weeks without sleeping more than a few, dream-filled hours a night. In college, I never really slept much. For years after, as I entered the work force and took jobs that drained me of all my energy, I slept like a rock.

...Now I sit at a desk all day, and my old friend Insomnia has returned. Last night it was dreams. Crazy dreams. Dreams involving the kidnapping of certain friends, and my inability to find them. Tonight, it is sleeplessness all together. I am hoping this will exhaust my brain a bit, so when I sleep, I will not dream. Unless the girls get kidnapped again....then I suppose dream hero me will have to step up.

Anyway, this post should not be about dreaming....what to discuss......

I have it!

Smell association. You know how when you hear a song it can take you back to a set place and time? The same, at least for me, works with smells.

Last week, it was just about to rain, and was slightly humid outside. The air was thick, and held the damp, restless smell of a coming storm. I stepped out of the office, and when the first breeze hit me I was suddenly back in 9th grade at Worlds of Fun. That day I took two of my friends with me to enjoy the park. One a girl I liked, the other a good guy friend. The whole park smelled like a storm was coming, because it was. I remember that the day ended with the guy and the girl I brought dating....the coming storm was more than just weather :)

The other day I was throwing something away in a public trashcan, and I caught a whiff of Grizzly Chewing Tobacco. How do I know what that smells like? It was what my grandfather chewed. The minty, sickly smell immediately took me to when I was 14, riding in his painting van, learning how to paint. We were riding along in silence, I believe he thought I needed to learn to be still and listen to life. With that simple olfactory stimulation I felt as though I was physically in that old van again. And my heart broke a little when broke free of that and came back to the real world.

And then there was tonight when I went in to my parent's basement. My father is a printer, and he was running his press. The chemicals used in this process are strong, their odor filled the basement. And upon entering the basement my nose took me back to the printing office he once had in a church, where he worked my entire childhood. That was a wonderful place. The shelves all had things to play with, like airplanes and cars. Outside of his office sat the pop machine, which he had the key to, and on special occasions, we could "sneak" in and get one..always orange. I love orange. He had a drafting table set up to do his layouts on, and we would sit on stools, taking exacto knives and cutting into the rubbery surface, the only time we were allowed to fulfill such destructive impulses. I can describe what the room looked like, all the trinkets, including an ash tray I made for him (he did not smoke) and a real taxidermied piranha I bought him for Father's Day one year (because who does not want one of those). But it is the smell of the ink that brings me back to that place in my heart.

There are many, many other scents that will trigger my memory, but, luck for you, this exercise has done its job. I am now off to try once again to sleep. If you made it this far, you are thanked for putting up with my late night ramblings. Hopefully my next post will be of some more substance.

G'night

Hrumph

2010-02-10T22:39:00.001-06:00

I took the LSAT.

Thought you, dear reader, should know.

Adventure

2010-01-18T22:24:00.004-06:00

Today, as I tried to clear my mind from a day of frustration towards work and studying for a test I must soon take, which I may bomb, I began to contemplate why I was working so hard for a new future.

There are the obvious answers. I feel that God has a plan for me. I want to make something of my life. I hate what I do now with the fiery passion of a thousand suns.

But there is something more. Something that I believe has kept human-kind moving ever forward since time began.

ADVENTURE

We all crave it. Grown men and women, young children, teens sitting in 5th hour Algebra. I do not know any person who has not at one time other felt a desire to have "more adventure" in his or her life.

History is packed with it. In fact, most of what we know about ancient cultures comes from studying their remains (an adventure in itself) and their stories, which are inevitably all about their adventures. Ancient Greece and Rome, The battles of Troy, the Spartans, Hercules great tasks. Ancient African stories about jungle creatures and their adventures in taming their worlds. Native American stories about great battles, or how Raven gained the Sun for the earth through an adventurous trick. The stories of 1,000 Arabian Nights, filled with terrible and horrifying adventures.

Looking at the world today, it seems that it would almost be easy to say that all of the cool adventuring has already been done. Want to know what is on the other side of the world? Google it. Explorers hundreds of years ago already took ships around finding everything (even though plenty of people groups were shocked to discover they had been lost). Want to climb the highest mountain? It has been done. Want to fly around the world? Done. Want survive a tornado by strapping a leather belt around your waste? Bill Paxton did it for a movie (that was real footage, right?) Anyway, you see my point. It seems at the surface that all we have left for true gritty, never before done adventure is Deep Space Travel and Deep Ocean Travel. That and ridiculously dangerous adventures (Steve Fossett ring any bells?).

But the more I think about it, the more I think the truth of the matter is that all of the easy adventures have been taken. The most difficult ones are yet to be conquered. There is still more adventure to be had in this world than we could ever fulfill. Discovering continents, battling dragons, topping mountains, and even fighting space aliens are all tough tasks. But they are nothing compared to the real adventures that await humankind.

So I can't climb a mountain and say I am the first. Fine. What if I am the first person to say that I played my part in eradicating the sexual slave trade in Taiwan?

No new continents to discover you say? How about I join the team that pioneers the great breakthrough that discovers the cure for cancer cells, HIV, diabetes....

We've been on the surface of the moon, but what about being the farmer that works with our surface here to feed hungry children?

Women are raped. Men are slaughtered. Children are torn from their beds. All so that different factions of people can claim superiority to a ragged and tired piece of bloody land. What an adventure it would be to wade into that mess, with a message of love and peace, and actually being a part of the people who see to it that homes are safe, families kept together, love a greater threat to leaders than guns.

The adventures of our future will find their anchor in the hearts of mankind, not of the earth. We have "conquered" the mountains. We have "mastered" the land and sea. But all the while we have ignored the most dangerous adventure, exploring and conquering the struggling world of man (and woman). As long as there are homeless, hungry, abused, and abandoned in this world, we have plenty of adventure awaiting us.

Some reading this will say that these are the hopes of an inexperienced dreamer. They will state that once I have had a chance to see the way the world works, I will understand that these things are not possible. That I can try to help, but that there will always be another war, another disease, another sick son of a bitch who wants to destroy children.

And they are probably right. But the adventure is not in the completed task. It is in the act of completing it. History may not remember those who sought adventure and failed, this is true. But it also has no recollection of the masses that told the Wright Brothers they were ridiculous to want to fly. It looks back with disdain at the way people treated Galileo. Those who told Magellan, Marco Polo, Neil Armstrong, and Emelia Earhart that they should focus on tangible, achievable goals.

And there are already plenty of modern day adventurers to join. People in the last century who lived lives of adventure that centered around people. Martin Luther King Jr, Gandhi, Mother Theresa, and Nelson Mandela are some of the famous modern day adventurers. But there are so many more. Slightly less known, but just as adventurous, Greg Mortenson, author of Three Cups of Tea. Brother Andrew, who brought has spent the last 20 years trying to bring peace and understanding to differing peoples in the Middle East. Muhammad Yunas and his brilliant micro-lending plans.

And then the countless individuals in every community who are stepping into adventure to help their world and community.

I don't really want to be remembered amongst these men and women. But I do know what stirred in them, and it stirs in me. They took the easy adventures, and I applaud them for it. But I am not afraid of the adventure awaiting me. It will be just as daring, just as terrifying, just as exhilarating.

Join me in an adventure?

The Fight is Ever Tougher

2009-12-28T23:04:00.002-06:00

Well, dear reader, I have returned. What has caused my return? I have found something worth writing about.....

URBANA '09

Some of you reading this knew I made the last minute decision to come. Many of you helped me to actually get here. What follows are my thoughts after day one....

....this world is jacked. Seriously. Evil has a stronghold in this world, and it is employing devious and deadly tricks to grasp desperately at its power. And when one looks at it as a whole, one can get discouraged. One can begin to believe the lie that there is too much to be done, that this Hydra cannot be killed. That as soon as you cut one head off, stop one brothel, shut down one sweat shop, three more will rise up.

One can look at the growing darkness and begin to become afraid of what is out there.

Today, I sat and spoke with an awesome woman who has been serving the cause for child justice in Cambodia. Her organization had been centered in the main cities there, but had found that they were in competition for the kids with other aid and justice organizations. They decided that they would leave the cities and head into the rural villages. They thought they would walk in, tell these villagers that they were there to love them in the name of Christ, and that they would be accepted.

This is when they discovered that Satan had a new ploy, one so devious it made them weep tears of frustration (and nearly me as she told me). What they discovered was that the slave traders had beat them to the towns. And what they had done there was deplorable. They walked in, set up a "mission" and stated they were missionaries. They stated they were there in the name of Christ, and that they were there to teach the children. They then had the kids come in for Sunday school. They earned the family's trust. They then took the kids on a retreat....where they abused them, sold them into slavery, and used them up.

Villagers were being warned to not trust Christians, that Christians would steal their children. That Christians would destroy their children.

And rage built in me. And I could feel Christ's rage. His name, His church, His reputation has been tarnished so that evil can better succeed in its destruction.

The woman I spoke with explained that her initial reaction was that she was crushed. That she felt absolutely defeated. That she felt that this was a blow that she did not know how to overcome.

But she kept working at it, The only answer was to keep loving. To love stronger, harder, better. To commit to staying in each community until the real love of Christ showed through. Her answer was to strap in, put on her big-girl pants, and get down and dirty in the fight against evil. Evil wanted to present itself as Christ, and tarnish the name while doing it. She fought back by letting the truth of who Christ is shine through.

What a humbling moment. She looked at me and said, "You cannot give up. People with our hearts cannot give up. These children need to be heard." She had been faced with the devil's terrifyingly brilliant scheme, and she chose to follow through. The road was longer, harder, and much more dangerous than she had expected. The earning of trust, the attaining of the goal, the saving of the children, was not immediate, was not obtained in a month, or two months. It took considerable time and effort.

And that is what I am learning thus far. I have always known that following God can be hard. I have known that to follow the Lord requires a commitment of high and demanding standards. but what I am seeing at this Urbana thus far is that evil is trying to outwit, out do, out think the kingdom of God. I have no doubt that God will win. I have no doubt that the evil in this world will be brought to justice. I don't even doubt that some of that justice can be accomplished by men and women on this earth. But it will be a hard go. The commitment level is unbelievably demanding. Jesus told me it would be this way. He is not surprised that evil is getting smarter, that it is masking itself in a prettier package so that more will be sucked in. He is not surprised, and he is not scared, but he knows what it means. He knows that in order to see justice done, all other desires must be abandoned. He warned me I would not have a hole to live in. he warned me I would not have a family. He warned me I would not find my joy here, and that death to myself would be the price.

But he made in me a heart that yearns for His justice, and therefore, He has given me His family. Within that, thankfully, I have my own blood family, for they support my heart, and encourage my passions. But He has also given me an extended family in Him. He has provided those who have gone before, those who can encourage and call out. Those who can tell me that it has been difficult, but also that it has been worth it.

That is Urbana folks. Darkness is identified. Darkness is recognized. Darkness is given the degree of seriousness it demands. BUT, those who have gone before stand proudly and say they have looked into the eyes, the heart, the terrifying mass of darkness, and they have seen that there is one thing it cannot overcome. It can overcome man. It can overcome theological debates. It can overcome missionaries intending good. But it cannot overcome The Light. The Light which came into the world, which headed straight for the darkness, but the darkness could not overcome it.

And when the darkening world begins to look a bit to powerful, too terrifying, too grand. When my strength gives out, and it is easier to stay in my job and live my simple life than struggle against the darkness. When I want to run and hide and pretend that darkness cannot catch me, has not begun to creep into my bones, my mind, my heart. When all this is true, the Light rushes out, screaming at the darkness, terrifying IT with the strength of the one true God. And I am reminded that my puny strength is not what will hold back the darkness. That was taken care of on a cross many years ago.

I am not called to fight of my own strength, but to fight with the Light of the World. And to be in it for the long hall. Evil has some fancy moves, but my team has the stamina to stay in the game and wear evil out. They can use every trick play in the book, my team will run them down with solid play and truth at the forefront.

So far what I hear Urbana saying to me is, don't watch the world and shake your head. Don't wait for the easy time to plunge in.Don't fear the growing darkness, for it already fears the name you carry.

So, here I go, to spend my week looking into what that means.

Summer Gone By

2009-08-15T20:27:00.002-05:00

Well, the summer is finished. Not the actual summer. Just mine. My summer employment with YouthWorks! Inc. has finished. I left West Virginia on Sunday, was in Philedelphia by Sunday night, Angola, Indiana on Tuesday night, St. Louis, Missouri on Thursday night, and back in my house in ole OP on Friday....what a trip.

God and I got along grand this summer. He taught me a great deal about leading people, about what real passion for serving in His kingdom is, and about how I am best motivated and able to serve.

He also taught me that my passion for Him must be a constant yearning. That I cannot sustain myself on a summer long sojourn into God's kingdom and then coast for 9 months waiting for Jesus Lightning to strike. Jesus Lightning is, for those unfamiliar, the brilliant flash of passion and motivation to love and serve the world that comes from nowhere unbidden. I won't say it doesn't exist, just that it is not something to sit around and wait for.

It is funny how I can spend an entire summer in West Virginia, have so many stories, memories, and fantastic moments that Haley and I can talk for 9 hours straight from Philly to Angola, and yet when I sit down here, it all seems to blur together.

So I guess you are going to have to ask me for specific details, because this broadstroke writing is not going to happen. I am discovering how much I hate sitting here at this thing.

So I will close out with this:

I STILL NEED A JOB!

So come Monday, you will find me beating the asphalt down as I try to find someone who wants to hire this spectacular employee to be. Those of you looking to hire....you had better call quick!

I will let you, dear reader, know how it goes.

At the End

2009-08-03T22:36:00.003-05:00

So last week was Lincoln County's last week of programming. I know, I have failed you, dear reader. I have not updated. I have not posted pictures. I have not shared the many deep thoughts and movements of heart that God has been giving me.

I am tired. That is all the excuse I have. Shameful, I know. But when I come to the end of the day, or a brief break, forgive me beloved, but in front of a computing machine is not where I want to be. So perhaps when I get home I will write about my amazing staff, how God used each of them to change Lincoln County, youths' lives, and me. How I am going to miss them a great deal, and how they have touched my world. Perhaps I will write about the youth groups I saw, about those that were fired up for Christ, and serving His people. Or those with a lack of passion for a life radically changed by God, the "thrill seeking" churches as I have decided to call them. Perhaps I will write about a new project that I think is growing on my heart, a way to meet and love the people of our fair land. Perhaps I will write about West Virginia, her beauty, her anger, her need.

I will certainly write about the funny experiences. I will most definitely write about God and all that He did. I will write, I promise, life upon my return home.

But for now my mind is worn down. I have no more deep thoughts in me.

So I ask, instead, for prayer. I have $900 in my checking account. By the weekend, that will be down to $300. By next Wednesday....maybe $100.....

I need a job. I need to decide if I move again. I need to decide if I can stay in Kansas City and try to find work, or if I should look in other states where a chance of work is offered. I felt like God led me to YouthWorks....but I have no idea what the next step should be. And I am getting a little nervous.

So pray for me, my friends. And if anyone is looking to hire an excellent History degree holding ex-Habitat homebuilder/Maintenance man/Site Director....let me know:)

My Life in Pictures

2009-07-03T15:37:00.009-05:00

I am too tired to write much, so I thought I would share some pictures from my world. For more, check out facebook AND go to the Lincoln Journal (local paper) website to check out more pictures from my weeks! Just look for the YouthWorks! link!

Prep Week in Philly

My Crew32 Crew

Early Bird in Logan, WV

The view from Logan's site

Square dancing in Delbarton

Charleston

Linds and I share a birthday dinner

Clogging

Michael Midkiff

Where I live

A Note From The Furnace Closet

2009-06-22T22:49:00.002-05:00

Good News: I found an internet access

Bad News: It is in a furnace closet, where I must cram myself between a table and a toolbox to plug in.

But here I am.

We have our first week of kids. I remembering why I love YouthWorks. I am remembering how hard YouthWorks can be.

I am learning a great deal as the leader of my small ragtag staff of God-warriors. I will write more about it later...perhaps this weekend.

First, a more pressing issue. You have all (except Kelly and Cassidy- who are amazing) let me down. I made one simple request.

Pictures.

And I have received......

Because my Dad and Momma are also awesome.

The rest of you, dear readers, I shall give you my address again, give you a second chance:

John Creagar

c/o YouthWorks

P.O. Box 612

Hamlin, WV 25523

In all seriousness though, me friends, I am blessed by your prayers. I have needed them the past few weeks, and I thank you for praying for me. Your prayers are worth more than pictures, and I am humbled by those who pray for me. Thank you.

And send pictures:P

Well, I have to cook breakfast in the morning. 120 frozen waffles.

Can't wait.

Clifford Ellis Welcomed Me Home

2009-06-06T21:34:00.003-05:00

Well, dear friends, here I sit in Logan, West Virginia, on the eve of Early Bird week. Early Bird is a week when multiple sites come together to run a YouthWorks week as one giant unit. It gives new staffers a chance to see a week in action, and alumni to get their feet wet again. We, the Lincoln County Crew have come to Logan. We will be here until Friday, then head back to Hamlin, West Virginia, where we will do one more week of prep, and then will have youth of our own arrive.

A great deal has occurred in the last few weeks, but I will try to summarize in a brief rundown.

I left my dog, my truck, my family, and my friends behind in Kansas City and Manhattan. no matter how many times I leave a place....and I tend to do that often....it is always a difficult thing to do. I truly enjoy my friends and family, and sometimes my transient life wears me down. Sometimes, just as the plane takes off, I think about how nice it would be if I could just settle in someplace for 3 or 4 years. Maybe put down some roots, meet a girl, start a family, have barbeques and Toasting Tuesdays.....

.....then the plane takes off and I am onto the next adventure, and I see new stories forming to tell old friends, new friends coming at me, new cultures to immerse myself in. And suddenly, I know that this wanderer's life is the only thing I can do....for now.

Back to YouthWorks

My training week was awesome. I got to catch up with old YW friends, to meet my amazing staff, and to remember why it was that I quit my job and abandoned reason to come serve God in West Virginia this summer.

My staff. They are truly wonderful. Each brings gifts to the table that make our site run like a well oiled machine. Each brings a work ethic and desire to serve the Lord that will carry us all through the summer. Each knows how to smile and seek God in both the mundane and the trying times. Each is a blessing to West Virginia, YouthWorks, and myself.

Their names are Haley Church (Program), Mark Cooper (Work Projects), and Lindsay Holmes (Kids Club). If you are praying for me this summer, I would ask that you add them to that time as well. If you want to know more about them, just let me know.

We left Philly, and began our trip to Hamlin. Along the way we saw some beautiful countryside, ate at an excellent Mexican Restaurant, discovered that out F-150 two-tone pickup (named Tony) has no radio, and got to know each other much better.

Upon our arrival in Hamlin, we walked into the Fire Hall in the middle of Bingo Night. Every Thursday and Saturday night the building we stay in, which was a brassiere factory, then a junior high, and now is owned by the Fire Fighters of Hamlin, houses community bingo. It is pretty amazing, and a greta chance to catch up on local goings on.

Anywho, we arrived mid-bingo and mid-rainstorm. There was water in our sleeping rooms. There was dirt. There were bugs. It was a bit overwhelming.

But there was air conditioning. There were mattresses. There were amazing people who told us over and over that they wanted us there, that they were honored to have us, whom they had never met, staying with them. There was God. The love was....a bit overwhelming.

We found a dry, safe place to sleep, and slept through the evening. We awoke, we cleaned, and we began our adventure. We are starting to love our home.

It is always cold. The A/C works very well, and is always on. It is always filled with scanner chatter. As one person put it, we always know who to pray for, because we hear about every accident in Lincoln County. It is often filled with firefighters and EMT's and their families.

The community in Hamlin is extremely loving towards us. They look after us. They have already invited us to dinner (twice), given us gifts (amazing ones), told us they were our mothers, and gone out of their way to give us anything we even mention needing/wanting. We have been invited to every community event available, and have been invited to every church in town- and there are many.

AND

I have reunited with the Elswicks and the Ellis's. I have not had much chance to hang out with either, we have been busy getting the site ready, but they have welcomed me back with open arms. Clifford Ellis told me he and his wife Pinky had been praying hard that I would "come home".

Clifford is the pastor of the Ferrelsburg Church of God. On Wednesday I got to go to his church and take part in a good old fashioned West Virginia prayer service. I snuck in the back while they were watching a video about experiencing God. When they lights came on, Clifford came up to wrap up, and he saw me. Immediately he called me up, and had the entire congregation come up and pray for me. It was humbling, honoring, terrifying, and beautiful. Then I got to sit and just catch up with this amazing man and woman for about an hour.

Now, as I said before, I love everyone I left behind. I miss each of you everyday, trust me I do. But it was a special kind of sweetness to sit in the Ferrelsburg Church of God with an intense man of the Lord and his wife, and just feel a real, Godly, pure love oured out in my direction. As I drove through the scary West Virginia night, I couldn't help but feel like with people like that praying for and watching out for me, the summer could never get too off course.

Well, this update has already been too long. I will close it down. I do want to say that I love you all, and look forward to seeing you at the end of the summer. Or when you send me your pictures. DO IT.

AND stayed tuned, dear reader. Coming soon: John goes clogging.

There may even be pictures.

I Have Arrived

2009-06-02T08:45:00.002-05:00

Well, dear readers, I have arrived in Hamlin, West Virginia.

We are busy, and I do not have time to update for real, but this is a shameless ploy for mail.

You see, usually when I head out for a YouthWorks summer, I bring with me a collection of pictures of friends and family so that I will not be too lonely over the summer.

This summer I forgot.

So the call is going out my friends! Send me your pictures! Join me in my adventure!

Make them funny, serious, anything will be awesome! Bainy....I expect sweet pictures from your travels.

And don't just send pictures. I would love to hear about how your summer is going as well. Write to me, and I will write you back. We can be pen pals. It it will rock.

All righty, I am going to go sit at the Post Office and wait.....

John Creagar
C/O YouthWorks!
P.O. Box 612
Hamlin, WV 25523

My Bags Are Packed, I'm Ready To Go.....

2009-05-22T09:27:00.002-05:00

So this is it for a while. After I post this I am packing my computer and turning off my cable/internet. On Monday I am flying to Philly, then driving to West Virginia.

I may have some internet access this summer, so stay with me, dear reader. Don't abandon me. We will still share the summer, if only at a distance.

Catch you on the flip side....

Thank You Travelocity

2009-05-16T00:58:00.003-05:00

One week from Monday I leave for my Youthworks summer. In order to get to my training, I needed to purchase a plane ticket. To be a wise consumer, I did some research, tried several different packages, and finally went with the Travelocity website one-way ticket to Philly. I found that if I fly one way out, and in a few weeks grab another one way back home for the end of the summer, I save about ten bucks. Go me.

So I click click click, and have my ticket purchased. Then, like any good employee, I proceed to inform my employer of these plans, as per their request.

That is when I discovered that I, in my infinite wisdom, had somehow managed to reserve a round trip flight from Kansas City to Philly and back for August 11 (depart) and August 12 (return). Needless to say, this was a useless ticket for me, as I need to be in Philly on May 25, and leave Philly on August 11.

First I cursed.

Then I yelled.

Then I punched my desk.

Then I remembered that earlier this week I had bruised my knuckle punching through sheet rock for fun.

Then I looked into fixing my error.

Luckily, Travelocity plans for morons like myself. They have a refund policy for those of us who cannot get it right the first time. The airlines wanted to charge me $150 to change my flight date. Travelocity simply cancelled my plans, then allowed me to reschedule as needed.

So now I am set. And my dreams of cheap travel are nearly within reach.

Now I just have to get my house packed up.....yikers.

BANG!

2009-05-12T08:55:00.003-05:00

Last night I played the game BANG! with several of my friends. I had never played it before, but had heard it was awesome.

All reports were true.

I am, generally, not a strategy, interactive game person. I get distracted too easily, follow through on ridiculous whims, and generally mess up my game, and usually others who I am playing with.

But BANG! is different, and here is how:

1. It is about gunfighters and the old west. Instantly awesome.

2. While strategy dictates that you should be careful who you kill, it is possible to kill or at leats attack on a whim...such as when I shot Tiffany purely because I told her I would shoot her first or attacked Chris as vengence for putting me in jail.

3. You can be underhanded, and your character can actually play the way s/he might have to in real life. Thus, the sheriff fights a losing battle because s/he is exposed the whole game, the deputy fights to save the sheriff without making him/herself a target, the renegade can seem to help the sheriff, but then quickly turns on him/her, and the outlaws are just out for blood. I love it.

4. I have been reading a bit about game theory lately, and this game was interesting from that standpoint as well.

5. The game is short enough that I stay engaged.

So I now have a new favorite game. Anybody want to play? I own the game (ask Sam and Luke why), so up to 6 of you lucky readers can join me. More if we invite Luke and his game.

Ain't Life Funny

2009-04-30T21:08:00.000-05:00

So, a funny thing happened this weekend.

I quit my job.

Well, I gave my notice, I won't actually quit until the 15th.

I am returning to my first love of working: YouthWorks.

This summer, I will be moving to Lincoln County, West Virginia and to be the Site Director for a ministry site.

I will be leaving behind my dog, my steady income, my security, and perhaps my rational mind.

I will not be leaving behind my truck payment, tax payment, credit card payment, and eventual need for long-term employment.

But I am excited. This came about very quickly, and very unexpectedly. I was not planning on working for YouthWorks this summer, but suddenly find myself doing so.

I was not planning on putting my well being directly into the Lord's hands with no way to turn but to Him, but suddenly, I find myself doing so.

It is going to be awesome. It is going to be terrifying. It is going to be brilliant. It is going to be a foolish move. It is going to be serving the Lord above my own sense of what is "right".

And there I let it stay.

So pray for me folks. I may have just made a huge mistake, but it is a mistake of the heart. The kind of mistake this romantic fool likes to make.

Oh, and my current job asked me to write up a pro/con for hiring a full time replacement versus a part time replacement. This is what I wrote:

In the fast paced and often dangerous world of property management maintenance, it is sometimes, nay often necessary to call upon a full time maintenance man. In the wild urbanized jungle of rented houses, apartments, and lofts, a man can get lost. Some have gone into these homes, and come out changed, frightened, useless. Others, they’ve never come back at all. Though property maintenance looks tame from the outside, only the strongest, bravest, and most dedicated can survive the grueling day to day horrors that must be approached, assessed, and diffused. No mere part timer has the stamina for such work. No mere on-call worker could sift through the retched filth that humanity leaves in its wake and scrubs out a diamond from the refuge. Nay my friend, only one who has heard the calling, who has looked into the abyss, who has seen what the darkness holds and has screamed in defiance back to it, can stand such a daunting task. To find such a hero, one may have to search out Arthur’s sword or Beowulf’s shield. A Herculean mission may be the only way to find the character who can complete the deadly and heart-wrenching tasks which will be laid at the maintenance worker’s feet. A part timer would merely quake, so says I.

So hire the hero you wish to see. Remember that Galahad stayed pure, and Lancelot fell. Choose wisely, and see all prosper. Choose poorly, and see all dreams of man fall to the belly of the beast of Hell.

My Pirate Crew (With Pictures!)

2009-04-23T18:31:00.014-05:00

Well, I put out the call, and some of you responded. There were a few I thought would jump at the opportunity that refrained, but the crew I have is dedicated, fierce, and ready for action.

The Crew

Captain Halfbeard

They say that The Dread Captain Halfbeard lost his facial hair in a deal with the devil gone terribly wrong. He is a fierce and frightening man, who lost his eye in a duel with the Kraken, and nearly lost the other one from not listening to his mother's advice about running with scissors. No one knows how he lost his left hand, but he has never allowed a disposal to be installed in the galley. His constant companion is a monkey named Cooper, known for his pickpocket and blackjack skills.

First Mate Red Beard

When the Great Pirate Red Beard first left home at age 7, his dream was to be the greatest sand volleyball player ever to come out of the Midwest. Alas, during a high stakes game two years later, Red Beard (as he was already know, for his beard began to grow at birth) was double crossed by a team of rich British sailors. They took the trophy, but Red Beard later took their hearts. In his pursuit, he found that he loved the sea, and stealing. He stands strong beside Captain Halfbeard, knowing is ever his captain should fall, it will take a great beard to carry the fight on.

Lookout: TK "Crazy Eye" Henry

She was born to a family of Russian acrobats, and has always loved to be high above. From the Crow's Nest, she is always the first to spot enemies on the horizon. Some say that her crazy red eye allows her to see into the future. Others say she just needs to learn how to maintain her contacts. She is not just an observer of danger, my friends. Her scars, and they are many, have all been earned in hard fought battle with the most dangerous dregs of the earth. Except the one on her face. She got that one the night she tripped on Cooper's banana peel and fell Scurvy's sword. She has never liked the monkey since....

Physician: Scurvy

A citrus allergy led to Dr. Wade "Scurvy" Greening's unfortunate condition. Not his disease, his leg. In a battle with some of the most heartless creatures ever to roam the waters, Scurvy was attacked by orange wielding enemies who knew of his weakness. He was forced to jump ship, and the sharks soon took liberties with his limb. Un-deterred, Scurvy quickly sewed his own leg up, rejoined the fight, and slaughtered his enemies to a man. The only survivor was a parrot named Dammit. Though the mono-lexemetic bird can be a bit awkward, he never fails to make Scurvy laugh.

Pilot: Sea Ranger

They say that Sea Ranger (SR for short) was not born, but rather sprung from the sea hungry for battle. There is no place on the ocean that he does not feel at home, and he can never be lost. Except that one time. But we don't EVER talk about it. His appetite for fighting is topped only by his appetite for fine cuisine. When on land- and that is rare- he can be found in only the finest dining establishments on the wharf. In battle, he uses only the weapons God gave him, his fists, Butch and Sundance. It is said that he can catch a bullet and throw it back at his attacker and never be harmed. His teeth are pure gold, gold taken while plundering enemy pirates. Each tooth tells a story, except the back molar. That is purely for grinding.

Battle Leader: Jenna "Parkie" Wilson

She began as a humble park ranger in Missouri, but a terrible storm and some bad directions left her stranded on a desert island. Picked up by Captian Halfbeard and his crew, she soon proved to be the most fearsome fighter and brilliant strategist the ship had ever seen. Around her neck she wears a string of gummy tongues, which her enemies mistake for real tongues. When she eats them, people really freak out. Her sword is always bloody, and her heart is always pure.

Cabin Boy: Stats Creagar

Even Halfbeard's brother is not exempt from the ships hierarchy. As the last to join the crew, and the youngest, Sam "Stats" Creagar has many responsibilities aboard ship. He is the cook, the swabby, the master of arms, and the latrine cleaner. He has proven himself in battle, losing an eye to a cruel, yet surprisingly apologetic pirate off the coast of Maine. While Stats is on the rise as a pirate star, his career has been slowed somewhat by his need to be put in port every weekend from late August until February, as he has not yet convinced Captain Halfbeard to subscribe to the NFL Channel.

Grania

The toughest pirate ever to walk on four legs...except SR when he has been in the grog....Grania does her namesake proud. She may seem sweet and jovial, but try to take her bones, and she will chase you right off the plank! She also has full use of both eyes, but loves the patch...so we let her keep it on.

And finally...

Keith the Pirate

Truthfully not the best in a fight, but he is useful in a bluff.

So that is the crew. And never has a finer one been formed. Now all we need is a ship and some financial backing. Who wants to help with this next, crucial, phase?

Ruining the Pirate Name

2009-04-16T17:41:00.003-05:00

Robert Louis Stevenson would be appalled my friends.

For those who have not been following the news, Somalian Pirates are out of control. They have been taking ships for years, but now have sworn to attack every American ship they can find. They are attacking ships of other nations too.

I am not going to debate whether Hillary Clinton can successfully come up with a plan to stop these rogues. Nor will I bring in other countries' solutions.

What I want to say here is that the good name of piracy has been attacked, and I for one am horrified.

The fact is, piracy has always been a terrible occurrence. Pirates of the 17th century were, as now, murderers, thieves, plunderers, and degenerates. They were truly feared, and those who encountered them rarely survived unharmed.

BUT

With the passage of time, and the help of fiction, we have managed to transform the terrors of the sea into lovable rogues who really want to be good, but their nature fights them at every turn. Jack Sparrow, The Dread Pirate Roberts, One Eyed Willie, even Captain Hook have carved out a place of affection in our hearts.

Now we dress up like them for Halloween. We have books, websites, even an entire day dedicated to how they talked.

I have an inflatable pirate named Keith who lives in my house.

Pirates are FUN!!!

Then these Somalian pirates start up. They are not fun. They are not Robin Hood-esque. They do not leave you smiling as you tut-tut them. They have returned piracy to something evil and wrong.

And I for one will not stand for it. Keith will not stand for it. And neither should you.

Hillary Clinton has her plan. I have mine. First, I need some money. Then I need to learn how to sail. Scratch that. I need to find someone who knows how to sail. Then I need 15 or so brave souls. We are going to become PIRATE HUNTING PIRATES.

We will dress the way pirates should, we will talk the way pirates talk, and we will be the lovable rogues that pirates should be.

And when pirates attack, they will suddenly find themselves in the shadow of the Black Dawn, our very own pirate fighting ship.

Every pirate will fear our name.

And the chicks will dig us.

Speaking of you lasses, do not be afraid to sign up to fight with me, Grainne Ni Mhaille (Grace O'Malley) proved that women can be awesome pirates too!

So who's with me? Who wants to fight the pirates? And bring back the lovable, laughable antics that make books like this so lovable.

Oh, and can anyone bankroll it for me?

Well Damn....an Update

2009-04-09T09:46:00.002-05:00

So six months ago I was diagnosed with Diabetes. I thought now would be a good time for an update.

At six months here are my stats:

Lost 100 lbs.
A1C: 5.6
Cholesteral: Tris are low and "good" chol. is up
Blood Pressure: Fantastic (nurse's actual statement)

The weight loss advantages are obvious. The A1C is exciting because an average diabetic's is 7.7. And average regular person's average is 4.4-5.8. I obviously fall into that range.

So I am doing pretty well. I am off insulin, and now take metphormin only. I do not even take my blood sugars anymore. I am needle free.

God has been good and so have all of my friends. The encouragement has been amazing. Whether you have gone to the gym with me, put up with my picky restaurant eating, and perhaps some frustration at times.

I still need to lose about 70 lbs, and by all reports this will be the toughest in the weight loss arena, because the easy weight has been worked off. But I am sticking to it.

So damn you diabetes....I win....damn you.

Shameless Plea

2009-03-29T23:54:00.004-05:00

So my dear friend put up a post about talk show hosts and their fame, and how they are famous for being tv hosts and how he wanted to have their job. (Run-on sentence complete)

He mentioned Pat Sajak.

Pat Sajak then commented on his blog. Or at least someone from Maryland who wanted him to believe that Pat Sajak commented on his blog.

This got me to thinking. Could I attract the famous people who are my "heroes" simply by writing about them? I don't know, but I know I must try. Famous ones reading this, I thank you in advance for your time.

Jessica Biel:

Ms. Biel, I have loved you for years. My friends mock me for my love, but I simply think you are great. I have seen your movies, even Summer Catch. When you auctioned a date with yourself, I seriously considered trying to raise the funds....it was for a good cause. However, I was only able to raise $10.73, and the winning bid was $30,000. I was close, oh, so close.

Bruce Willis:

I know that you are a busy man, so I won't waste your time with a list of things that make you more manly than any man on the planet, but it is long. It is my firm belief that any movie could be improved simply by having you in it. You are the man.

Salman Rushdie:

You are one of my favorite authors. Your book Midnight's Children is one I try to make all of my friends read. I would love to someday meet you and just listen to you tell stories. The way you weave history, fable, fantasy and fact make your creations stay alive in a reader's brain long after s/he has put down your book.

Sandra Day O'Connor:

As the first female Justice of the United States Supreme Court, I knew you had to be pretty cool. Then I saw you on The Daily Show. And you confirmed your coolness. Your intelligence and humor, as well as your drive to leave this country and world a better place than you found it was evident. I applaud your campaign to educate people about the government and judicial system which rules our country. I thank you for your service. I think you are a credit to Americans everywhere.

Norah Jones:

Ever since I first heard your album Come Away With Me I have scoured music stores for any and all music you have put out. I swear, you could read the phone book, and I would buy the album. Your smooth, wistful voice, which at times, like in the Little Willies album, can have a powerful edge to it, seems to invite the listener to sit down and relax, to partake in the joyous event that is your music. You are not just a singer or a performer, you are a musician. It seems to me that the music is a part of you.

Mike Rowe:

You know why you get the shout out. It isn't just Dirty Jobs. It isn't just Deadliest Catch. It is the fact that you are awesome. And cool. And that we all think that we know you just because we watch your shows. Way to be. Way to be.

And finally....

Frank White:

You have always been my favorite Royal. Growing up I always wanted to see you play when I came to the ball park. I am sadly too young to remember the 1985 World Series, but have seen highlights. Whenever people want to talk about that team, you are the first player that comes to my mind. I would love to someday shake your hand.

So that is all I have, my famous friends. Leave comments as you feel. C'mon, you know you want to. If Pat Sajak will do it, I know you will too.

Gary Sinise, Words of Wisdom

2009-03-21T14:23:00.002-05:00

This is an editorial written by Gary Sinise for CNN. I thought it held some great thoughts about our soldiers and our duty to them. I encourage you to read it.

(CNN) --
A while back, a friend of mine suggested that I take a look at a film that a buddy of his had made about his two brothers serving in Iraq.

Having spent some time there myself, I was eager to see it. Once I did, I wanted to do all I could to help the filmmakers find a distributor and get this wonderful film into the theaters.
I was honored to be asked to come on board as executive producer of the film, "Brothers at War," an honest and inside look at our military service members. It's told through the point of view of one brother who is in search of answers as to why his two younger brothers are serving in Iraq and what they and their families are doing during these long deployments.
I got involved with the film "Brothers at War" because I believe it shows a side of our military that is rarely seen. The call to duty that many of our military members share is depicted in the film through Isaac and Joe Rademacher.

They are the two brothers who Jake Rademacher, the filmmaker, travels to Iraq to see in order to experience for himself why they serve and what they are doing while deployed away from their families in this dangerous environment.

It makes me proud to know we have such men and women willing to give so much in defense of our nation.

I felt compelled to support this film because, on the many tours I have been on in support of our troops, I have met so many service members like the two Rademacher brothers in the film.
Isaac and Joe are military men. They are both called to serve their country and have endured great hardship. Yet they continue to serve and to serve honorably. And through them, Jake is introduced to other members of the service -- soldiers serving on the Syrian border and Marines training an Iraqi platoon.

Jake takes his camera into the middle of a firefight where the Iraqi troops are ambushed and fight back. This footage is unlike anything we have ever seen -- an Iraqi unit fighting back and standing up to a terrorist attack and the pride that their Marine mentors have in them. It is quite moving, and Jake Rademacher captures it all.

Several members of my family have served our country. My father, Robert, served in the Navy in the early 1950s. My Uncle Jack was a navigator on a B17 Flying Fortress during WWII. My Uncle Jerry served in the Pacific during WWII and my grandfather Daniel Sinise was in the Army in WWI.

My wife's two brothers served in Vietnam and my wife's sister served for 10 years in the Army. Her husband, Jack, served as a medic in Vietnam. While serving there he wore his dog tags on a rosary with a St. Christopher medal. I wore that same rosary and dog tags as my character, "Lt. Dan," in the movie "Forrest Gump."

I remember all too well what it was like for our returning military members during the Vietnam conflict. They were caught in the middle of a very divided nation and not only did they have to endure the scars of battle, but upon their return they also were spit on and shamed and ridiculed for their service.

Some decided to take off their uniforms in the airport bathrooms when they arrived home so as not to be identified with serving in Vietnam. We can never let that happen again to these men and women who serve this country. They should be able to wear their uniforms proudly. They fight and sacrifice in ways that very few of us can imagine.

Many years ago I got involved with Vietnam veteran support groups in the Chicago, Illinois, area. After September 11, 2001, once we started deploying our troops to Afghanistan and Iraq, I began a mission to let them know that they are supported and that there are people out there who are grateful for their service.

For over 35 years, we have had an all-volunteer military. This is a good thing. We want people to serve this country who want to be there and who do it of their own free will -- not because they are drafted and forced into it.

We are lucky we have such people. What would we do if no one wanted to serve to defend the freedoms we all enjoy? And so, I feel the need to do what I can to thank them for that service in order to help keep them strong in tough times. You would be amazed at what a simple thank you will do.

I have been to Iraq four times now, Afghanistan once, and many many other places as well, all to show support of our troops. My goal is always to cover as many miles as possible and to take pictures, sign autographs and shake hands with as many troops as I can in the time I have. Trips have included bases in Kuwait, Qatar, UAE, Bahrain and in Iraq -- Al Asad, Al Qaim, Ramadi , Habbaniyah, TQ airbase, Mosul, Balad, Tikrit and Baghdad.

Over the last six years, I have traveled around the world and all over the United States with the USO to visit and perform with my band, The Lt. Dan band, for our troops. I have supported many grassroots troop support efforts as well, and visited our wounded in the hospitals several times. I could not be more honored to play a small part in helping our troops and their families. We can never do enough for our veterans who have sacrificed so much to keep this nation free.

But we can always try to do more.

It is my goal to continue to visit our troops, wherever they may serve. It is the least I can do for the men and women who continue to do so much for our country.

God bless America.

Damn Fridays

2009-03-20T17:46:00.002-05:00

For a long time Fridays have been terrible days for me. It is horrible to say that, I know, but it is true. Fridays inevitably hold the most difficult tasks at work, the strangest bad luck falls my way, personal issues seem to come into play, and I am always just wanting the day to be over.

Usually I combat this day with two very awesome events. Friday lunch and Lotto Friday. Friday lunch is fairly easy to figure out....I go to lunch with every Friday. Usually with Ranger. Lotto Friday is held every Friday when either Ranger or myself, on alternate weeks, purchase anywhere from one to three scratch off lotto tickets. We then split any winnings. The largest we have won so far was $50. That was $25 a piece, and was spent wisely on movies (me) and a nerf gun (Ranger).

That is what I usually do. But today, Ranger was gone. Took the day off. I was alone. Here are some highlights of the day:

Boss sick.....move-in on me
Grandmother in hospital
Drunk resident kicks in his own door....then lies...we fought...only verbal
Sink broken,....two hours to fix because of age
Hurt hand....never punch a tree

Overall, not good. The drunk resident was a doosy. Had it not been for a fellow co-worker, I really might have punched him. But I was saved from my own temper by a very good man, who called later to make sure I was calmed and was not going to let this ruin my weekend.

I should have gone to lunch today, but was too busy with ridiculousness. And no Lotto Friday because Ranger was gone. I could have been $10,000 richer, and money solves all problems....right?

Anyway, Whine Fest Friday is over. Weekend, I love ya, lets have a ball.

St. Patty's Day Quiz Results

2009-03-19T08:05:00.003-05:00

The answers were:

1. New York City on March 17, 1762.
2. Church
3. Chicago, although Savannah claims to have been the first, in 1961
4. 1759
5. James Joyce, Thomas Moore, Jonathan Swift, Bram Stoker, W.B. Yeats, George Bernard Shaw, Oscar Wilde...there are more
6. No Irish need Apply
7. Ireland Forever
8. Blarney, County Cork
9. Green, White, Orange
10. Used by monks to hide gold from plundering Vikings

Bonus: There are 4 places in the United States named Shamrock. Mount Gay-Shamrock, W.Va., and Shamrock, TX, Shamrock Lakes, Ind., and Shamrock, OK.

The winner is.....Kristen! She answered 2.5 questions correctly, but recieved an extra point for flattery on the Irish Authors question. Grand total: 3.5

Second place goes to Karlie, who correctly answered 2 questions, but had actually kissed the Blarney stone, giving her a full bonus point. Grand total: 3

And last, but certainly not least: Miss Tiffany. She actually only answered one question correctly, but the combination of a sweet story for the monk tower, having actually seen Chicago's green waters, and complimenting the post gave her an extra point and a half. Grand total: 2.5

Thanks for playing!

St. Patrick's Day

2009-03-17T08:02:00.006-05:00

Top o' the mornin to ya!

This day, this fine Spring day is one of my favorites. Not because of the excuse to drink Guinness....who needs an excuse? Not because you get to pinch people not wearing green....but I will pinch you. No, St. Patrick's Day is a favorite of mine because it is a day when everyone you meet is Irish....how could life get better than that?

And now, some St. Patty's history:

Saint Patrick was not Irish by birth. He was in fact from Britain. As a teenager (16 I believe) he was kidnapped by Irish slave traders who took him back to Ireland. There we was enslaved for 6 years before he escaped and made his way back to Britain. In his writings he wrote about God speaking to him and telling him it was time to leave Ireland. He traveled 200 miles to the Irish coast and hopped a ship back home.

No sooner had he returned to his homeland than God began to call him back to Ireland, but this time to spread God's love. He spent at least fifteen years becoming a priest, and then back to Ireland he went. There he began to introduce a mostly pagan people to Christianity. He was a very smart and capable teacher, and he used the belief system already in place in Ireland to explain the wonder of God. He used bonfires at Easter, because they were already a large part of the Spring Equinox celebration. He is credited with the "invention" of the Celtic Cross, imposing the sun, a pagan symbol, onto the cross.

The man's life was fantastic. He left a legacy of love and God's power that still holds much of Ireland today. Even the stories that are most likely not absolutely true show the power of God he portrayed. There is a legend that he, using God's power, ordered all of the snakes in Ireland to cast themselves into the sea. And, there are no snakes in Ireland to this day. While he gets the credit for coming up with running the snakes out, it is God who receives the glory for having the power to do so. There is also a legend that St. Patrick used the Shamrock to describe the trinity (3 leaves connected as one). Historians can show no evidence of this, but it highlights his ability to use the land and customs that the Irish people were used to to explain the wonder of God to them.

So this St. Patrick's day, while you are toasting the Luck of the Irish, reflect a bit on the actual man, and what we can truly learn from him. He was a man who was abused, but rather than hold a grudge against the people who entrapped him, he used the experience to better serve God. He was a man who listened to God's voice. Hearing God say to leave Ireland could not have been that difficult to stomach, but then being called back? And away he went. But it took fifteen years to reach that goal. I am struggling with the thought that I may have to go to school for three years to go where God wants me. From St. Patrick we can learn that in serving the Lord we are on His time, not ours, and it may be better to be prepared to serve fully than to just rush into a situation "In the name of the Lord".

So go, drink you Guinness- I know I will-, but remember today who we are actually celebrating, and send up a toast to him, and a thanks to God.

And now, a St. Patty's day quiz. No Cheating by looking up answers or looking at others' responses!:

1. Where and what year was the first St. Patrick's Day Parade held?

2. Up until the 1970s, where could you find most Irish on St. Patrick's Day?

3. Which American city is famous for dying its river green every year on St. Patrick's Day?

4. What year was Guinness first brewed?

5. Name three famous Irish authors

6. Today, we love the Irish, but what famous sign might an Irishman looking for work have found hanging in windows on the east coast in the mid 1800s?

7. What does the phrase "Erin Go Bragh" mean?

8. Where is the Blarney Stone found?

9. Name the three colors on the Irish Flag

10. What was the tower in the picture below used for?

Bonus: Name the four states in the United States with towns that have Shamrock in their name.

Alrighty my friends, enjoy the day!

LSAT Practice Test 1

2009-03-15T19:26:00.002-05:00

I am now officially practicing for the LSAT. I have been studying for a short while, now I am practicing. The difference? I took a test. It was long. My brain hurts. Concentrating for that long a period of time makes me want to smack my head into a wall.

Results:

75 out of 100 questions answered correctly. 25 misses. Raw score: 160

Median score is 152.

I am in the approximate 82 percentile rating.

If I can answer ten more correctly, I will be in the 93rd percentile.

10 more people. Let's do this.

This time around I did not time myself "officially". Unofficially I only went over on one section.

The next practice test will be timed. Anybody want to come watch a movie on my 40'' flat screen blu-ray set up and administer a timed test? Offers on the table.

Guaranteed To Make You Smile

2009-03-10T23:36:00.002-05:00

In this week before Kansas State University's Spring Break many of my friends are feeling the midterm push. So I thought I would collect these things to help you when you need a break.

Enjoy.

*note* Anyone not taking midterms, you are welcome to follow these if you too are in need of a fun-filled break

Follow this for a musical moment of joy

Follow this for distractions that can be found in your own home

Follow this if you are writing a paper

Follow this for a nostalgic break

Follow this to have your faith in humanity restored

Follow this when you need to pick a movie

Follow this so you can quote a genius

This too

And this

Follow this to laugh out loud

And finally, follow this to see how much healthier you are now

Sambo

2009-03-09T08:54:00.011-05:00

My brother was hurt that he had no featured pictures in the photo post, so here are some of him. Enjoy Sam.

Sam went through a phase where he had to have the world's longest belt.

Family defender

Happy baby

Happy grade schooler

Happy inventor

Purple Pride from early on

He loves me

So that is Sam.

Fake Patty's Day

2009-03-07T16:46:00.003-06:00

I love being an Irish-American. I feel closer to my Irish heritage than any of the other "origins" in my bloodlines. Ireland is a land of rich culture, fantastic people, compelling stories, and mystical mythology. It has born some of the world's greatest authors, artists, engineers, pastors, innovators and inventors. The Irish have mixed music and passion to create some of the world's most beautiful music.

I am also proud of my alma mater, Kansas State University. I believe that Kansas State students are some of the hardest working and most brilliant minds available. I believe that the faculty and administration at Kansas State University works hard to maintain a valued, safe, and inspiring community for its students to grow. It is with pride that I announce I am a Kansas State University Graduate.

Lastly, I love Manhattan, KS. It is a beautiful place to live. It provides the excitement of a college town, and the feel of a small town community. It is at the edge of the Flint Hills and home to the Konza Prairie, a special piece of God's beauty. It is a town I could live in for the rest of my life...if such a thing is possible for me.

HOWEVER

When my town Manhattan mixes my Irish heritage and my Kansas State University students, mixes it up with cheap, skeezy beer and a day or drunken revelry and has the gall to call it Fake Patty's Day.....grrrr.

Fake Patty's Day, when the town smells of beer and vomit by sundown. Where idiots who have been drinking from 8am on decide around 3pm the best way to spend their time is to play chicken with oncoming traffic. When thousands of supposedly academic collegiates leave their homes to trash their bodies and the streets of this fair city.

Tomorrow morning there will be so many headaches in this town that stock in Tylenol will be worth 2 points more on Monday. Aggieville will look like the trash removal services in town got lazy and dumped their trucks in the streets. People will be waking up in houses they have never seen before, and many will be waking up in a cell, trying to remember which antic got them there.

I am all for drinking. I am all for celebrating Saint Patrick's day with a fine Irish beverage.

But creating a day that excuses people from acting with any sort of self control or decency in order to make a buck (because as we all know, on Saint Patrick's Day our student body will mostly be out in the world breaking in Spring), that is not working for me.

Using this day as an excuse to drink oneself into a stupor and yell obsenities to all passers-by....also not cool.

Fake Patty's Day, how I loathe thee.

Photo Fun

2009-03-01T21:09:00.017-06:00

The Zorn Barber Shop in Texas

I am working on a project for my family. I am scanning in all of the pictures that I could find from my grandmother's vast photo collection, so that we will have them preserved. Here are a few that I have scanned that I find humorous or cool. Enjoy.

My dad knows how to party.

So does his friend Richard.

Grandpa Payne had a wicked cool beard

On the left, my grandma and grandpa

Whose idea was this picture?

And the scariest ancestor award goes to....
The 'rents in high school

Dad and Gypsy...my parents' first dog

A Royals fam from the start.

And to finish, a very suprised baby John.

Well, hope you enjoyed. Now go look through your families old pictures. I can almost guarantee you will find some treasures.

Entertainment Rundown for the Weekend

2009-02-15T21:07:00.003-06:00

This weekend was for the most part spent indulging in entertainment, be it cinematic or literary. Save for a short stint of work involving disposing of paint and some much needed shopping, I fed the mind. Items and thoughts follow:

Thursday Night: Some say the weekend starts on Friday eve....not in my world

King of King: A Fistful of Quarters

This is an amazing documentary. You may think that you don't care about video games, but you are wrong. One evening with these characters and you will be sucked in. My application to Twin Galaxies is currently being reviewed. Down with Billy Mitchell.

Friday Night: Feeling anti-social, time to catch up on my shows.

Criminal Minds
Scrubs
CSI: New York
Scrubs
24

That is the order I watched them in. CM was good, but not the best. Scrubs is always hilarious, except Todd Bosley. I am not a fan of Todd Bosley. It's personal. CSI...eh. 24. Now that is a show that is picking up speed. I can't wait to see what happens on Monday.

Saturday Morning: Time for some humor.

Be Kind Rewind

Coop said it best. Very funny, but no wrap up. It left me feeling dissatisfied with my morning choice. The re-makes, however, were awesome.

Saturday Afternoon: Time to turn off the tube, and read a book.

Cross by James Patterson

In the brain candy department, this is a favorite. The series, starring Alex Cross, a street-smart and brain smart detective from Washington D.C., began with Along Came A Spider. I have followed it ever since. Does it change my world view? No. Does it relax my brain and let me have some fun. Yes. Is it about serial killers? Yes. Is it normal to "relax" while reading about serial killers? No.

Saturday Afternoon: Took time out for the K-State/KU game

It was an entertaining game, but I would have liked to see K-State win. I hate KU.

Saturday Evening: Some peeps came over, time for some culture

The Motorcycle Diaries

This is a favorite of mine. I had seen it before, but many (if not all) of the others had not. While it gives a very whimsical picture of Che Guevara's mid-twenties trip across South America, it is a beautiful story. On top of that, the cinematography is fantastic. The scenery as Guevara and Granado travel is breathtaking. It is enough to make a fella want to travel the world again.

Sunday Afternoon: My morning was my own. Mind your own business.

Monk
Psych

Monk was okay. Psych was grand. It spoofed Friday the 13th. And it showed on Friday the 13th. And it was hilarious. That show is brilliant.

Sunday Evening: Time for the reel thing. Haha. I went there. Reel thing. I am a genius.

The Strangers

After Psych, I knew I needed the real thing, so I grabbed one of my current Netflix movies and settled in for horror. I was somewhat impressed. It was a bit slow at first, and then traveled at break-neck speed through the end. Two big jumps for me, the rest was just good and creepy. Oh- and the "based on true events"? Well, if you believe Wikipedia, which I am hesitant to do, it was based on a series of break-in robberies in writer/director Bryan Bertino's home town. The killer profiles were influenced by Helter Skelter and the Manson murders. All in all, not a bad way to spend 1 hour and 26 minutes.

Born Into Brothels

I went in a completely different direction to end my entertainment weekend. I had never seen this film, and I must say, I was impressed. I felt that it did an excellent job of portraying the children without trying to play on their emotions to make the viewer connect. We did not have to see the children cry or tell us their horrible stories, we just had to look into their eyes, and listen to their responses about how their lives would turn out. And while some have said that this was a western propaganda movie showcasing India's problems and presenting the West as the only solution, I disagree. It was one woman's response to the pain she saw. She saw a problem, and she worked to fix it. And yes, that is a bit "western". We want to fix everything. That is how we roll, and it gets us into trouble. But I will take someone who acts first and fights hard to save a child over someone who wants to wait and see what will happen any day. So to those who think that solution must be thought over more, you are probably correct. But I will applaud those who move while you hash out the answer. Let me know when you are ready.

So that is the end. I have more movies to watch, more books to read. But I also need to get to Colorado, do some fishing, and hike the Konza. Perhaps soon I will have an "Active Weekend" to counteract my entertainment one.

2009-02-13T00:35:00.006-06:00

There are many things in this life that I love. In fact, there are so many things that I have a strong desire to list them here.

However I won't. Not tonight.

Tonight I want to talk about a love of mine that is growing. With the proximity to V-Day, you might think that this will be a confession that there is a special lady out there that has stolen my heart.

Her name is....

But what I am really writing about is my growing love for two fine instruments.

The

piano.

And the

violin.

I have always appreciated these instruments. The ability of a piano to bring joy to any event astounds me, and I always watched with jealousy as friends who could play bellied up to the keyboard and pounded out a tune for all to appreciate. And I had a friend growing up who could play the violin very well, and I loved to listen to her. My great-grandfather could also play. He was a fiddler, and a damn fine one. I loved listening to him get out the fiddle and bow and knock out a tune.

But as late I have come to truly crave these two instruments' sounds. Perhaps it comes from listening to public radio. Perhaps it is because of the cd my friend Natarj gave me. Or perhaps it is just a time in my life where the value of these amazing instruments is starting to break through.

Whatever it is, I love it. I want more of it. I have begun looking up great performances on You Tube. I have one on right now.

They both speak to me differently, the piano and the violin.

The piano holds for me excitement. It seems to exude energy. Whether it is being used to liven up a dance hall or impress relatives, a piano being played immediately becomes the center of a room's attention. As fingers glide from key to key, it is as though entire stories are being told. The piano physically brings thoughts to life. The tales that a piano player can tell are endless, without ever opening his or her mouth, and I love it.

The violin is also full of energy, but for me, it is a smoother, more concentrated energy. It seems to envelope me in warmth. A violin, seems to draw me to it. it is as though all within the sound of its music are under its care. It ties the world around it to it as is smoothly caresses it with the haunting melodies that slip from its strings. While the piano livens a room, the violin seduces. It makes those listening want to feel the emotions coming forth purely to be on the same wavelength of the player, to be a part of the player's dream.

But I am "young" in my love for these instruments. I don't know who I want to listen to. I don't know who the greatest players of our time....or previous times...are. I know a few orchestra's, but I want to know who I should listen to, which composers, new and old.

Now, when my friend Luke posted about his love of sugar cookies, dozens of cookies suddenly appeared on his doorstep. While I do not expect classical music to suddenly appear at my door (or even better, an actual violinist...haha...that would rock) I do expect some input here. Who do ya'll love?

Who plays the best violin today? The best piano? Who is writing the best, most provocative music for these instruments?

Let me hear from ya.

Love Love Love Love Love

2009-02-09T22:59:00.002-06:00

Today the negativity of the world began to encroach upon me. I awoke to discussions of troubles in Washington.

D.C. not the western state.

The stimulus issue was driving everyone crazy. Apparently the Democrats hate democracy and are lazy for just trying to apply a quick fix and the Republicans hate everyone who is poor...or maybe just everyone. Thus, we are supposed to hate them all.

This morning of bitterness left me thinking about the world I live in. Thinking about the anger and cynicism that abounds. Television shows, especially sitcoms, are fueled by angry people being funny. Songs are full of angry people plotting revenge on those who have wronged them. Movies are all about angry people getting even with their world.

The news highlights the evil in the world for 27 minutes and gives us three minutes of a local good deed.

Heck, this evening I even listened to a news piece about how a group of scientists is trying to keep other scientists from giving fun names to new genes found. Yup, you read right. I bet you didn't even know that some genes have fun names. Well go learn them fast because the joy killers want them renamed to sound professional.

ANYWAY

As I pondered this angry world, I began to yearn for some love. And I decided that love has to start here. Not just here within me, but here within my community. I live in a community that is honestly very good at loving people. But I have decided we need more.

So I am issuing a challenge.

Find somebody to love. And no, I do not mean this in the formerly Jessica Biel, now Rosario Dawson, perhaps Freida Pinto, love that I have.

I mean really find someone in your world whose life you can change by loving them. This may be a co-worker. Or a classmate. Or a homeless man you pass on the street. Or a business exec you pass on the street.

Whoever it is, or if you don't have one in mind, start praying for a person to love. Unselfishly. Without reason. Just ask God to give you love to pour out. And together, let's see what that love can do.

I know, even as I write this, that it sounds a little cheesy. But I think it could be a cool experiment. In a world driven my anger, fear, and uncertainty, I think that introducing pure love is a radical move.

For me, I think, it may be a resident who is a single dad in one of my buildings. He busts his hump to provide for him and his son. I see him nearly everyday, and he is a really neat guy. And today, as I was thinking about this love experiment, he came to mind.

So I am going to pray for him. I am going to ask God to give me opportunities to show him love. I will not tell him he is a project or an experiment, because while the radical love idea somewhat is, loving a person is not. I just want to pour God's love into this guy's life, even if he never knows it is coming directly from me.

Well, you have your challenge. Find somebody to love. We all need somebody. Don't you want somebody to love? Sorry.

But seriously. Start looking in your life for who you can intentionally love on that you are not already loving. And see where God takes that love.

And of course, let us all know what He does.

Dream a Little Dream

2009-02-07T09:56:00.002-06:00

I am, if I do say so myself, the greatest dreamer I know.

In this case I must point out that I do not mean daydreaming or future dreaming, though I am well accopmlished at those as well.

What I am referring to here is nocturnal brain cinema. I have the craziest, wildest, most vibrant and active dreams of anyone I know.

I have dreamed that I was a knight, fighting for a lady's honor. I have dreamed that I was a spy, in danger of being caught. I have dreamed that I was a murderer, and no one knew. I have dreamed that I was a bank robber, and a damn fine one at that.

I have had dreams where I can run faster than any human, and dreams where I try and try to run but get nowhere. I have had dreams where I have lived forever, and dreams where I have died almost instantly.

I rarely fly in my dreams, but often fall, and land.....hard.

I had a reoccuring dream for many years. I was in a house, and no one knew who I really was. Then one night, at dinner, a stranger came looking for me. I ran out the back of the house and jumped in an old truck. When I got in the truck I fumbled to get the right key in the ignition. I always failed, and would be shot and killed while trying to get away.

Then, one night, as I ran from the house, I had an inter-dream lucidity moment and knew what I must do to get out of the dream. I found the correct key as I ran to the truck. When I jumped in, I started it and got away. For the first time in years of having that dream I moved on in it. Several more things happened, and the dream actually was rather disturbing after that, but I have never had it again.

Once I dreamed that I saved a good friend from a very dangerous foe using a claymore sword. It was awesome.

And one special night I dreamed about the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Indeed, she was the most beautiful woman ever to grace the earth. She was Helen of Troy, Cleopatra, Aphrodite, and Jessica Biel all in one. And for the life of me I cannot remember a single thing about her. I know she was there, but her beauty was so grand my mind cannot recreate her.

I dream about people I know and people I don't. I always find it interesting when I see people I don't actually know in my dreams. It is fascinating to see what my mind creates.

Some people think dreams have hidden meaning, and I think that is probably true, though I never really try to delve into mine.

When they are disturbing, like my dreams last night, I pray for the Lord to clear my mind. When they are hilarious and odd, like my dream the night before last, I relish them and try to remember every detail.

What about you? Do you dream? What do you dream of? C'mon, tell us. Maybe you can claim my title of best dreamer....but I doubt it.

Seth Childs, I am proud

2009-01-30T10:12:00.003-06:00

Today, as I made all important work phone calls, I meanered over to Seth Childs Theater's page to see what movies were showing. Gran Torino is still out, which I need to see. Taken looks interesting, I will probably check it out, especially if anybody else is going. The third Underworld is showing, and having loved the first and tolerated the second, I will probably see it against my better judgement. And I should see Benjamin Button because of the Oscar prowess.

But the most exciting news is that SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE is showing at Seth Childs now! I know, we are all excited. If you haven't seen it, and you live in Manhattan, let's go see it. Tonight. Maybe even this afternoon. (This is a test to see if my boss ever reads my blog)

So, now you know what I need to see. If one of these is beckoning you in for some hours of entertainment, call me, let's all go to the movies.

I'd Rather Be....

2009-01-28T21:03:00.003-06:00

It is currently 33 degrees Fahrenheit in my fair city. The wind chill makes it feel like 27...according to weatherchannel.com.

Yesterday it was colder than today, and the day before that, even colder.

And yet, I have been carrying in my truck since last weekend a tool which aids me in my pursuit of my absolute favorite way to spend my time.....my calculator.

Just kidding. I hate math. I know some say it is great, that it has been the lynch-pin of civilization and that I could not be typing this without it. I still say the bad outweighs the good in the math world. Case and point, my sophomore year pre-calc teacher. Only something based in pure evil could produce such a man.....

But I digress.

I have been carrying around my fishing pole.

Yes, many say it is too cold. And they are probably right. But that is not going to stop me. The first chance I get, that line is going in the water.

I love to fish. When I was a kid, I used to dream about being a professional fisherman. Then I learned that they have to be super competitive and work hard to catch fish all of the time. That dream was destroyed. Because for me, fishing is not about catching fish.

And at times that is a good thing.

No, while catching fish is important, for me it is all about the act of fishing.

It is about choosing the spot.
Right over there is a tree hanging over the water. The fish will believe my lure came from the tree. No, maybe there where the land juts out, and I can get the most access to the water. No, there, where I can see an old submerged tree, that is where the bass will be hanging out. No, I am fishing for catfish, I need to find where the water is moving. Wait, there is a shady spot with plenty of space to sit, lay back, spread out, take a nap....if I were a fish, I would be there.

It is about choosing a lure.
Maybe because this one is your favorite spinner. Maybe because this water looks murky and the coloring might show up better. Or topwater is going to work better. Or because you dad loves rubber worms and you feel that you should actually learn how to use one some day. Or you believe that this lure is your lucky lure that you always catch fish with and actually once dove into the water to recover it from a tree it was snagged on.

It is about the casting.
Choosing the spot you want. Factoring for wind. Getting the right grip on the line. Releasing at just the moment. Deciding the lure is just as good where it landed, perhaps better than where you planned.

It is about the retrieval.
Bring it in slow. Bring it in fast. Let all the circles disappear before bringing it in. Reel for a moment and then let it rise. Then get mad/bored/loose sight of it and just bring it on quick to cast it back where you *#$%ing wanted it in the first place.

It is about the strike.
My dad has this ability to walk a rubber worm along the bottom of a pond and talk the fish into taking it. He starts with whispering. He becomes friends with fish, earns their trust. Then he urges. He encourages them to try the tasty morsel he has placed before them. Then he orders. Then he begs. I have seen this work dozens of times. Me, I like to make the fish think I am not expecting in any way for them to strike. "What, is that a lure I put in the water? Huh. Did not even notice. I was just looking at that beautiful cloud up in the sk- HA! Got ya! You thought I wasn't really fishing and that was not my bait, but it was! Haha! I wi- oh, nevermind...just a stick...."

But really, it is about the time spent disengaging. When you are sitting on the water, everything and nothing rushes through your mind at the same time. You can solve all of the world's problems, or try to decide if you like turkey or ham the most. You can wrestle with God, or you can think about Mickey Rourke in his acting comeback The Wrestler. You can contemplate the beauty of the world around you, or you can contemplate the beauty of the girl you wish was around you. And if you actually catch a fish, you can tell it what you have decided. It will be so desperate to get back where it can breathe, it will agree with whatever you say.

I can stay out fishing for hours, get lost in the day. Many a time have I headed out some sunny afternoon, or even morning, and had my papa or my brother come looking for me at dinner time. For me, it is a timeless activity that only has the constraints of others' schedules.

So why this post about fishing? I donno, I just really, really want to go.

Love 146

2009-01-20T23:56:00.003-06:00

This past weekend I went to a benefit concert for Love146. Besides discovering that I am actually a fan of Waterdeep and getting to see some friends play and sing worship on the stage, I learned about an amazing group of people who are fighting for God to change the world.

Two children per minute are trafficked for sexual exploitation.

Let that sink in.

There is a lot of evil in the world. There is a lot that needs to be fought and destroyed.

However, nothing, for me, is of greater need of obliteration than the fact practice of selling children for sex.

When I was eleven I remember riding my bike up and down the street, learning to fish, and playing with my cousin safe and sound at my grandmother's house. At The Apocalypse Bar in Cambodia a couple sold children as young as eleven to pedophiles.

Many people have heard of IJM, a fantastic organization that uses legal methods for freeing children all over the world, as well as aiding those wronged by corruption. They fill a need in this world.

Love146 does as well. They have a bit of a different area that they cover. They looked at the problem of child exploitation and decided that the needs they were called to answer were two-fold.

1. Prevention

The traffickers in every country (including the U.S.) are clever. They prey on desperate people, promising improved lives for impoverished children. They use lies, threats, anything they can to separate children from their homes. They will tell a family that the child will work for a major company, or be put into a government home and given education. The parents will gladly send their children off, believing they have done something wonderful for them.

Love146 works to educate the parents of children against these tricks. They know the stories used, and fight to stay one step ahead of traffickers. There have even been stories of villages chasing traffickers out of town, because they could recognize the danger!

What an awesome thought. If people are able to see the evil coming, they can fight it. They can hold back children, they can save innocence. Simply by ensuring that information is widespread and helpful.

2. Aftercare

Children will slip through the cracks. Brothels will have their victims. And then they must be recovered. Fought for. IJM fights to have the abusers jailed and the children freed. There is a fabled group of bikers who just bust in and take the children out. There are many, many fighting to retrieve the innocent from the hands of evil.

But when they are out, then what? Their lives have been crushed. What should have never happened has happened. Love 146 Co-Founder Rob Morris describes them as robots, with all humanity driven from them.

Love146 is working to provide safehomes for these victims. These homes provide:

Housing, nutrition, clean water, clothing
Medical care, hygiene training
Psychological development, trauma counseling
Education, vocational training
Spiritual development
Art, play and music therapy
Recreation, cultural social experiences
Life planning and reintegration to society

Amazing huh? And what a brilliant plan. My heart screams out to attack their attackers, to destroy those who destroy, to take the children and run them far away. But that is as far as my mind runs. Because hatred can only take you so far. It drives to more evil, not less.

These people have instead chosen love. They love these kids. In a pure, Godly, truthful way. They teach these children what love is by loving them. They provide for their needs. They fight to show them that they are something beautiful, unique, beloved. Evil may have tried to convince them that they were trash, useful only for carnal abuse, then destined to be discarded and forgotten. It may have almost had success. Except that love, God's love, the true love that is pouring out from this community, completely trumps the lies of evil.

In the safehouses children do recover. They discover that they are people, not objects. They learn to play, to socialize, to LOVE, and to be loved.

This is just the tip of what these amazing people and this amazing organization is about. I urge you to check them out yourself. They are changing the world. They are trusting God to use them in ways that seem impossible. They are challenging you and me to do the same.

I say let's do it.

A Contest Follow Up

2009-01-20T22:25:00.002-06:00

Well, this contest did not get the response I was hoping for. However, those who participated, your entries were awesome. And now without further ado.....

The Winner is j wright with

1)Miles Davis "Birth of the Cool"
2)"Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band"
3)Michael Jackson's "Thriller", not b/c I like it, but it was representative of the era
4)Pearl Jam's "Ten"
5)"Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison", 'cause I felt like I needed a country album

I struggled with accepting Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band at first, it nearly took him out of the running. But the judges panel helped me decide that the Beatles did directly influence a large part of American music. Therefore, the list could stand. And, with Miles Davis at the head and Johnny Cash rounding it off, this a a very excellent list.

5 albums is very difficult to do, and I am proud of those who tried. Thanks for playing. Oh, and j, if you want your prize, you will have to give me your address.

A Contest

2009-01-10T13:34:00.004-06:00

Today we are going to have a contest. There will be a prize for the winner*. If this goes well, there may be more.

If you had to choose five music albums that encapsulated American Music, both old and new, which would they be?

I will leave this for a week. Winner will be decided and announced next Saturday. Good luck.

*Winner will be determined by panel of judges that may include as many as three and as few as one persons.

What I Want to Be When I Grow Up

2009-01-06T22:23:00.004-06:00

Follows a list of things I may be when I grow up. Feel free to join me in any and all vocations.

1. A Pirate Pirate.

Pirates are no longer cool. Modern day pirates are jerks. So were historical ones, but time and romance have made them cool. New pirates....no coolness, just jerks. Therefore, I wish to hunt the pirates. I will dress in old school pirate garb, perhaps even have an eye-patch and definitely have a monkey. And on my ship, only pirate talk will be allowed. I will provide the Pirate Dictionary for those who need it. And we will capture pirates....it will be great fun.

2. Child Advocate Lawyer abroad and/or at home

I love kids. Not necessarily up close and personal, but everything a child is I love. And that innocence and delight that I experienced as a kid should not be taken away by adults and scumbags. So I want to help stop it. There is IJM, and there are also guys who ride in on motorcycles and steal the kids out of brothels. I would like to find the happy medium.

3. Bookstore AND Bar/Barbecue Joint Owner

Two stores. One, a used book store. It will have fantastic books and a well read staff. Like the Dusty, for you Manhattanites. The other, a great place to eat barbecue in the day and drink with friends at night. I could run both. I just need a good night manager/bartender. Any takers?

4. Secret Agent

I can't actually say any more on this subject.

5. An Eccentric Collegiate Professor

I want to be the guy that has been everywhere, done everything, and is now teaching to try and save the next generation. I want to give assignments that drive people crazy, but then add to who my students are as a whole. In short, I want to be Dr. Robert Linder.

6. A Treasure Hunter

When I was a kid, I always dreamed of tracking down a major treasure. I knew it would be dangerous, that I might be killed trying to recover the lost City of Gold or the Dutchman's Mine, but that was the life for me. I could do it too. Did you know that out in the middle of Kansas somewhere there are gopher holes filled with pennies from a botched bank robbery in the 1800s? Yeah, I might find them someday, who knows.

7. A Dad

This could go with any of the above jobs, even the Secret Agent...don't ask how, I already told you I can't say more. I would love to someday be a poppa. Have some rugrats and be challenged with raising them to be the people God wants them to be. It would be an honor and terrifying, but it would be nice. Now I just need to find a wife. I am told this is the best order of things....

Well, that is what I want to be. There will always be more to add. luckily, I don't have to grow up for a few years.....or decades.....or ever, so for now I am safe.

Something in the Air

2009-01-04T00:36:00.003-06:00

Do you ever feel trouble on the wind? Ever smell disaster before it strikes? Ever stand outside and get that edgy sensation that something in the world if off kilter?

I do.

Today, for whatever reason, everytime I have stepped outside it has smelled like something dangerous is looking around every corner. At first, I shook it off, figured it had something to do with the dampness and my own head.

But then the North Wind started to blow. Now I usually love the North Wind. It brings a biting, head-clearing cold that I treasure. But today it felt as if something evil was riding the wind. That with every cutting blast of air the land was being filled with something more sinister.

Tonight, as I took my dog out back to go to the bathroom (the dog....not me), I could not shake the feeling that whatever the wind was bringing, it had arrived.

Sound odd? Yeah, to me too. But you, dear readers, will just have to put up with me. I feel what I feel, and who better to tell than you?

It is probably nothing, but I will say, check it out for yourself. Listen and feel what the wind is bringing. Be aware of your world, not just what it shows you, but also what it doesn't.

And pray for your world.

Enough strangeness for one night. Sleep.

Duchess of Carnegie

2008-12-29T22:46:00.004-06:00

I am, I admit, and old soul. I sit here in my "study" surrounded by history books, classic literature, and photographs of my family, some of members long dead.

I am, I admit, a romantic at heart. I love the stories that end with the hero succeeding. I love to think that true love conquers all, that bravery, courage, honor, and perseverance are all one needs to survive life. I know it doesn't always end up that way, but I want to believe that it can.

Perhaps that is why I want to move to New York and offer to fight to the death to keep this dear woman in her apartment.

Her name is Editta Sherman, age 96. Her home is in an apartment above Carnegie Hall. That is right, above Carnegie Hall. She has rent control. She pays.....ready for this....$650 a month.

She is a portrait photographer who has led her own fairytale life. She has known Andy Warhol, Henry Fonda, Paul Newman. She has photographed supermodels, actors, politicians, singers....and more. She is one of those rare people who not only captures history, but has become an active part of it.

And now, in the name of progress, she must go. Sanford Weill, the chairman of Carnegie Hall has decided he wants to use the apartments that she and several others occupy for rooms for music students.

I am all for music students. I am all for the Hall making some more money (which we know is why Weill wants to renovate. You can't make any money off of rent control).

But why, in the name of progress, must she go NOW. She is 96. She may live to be 106. If she does, you have lost ten years. In the meantime, almost all of the other tenants have moved out. Change their apartments. Let the music students get to know Mrs. Sherman, and let their lives be enriched by it.

It may not be fair, to let her stay and make others go. But fair, as my father would say, is where they give pigs blue ribbons. At 96 you have outlived fair. You get to do what you want. And she wants to continue living, maybe even die, in her home of over 50 years.

We live in a time when that useless punk Thoreau (that's right, I said it) has poisoned our minds with the thought that the elderly have nothing to teach us. In our new technological age, how could Editta Sherman possibly have anything wise to pass on? She is old, throw her out for the new!

Well, Thoreau was a fool, and so are we. We box up our elderly in group homes and we stop listening to them. We assume that they think nothing like us, and that they are just a burden. But people like Mrs. Sherman have seen enough of life to know what is important, and to know what lessons we really should focus on.

....rant on elderly over.....

So leave her be you heartless New York Chairman. Let her stay! Do not now, after so long, take her home!

LONG LIVE THE DUCHESS OF CARNEGIE!!!!

Slumdog Millionaire

2008-12-28T23:04:00.004-06:00

This will be brief.

Slumdog Millionaire. I saw it for the first time alone on Saturday. Then I saw it with a great friend this afternoon. I would go see again tomorrow.

It is amazing.

The cinematography is fantastic. Each shot was well thought out and composed to not only progress the story, but to truly engage the viewer.

The acting is superb. Every person plays their part well, not over doing it, not trying to steal the screen. Each character is believable, and either lovable or hateable...or I suppose both.

And the story. Ah the story. It is what stories should be.

I won't go into more detail today. I want people to go see it, then we can chat. I will probably post on it again soon.

If you live in Manhattan, you are out of luck. The theater here has once again skipped out on anything that focuses on another culture. But don't worry, Twilight and Bolt in 3D are still available.

But if you want to go to Topeka...nope, not there either.

Fine, go to KC. Watch it there. It will be worth the drive. And if you live in KC, or are visiting...then go now.

And if you are in Manhattan and want to drive to KC on Saturday to see it....I will go with you.

That is how much I love this movie.

A Merry Merry Christmas

2008-12-25T10:44:00.002-06:00

I love Christmas Eve. It is what every evening probably should be. My extended family comes over, we eat amazing chili and soup that my momma makes (and if you have never had my momma's cooking, you are missing out on one of the single greatest experiences in human life. I know many people say this, but my statement is confirmed by hundreds of people outside of the family.), and we have a grand old time. This year my cousin Amy's little girl went around with a rubber snake biting people....but only people with beards....I was bit seven times before the snake decided it liked me.

Then they all go home and the gift extravaganza begins. This year was extra fun because my nephew is two, which means is old enough to actually appreciate the gifts he receives. This year the big ones were Veggie Tales and a toy vacuum cleaner. That is right, a toy vacuum cleaner. Gotta love it. I was also excited for the gift us chittlins got my parents. It was a Blue Ray DVD player. And I think they loved it. We watched Happy Feet in Blue Ray, and it was amazing. Technology is neat.

After the gifts we focus on Jesus. Every year we read the Christmas Story from Luke, although really momma just says it from heart. And this year my brother in law played his guit-fiddle and we had some song worship. It was a great way to focus our hearts on the true meaning of the holiday.

I love Christmas, and I love my family. Thus these past fews days have been fantastic.

Hope yours has been just as blessed.

A Nagging Thought

2008-12-21T23:37:00.004-06:00

So last night I went to see the movie Seven Pounds, and ever since then, something has been bothering me. Something I need to get off my chest. It has been an inkling for a while. I have noticed it in other movies, but it was not until last night that I really came to terms with it.

Rosario Dawson may just be the hottest actress in Hollywood.

She is amazing. And educated. And hot. And, a really great actress.

I am still slightly obsessed with Jessica Biel. I still can't get past Angelina Jolie's forbidden sex appeal. I still think that Salma Hayek is WAY sexier than Penelope Cruz.

But Rosario Dawson may have them all beat, hands down.

Man, do I feel better getting that out there in the open.

The Itch

2008-12-19T23:12:00.002-06:00

I feel it.

I don't even want it.

I am happy where I am.

I am settling in, creating relationships, finding community.

I want to be here.

And yet....there it is.

The itch.

To move.

To move on to the next adventure, the next place, the next challenge.

Sometimes, when it happens, I can take a short trip, and it goes away.

Not this time.

The trip did not help.

It may have increased it.

So where to?

Do I just throw a dart and head that direction?

Sell what I own, grab the dog and go?

I told myself I wouldn't.

Said I don't want to travel alone anymore.

I want the settled home, the relationships, the community.

And yet.....this damn itch.

Irrational Fears

2008-12-15T22:35:00.003-06:00

Ranger's recent post about his favorite things started a trend that has reverberated through the known world. I have heard that Obama even decided to list his favorite things. Oddly enough, winning the presidency was 4th, after "eating licorice till I am sick", but before "sneaking a cig when Michelle is not looking"

Anyway, I am feeling a bit too pessimistic about life to list my favorite things....perhaps another day. No, I am forging my own trail. I will now list my irrational fears. Considering the fact that no one participated in my reading list except the amazing Sara, I fear this will be a very short trail. But then, my life has been built on short trails.

Anywho, my fears:

1. Spiders.
Of any size. The fear grows the faster they are. Big, slow ones I can handle. Fast little buggers, I cry like a wee babe. I am not proud of this, but it is who I am.

2. Closed shower curtains.
Maybe this is Alfred Hitchcock's fault. Or more likely Event Horizon. Maybe it is just my own over-active imagination. But I enter many bathrooms for my job, and every time there is a closed shower curtain, I get nervous. I always open them, but there is a moment before I see they are clear that I am filled with sheer terror.

3. Sub-terranian public transportation.
It is not the people. It is not the closed in spaces. I don't know what it is. But I do know this. I will not board one by myself. I think it is because I am afraid that I don't know where I will get off. And what if I get off in the wrong place and can't get back on in time? What if it suddenly transports through time and space, and I am stuck like Scott Bakula in Quantum Leap in alternate dimensions? IT COULD HAPPEN.

4. Spontaneous Combustion
You just laughed. I heard it. But it is real. Documented. And from the time I was about 12 to about 20 I was truly afraid it would happen. The fear has lessened now, but the possibility is always lurking.

5. Dark Water
I once skipped out on swimming with a very beautiful girl because she wanted to swim at night. We could have been married by now. However, we could also have been eaten by terrifying creatures of the deep that only surface at night. My rule is, if you can't see your foot in the water, it might get bitten off. This includes puddles, swimming pools, and bathtubs (all only if there is no light. I do not fear them if they are lit...that would be ridiculous). And muddy lakes. And deep ocean, where you can see your feet, but sharks swim really fast. As does the Kracken.

Hmmm, I do feel better after naming my fears. They may be irrational, but they are real. You know you have some too. C'mon. Share for the world.

Bainy's Book LIst

2008-12-07T22:24:00.001-06:00

My friend Bainy and I were chatting the other night, and the topic wandered into the realm of books. She said "I think God wants me to start reading again." I told her that God had told me to tell her yes. Later I felt that in truth, God had not specifically told me this, and that perhaps I should not lie about what the Lord God is saying. False prophets seem to have a great deal of trouble coming, according to the bible....

But I digress. Here for Bainy, and anyone else's viewing pleasure, is Bainy's Book List. I challenge any who reads this...yes, all three of you....to read any book on this list, and then call me. We will go have coffee, tea, beer, or perhaps some nice tap water, and discuss them. I will buy.

First, a list of one's that most have heard of, classics if you will, that must be read:

The Hiding Place by Corrie Ten Boom
The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas
One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich by Alexander Solzhenitsyn
1984 by George Orwell
Beowulf
To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee

This is not exhaustive by any means. I love the classics. If you have read all of these, I have more.

Now, onto some specific books. Some are serious, others less so.

Love in The Driest Season by Neely Tucker

To begin with, a book that will wrench your heart in half in the first few pages and spend the rest of the book rebuilding it. Neely Tucker is a journalist who, with his wife, traveled to Zimbabwe in 1997. There he saw a country devastated by AIDS and poverty. They also fell in love with a baby girl they knew was to be their daughter. As Tucker revisits the trials and tears of trying to adopt this beautiful baby girl, you will get a look at what real love is. The sacrifices and troubles he encounters will cause you to weep. The joys and love he experiences will cause your heart to soar. I start with this book because it is one all should read.

The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien

A memoir of sorts, this is a fictionalized telling, in essay form, of the lives of soldiers in the Vietnam War. It is guaranteed to broaden your perspective and touch your heart. Read it without crying, laughing, and cringing, and you must be a robot. In which case go read some Isaac Asimov.

A Man Called Peter by Catherine Marshall

While technically a biography, this is also a love story written by Peter Marshall's wife. It is a love story that involves not just a man and a woman, but a man and God. Peter Marshall was a man who knew how to be in love with God, and how to experience God's love. And he was Scottish. His wisdom, tenderness, passion, and fervor come through in a personal telling of his life that only his wife could tell. If you love a good love story, read it. If you love to read about real people who chased the Lord with all they had, read. Just read it.

The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini

First, go and purchase a box of soft Kleenex. You will rub your eyes and blow your nose raw with the store brand stuff. This novel explores the world of Afghanistan and war, but more importantly the world of man. It challenges its reader. It will make you want to curl up in a ball and stand up against evil all at once. The "hero" of the book is no hero at all, but his journey throughout the novel creates in him the ability to become one. If you read this, be prepared to come face to face with humanity at its ugliest. But do it, be brave. Perhaps you too will come out prepared to be a hero.

The Brothers K by David James Duncan

Baseball, family, and religion. Need I say more? Three of the world's most powerful forces circle each other in this book, changing lives and hearts. Reading this book is like sitting down with your grandparents and listening to them tell stories about their crazy cousins. You grow to love them, and kind of want to be a part of their adventures. Just a good old classic American tale. Thus, if you don't read, you are un-American. And foolish. And maybe smell slightly. Okay, I take back the un-American....and the foolish....but seriously....deodorant....

The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon

I know what you are thinking. What this list is missing is a fantastic Gothic mystery novel. Well worry no more. This book has murder, sex, deceit, and mystery. You are in for a fantastic ride through Barcelona's underworld as you try to discover the secret behind the mysterious destruction of...books. That is right. But don't worry. People apparently get murdered, fall in love, and have fantastic secrets in Spain's book selling world. I promise, you will not be disappointed.

Round Ireland With a Fridge by Tony Hawks

What would you do if I bet you that you could not hitchhike around an island with a refrigerator. If you were Tony Hawks, you would take that bet. You would lose money, because the bet won't cover expenses, but then you would write a hilarious book that would make you more money. So you would be okay.

Midnight's Children by Salman Rushdie

This book contains some of the most beautiful writing I have ever read. The story that Rushdie weaves about the set of children born at midnight on the eve of India's independence is both hilarious and sobering. He weaves history with fantasy to create a world of ancient mysticism and modern realism. I guarantee that reading this will add to your wisdom AND imagination. A twofer.

The Drowned and The Saved by Primo Levi

Primo Levi, an Italian Jew who was sent to Auschwitz during the Holocaust, wrote several books on his experience. This was his final book, written 40 years after his incarceration. In it, he does not attempt to tell of what happened to him (I think he assumed he had done that with his past books), but rather to understand the life in the Lagers. This amazing memoir explores who survived, how they survived, why they survived, and what they became. He explores how such atrocities can come about, and how people can allow it to happen. He was convinced that without such analysis, and without constant reminders as to what happened and how, that the world could easily descend into madness again. This is one that I believe is a no brainer. Read it. You will be a better person for it. Just read it.

Ten Little Indians by Sherman Alexie

I will end with a collection of short stories from an amazing writer. He is a Spokane Indian who blends his life experiences into stories that comfort and haunt. His stories will make you laugh out loud, while causing you to question the world you live in. He writes with a passion and wit that will keep you looking for more and more of his works. Start with this one, and then just keep going.

Alrighty, this is just the tip of the iceberg. Read away. Tell me what you think. And of course, add to the list. If you have a book that you think I should read, let me know. I will add it to the stack, and the YOU can buy me coffee.

A Year Long Plan

2008-11-23T11:51:00.002-06:00

Last night, as I sat at a party with some friends, I had a moment of genius. We were discussing things that we had been wanting to accomplish, but had yet to do. Some were difficult because of cost, but we all agreed that the biggest "block" was simply letting the projects slip through the cracks of busy lives.

This led to a thought, and I think I am going to try to bring it to fruition.

Sometime in early January, I am going to throw a party. Those who attend the party will be asked to plan one year long project. It could be learning a new language. It could be building something they have always wanted to try. It could be traveling somewhere. Or writing a book. Seriously. Anything. The level of difficulty will be up to the person.

Then, we will write it all down in a notebook, and each person will sign their "commitment".

In one year, there will be another party, and people will bring their accomplishments to the party. We will all share in and enjoy each other's success of achieving something fantastic in one year.

Oh, and there is a penalty for not. If anyone does not accomplish their goal (barring personal tragedy of course), they will be required to pay $100 to a community fund. This will then be donated to charity.

It may sound a little cheesy, but I am actually excited by the thought of making this happen.

Anybody down for a challenge?

The Christmas Spirit

2008-11-19T08:18:00.002-06:00

It is November 19th.

I usually have a staunch rule against Christmas music, decorations, or movies until after Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving, I believe, should not be forgotten.

This year, however, I have started early. Last night I purchased Harry Connick Jr's new Christmas album, as well as Casting Crown's. I am already thinking through the movies I will watch this season. I am brushing up on my Linus reading of Luke.

I am ready for the season.

I think it is because I am excited for family and friends.

I think it is because I am excited for the cold, head clearing weather.

I know it is because I am yearning to feel a closeness to God that I always feel at Christmas. And don't give me the line about how I can have that year round. I know I should. But Christmas is a grand catalyst.

So bring on the holly jollies. Bring on the mistletoe. Bring on the Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

And bring on the baby Jesus. The reminder that God so loved this world that he gave his one and only son to be born in a barn and raised in fear. God could have smote us. He could have washed His hands of us and let the Devil take us. Instead He sacrificed for us, where he knew we couldn't.

A Story continued....

2008-11-10T08:17:00.002-06:00

For the beginnning of this story, check out A Boy and his Blog.

After what you have been through, trusting another stranger is the last thing you want to do.

You roll off the road into the dense brush in the run-off ditch.You are wet, tired, bleeding, and it is four hours until dawn. But you know you cannot die out here. You must get back to the one you love, and besides, you are not wearing clean underwear, and your mom always told you that if you ever died on the side of the road, you had better have on clean underwear. But it was laundry day.

As you get up and force yourself to walk, it begins to rain. Through the lightning flashes you see what appears to be a cave. Inside you could be warm and dry, at least until dawn.

As you approach the cave, you hear a loud screech that sounds as though it has come from within. Your blood runs cold.

Do you go into the cave to get dry or do you keep walking along the ditch?

Sunday Funday

2008-11-09T11:49:00.003-06:00

This Sabbath, as I sit here in my brown polyester sweatpants and fuzzy green sweater ( I know, you wish you could see me), I feel the need for some fun.

Perhaps it is the weather. Perhaps it is the recent election which seemed to tear our communities apart. Perhaps it is the feeling I get that some of my friends are burdened by life.

Whatever the reason, I need to highlight some fun, sweet goodness that life is offering me these days.

The Zoo
Yesterday was free zoo day here in the Promised Land. My friend Rachel invited me to join in on the festivities. While many animals, including the elusive cheetah, hid from the cold, we were able to see the Maned Wolf, a native of South America, and a large Bengal Tiger. We also heard a Sloth Bear bark. My bet is none of you...except Rachel and Luke, heard a Sloth Bear bark yesterday. I know, you are jealous.

New Friend
I have a new friend. His name is Nataraj Sundar. He is from Bangalore, India. He rocks. We have some very interesting conversations as we discuss and compare cultures. Today I am going over to his house for some traditional Indian food. Excitement level....pegged.

Grania
I know what you are all thinking. A pirate queen from the late 15oos brings John joy? The answer is....perhaps. But the greatest Grania I know is the nearly year old lab/houndog mix laying on my feet as I write this. She is a crazy pup, but really does bring me great joy, even though she likes to get up and pee at 4 in the morning.

Literature
I was going to type books, but I thought Literature made me sound more sophisticated. I love books. I love all genres of books. I am currently reading Hocus Pocus by Kurt Vonnegut, Twilight by Stephenie Meyer, Motoring With Mohammed by Eric Hansen, and re-reading The Drowned and the Saved by Primo Levi. I recently finished The Wayward Bus by John Steinbeck and The Baby Thief by Barbara Bisantz Raymond. Books have always been a fun adevnture for me. There are so many to read, and so little time! I will have to do an entire post of them, methinks.

The Cold Weather
Fun for me, dreaded by most. Suckers.

Scrubs
Season 7 comes out on DVD Tuesday. Feel free to come by Tuesday night and watch it.

Friends
I am ending on a cheesy note, but my friends have truly been a fun part of my life lately. Whether it is random trips to the zoo, hanging and watching movies, or just some lively conversations, friends are truly the spice of life.

Well, I just felt the need to show off the joys in my life these days, and these are only a handful.

What kind of fun/joy are you experiencing?

Why Vote?

2008-11-02T21:31:00.005-06:00

I have some friends who are really excited to vote.

I have some friends who love Barack Obama.

I have no friends who love John McCain.

I have one friend who loves Bob Barr.

I have some friends who have decided not to vote.

And that, dear reader, is what I take issue with tonight.

Voting, to me, is one of the greatest honors that comes with being born in America. We are a unique and fascinating experiment in government. We are not a true democracy, but we are a country striving to move, as much as possible with the will of the people.

Perhaps we have forgotten that we are an experiment. In the modern world of instant gratification and self centered thought, we tend to think we are the peak of civilization. So did the Vikings. And they had a god that threw hammers. But I digress.

Our experiment is not that old. It is, however, reaching stagnation. And I believe that it is because people have forgotten that this system was set up by a group of people who believed that in order to have a succesful and free nation, citizens MUST be involved.

Our forefathers saw what being complacent and going with the flow accomplished. They saw that when people allow the government to solve all of their problems, they become pawns in that government's scheme to grow stronger.

So the founders fought to create a more perfect union. NOT a perfect union. They realized that a perfect, Thomas More Utopia was impossible. To do this, they worked hard to create a system that worked for them in their time. BUT, they also had the foresight to see that the system would not work forever. So they built, as best they could, tools to change the government to better serve the people as time went on.

Thus, when the country needed to end slavery, there was a way to change the face of the country to do so.

When the country wanted to insure voting rights for all, including African Americans and women, the system was there to allow it.

When it was time to limit the presidency to two terms to keep a single person from gaining control of the office for life, it could be done.

As men returned from the Vietnam War and realzied they could die for their country at age 18, but not vote for or against the people who might send them to die, the Constitution was ammended to give them a voice.

When the country wanted to stop the production of alcohol, it had the means to do so, and when the country realized this was a terrible policy that should never have been implemented, it had the means to reverse it.

As the country has grown, matured, lost and gained ground throughout the world, the ability has always been there for The People to be heard, and the country they live in to be changed.

As we come to the eve of the 2008 elections, I believe that Americans, especially Americans of my generation have forgotten how the system works. Which I thoroughly don't understand because we all had School House Rock to show us how it was done.

We look at the candidates for the two major parties, and perhaps we don't like either of them. We hear about ACORN and voter fraud. We hear about campaign finance scandals. We see our "future leaders" acting like a pack of middle schoolers throwing insults across the the lunch tables. We know that the electoral college is a messed up system that is outdated and needs changing.

And we become discouraged. We begin to believe that it does not matter what we do, because the big money lobbyists, the national parties, the entire political machine is too powerful to stop. We know that true "statesmen" get eaten up in Congress by those with agendas. It all seems too big for us to attack.

So we begin to whisper that we should give up. That we should ignore D.C. and focus on doing what is right in our hometowns. We decide that if we want to change the world, we must hide from the political part and pursue the "grassroots" change.

And to a degree that is correct, but be careful about following the rabbit hole too far. Of course we need to personally fight for the change that we want. Of course we need to change the world around us, even if the political world doesn't listen. The end of slavery, civil rights movement, women's suffrage, union formation, even what little political reform we have had has started with individuals who would not give up on the need to change. But they saw, just like we must see, that for real change to have teeth, it must first be fought for in the streets, then in mass public opinion, then in politics, then CONTINUED on the streets.

It is a long and grueling process. It is painful. It takes too long. And my generation does not like things to take too long. We want our instant gratification. Don't believe me? Watch our face when the computer takes 3 minutes to send a simple e-mail. Damn machines.

Now, how does this all tie in to voting you ask? Thank you, excellent question. We can't change the world this election. No one running will do it. But we can continue to be involved and understand the meaning of the vote.

For those who think that the vote is not that important, I ask you to talk to the Vietnam Vets who came home from war and fought to have a voice. Talk to the African Americans who were blocked from the polls because of Jim Crow laws. Talk to women in Saudia Arabia who have no say in the lives they must lead. Talk to those who live in countries where the choice is vote for the guy in charge or don't vote at all.

Any of them would give their lives to have a say, to feel like, in some small way, they were heard.

I think, in the end, it boils down to laziness and helplessness. If we choose not to participate, we are choosing not to change. It is difficult, it is a fight. If we want to change the party system, the electoral system, the judicial system, it is going to take years. We may not even get to see the change. But to simply leave it, to decide that we will pursue better lives on our own and let Washington go to hell, is the lazy, and the dangerous answer.

And I know, there are many of my fellow Christians who are asking if Jesus would vote. Should a Christian invest time in a worldy system, or just pursue the life Christ told us to. And the answer is, you talk to Jesus and figure that out. I personally think it is far too dangerous to just pursue my God and let the government run itself. I think Corrie Ten Boom would agree.

That's right, I made the leap to the Nazis. I know, I lost some people there, but hear me out. The National Socialist German Workers' Party was able to move as they did because the German people were so disillusioned with the world they lived in that they stopped paying attention. They elected the person they thought would do the greatest good and the least harm, and quickly found themselves in a deadly situation. And there are countless accounts of Christians and non-Christians who decided to just live their lives and not worry too much about the politics. If life improved, or they could find a way to improve the lives of others, then everything would be okay.

But it wasn't okay. And a monster grew. And it could certainly happen again. Primo Levi spent the last years of his life screaming for people to not forget not only that the Holocaust happened, but how it happened. Becuase he knew that with time we would forget, we could become desensitized. And that we could fall into the same trap again.

Barack Obama and John McCain will not be the next Hitler. Biden...maybe. Just kidding. But to decide to not take a stand, to let the power that we DO have slip away is a dangerous precedent to set.

Our system is not perfect., It is absolutely flawed and outdated. There is a better way. But on Tuesday, I say that we continue to participate, And if we don't like it, let's fight to change it. It will be difficult. It will cause tears and pain and frustration. But it will remind us and others that "We The People" have a voice, we just have to get off our asses and find it.

*EDIT*
After a comment I received from a wise friend, I feel I need to further explain the lazy/hopeless conclusion. I am not saying that if you choose not to vote you are a lazy person. My friends who are not voting are industrious people, active in the world they live in. I am however, saying that not voting is lazy citizenship. We have a responsibility that goes with calling ourselves Americans. Part of it is to vote and take part in the political system. I say take part, not give all of ourselves to it. As a Christian I try to give my all to God. That does come first. But I also realize that I live within a governed nation, and that I have a unique ability to have a say in that nation. And I believe that it is my duty to do so. So I am saying that, in my view, the hopelessness that comes with being a voter, especially in Kansas, should not be enough to keep us from the polls. Indeed, it should be what drives us to them, and to take the time in the upcoming years to discover how we can have better candidates in the next election.

We can change the world, even the United States without taking part in the political machine. But we cannot ignore that machine. If it gets too powerful, then our freedom to work outside of it can and most likely will be destroyed.

And I want to close by saying that while I feel strongly about this, I do not meant to attack people. We live in a country where you can vote, but also may choose not vote. After Tuesday you will not hear my cries until the next election day. I will not tell you that you cannot have a say in the country because you didn't vote. But I will wear my "I Voted" sticker proudly for the next year.....

God and Facebook, Who Knew?

2008-10-29T21:51:00.002-05:00

I am a chronic loser.

I have lost paychecks. I have lost cds. I have lost the power cord to my laptop.

If I had all of the keys I have lost in my life, I could be that funny little guy from The Matrix.

I have lost my sense of direction, my dignity, even my marbles.

Recently, I lost the ability to process carbs into energy.

Today, I lost my wallet.

And I was crushed. I needed that wallet. I needed the cards of credit inside of that wallet. And, in a few minutes, I will find out if I needed the lottery ticket in that wallet.

I prayed that God would remind where I put it. I prayed that God would lead me to it. I even prayed that God would make it materialize in my pocket.

But it was no where to be found. Thus, I hung my head, and began to call and cancel my important financial plastics. As I waited for my actual credit card to be cancelled, I decided to check my e-mail. Scanning the subject lines, I was trying to decide if I wanted to read my father's latest humor e-mail or a reply from a friend, when something caught my eye. From facebook manager, a message from a man I did not know read, "I think I found your wallet, I can't find a phone #".

WHAT

My newest facebook friend (I should say he is now my facebook friend, he was not then) had found my wallet in the middle of the road while riding his motorcycle. He stopped, picked it up, and then FOUND ME ON FACEBOOK.

It was amazing. I love the book of face. I do believe that God answered my prayer, and that he did it using a ridiculously cool man and Facebook.

Who knew.

Amazing Grace

2008-10-06T23:04:00.002-05:00

Tonight I watched the movie Amazing Grace. If you have not seen it, I recommend you go and watch it immediately. I saw it first in theatres, and I wept at the end. Then I bought it and watched it by myself....and wept at the end. Tonight I watched it again....and wept at the end.

It is beautifully put together, mixing love, God, mission, and calling into a volatile and yet wonderful story.

For those who don't know, it is the story of William Wilberforce and his nearly solitary battle to end slavery in Great Britain. Not that he was alone in his fight. He had many who helped and encouraged him. But he knew that he had been given a gift from God, as well as a mission. And he stayed with that mission until it was completed. For nearly twenty years he had to fight. It literally nearly killed him. But in the end......slavery was finished in Great Britain. It boggles the mind.

The reason I am so passionate about this film is the greatness that is portrayed. Wilberforce fought for something that he knew was greater than mankind or kingdoms. He was quietly accused of sedition. He was thought a fanatic. He was shunned by those in power. And yet, because he knew that God had given him a torch to bear, he persevered. And in the end, he did get to see the end of slavery.

It is interesting to find out though, as I research him more, that his early work only abolished the slave trade. It was not until 1833 (just three days before Wilberforce died, according to Britannica.com) that slavery itself was outlawed. The man only saw the gratification of his dreams threes days before going to the Maker that gave him his task. I can only imagine the joy, the ecstasy, the humbling pleasure Wilberforce felt when hearing, "Well done my good and faithful servant."

The movie, and the man, make me yearn for God's direction in my own life. Would that God might find me worthy of a task of such volume. Could I do it? Could I persevere? Could I become so blind to anything else that my need for God's will to be done overcomes my fears and doubts, and I only leap on faith?

I hope so.

Anywho, there is much more I could write about the film, and the man, but I will leave you to watch it. And I encourage you to do so. Feel free to borrow my copy. I will even watch it with you.

Just don't make fun of me when I cry.

Well, Damn

2008-10-04T23:13:00.002-05:00

According to The American Diabetes Association, 23.6 million children and adults in the United States have diabetes. That is 7.8% of the population.

On Thursday, I officially joined their ranks.

At first, I was crushed. I had suspected it for a week or so, but to hear the doctor actually say that indeed, I was seriously ill, was tough to take. My family has been fantastic, as have the friends I have told.

But it has been a difficult adjustment in thinking.

It has knocked some of the immortality out of me. I have high blood sugar, but the past few days I have found myself feeling frail. I actually was afraid to bump into something earlier today because I felt like I would hurt myself. It is psychological, I know. But I have seen that I am damageable, and at times....not all day, not even everyday, but at times, it makes me afraid to live. It is ridiculous, and I quickly talk myself out of it.

I have had to immediately change the way I eat and drink. There was no final spaghetti dinner, then tomorrow I cut back. There was no one last bomber at O'Malley's, then I start drinking more water and sugar free. It was Thursday morning I could do it (even though I knew it was probably not the best), Thursday afternoon it was all over.

Good-bye Crazy Bread and Gumby's Pizza Rolls. Good-bye rum and coke. Good-bye Apple Pie with too much ice cream. Good bye Simply Pure orange and apple juice.

Now, in truth, I can have any of that....eventually. But for right now, I am on the wagon. I am counting carbs and watching fat and cholesterol. I am drinking diet root beer and passing on the Jimmy John's Gargantuan.

I have to stick a needle in my belly every night. It is a little freaky. It doesn't hurt, but it takes a certain amount of psychological strength to stab oneself in the stomach and force in fluid. The first night doing it I wanted to call a nurse and make him/her do it. Instead I manned up. But it is weird.

Oddly enough, it is harder for me that I have to prick my finger 4 times a day. The needle feels like medicine. The finger prick just feels like masochism. I hold the "lancer" and try to trick myself into doing it without noticing. Then I force myself to bleed. It is pretty much the worst game ever. But so far I am winning.

There were some "why me" moments. There is a strong desire to wake up tomorrow and discover I dreamed it all. There is a tiny inkling that ignorance was bliss, and why did I go get checked?

But then common sense and reality take back over. I am a diabetic. I must watch what I eat and drink, and I must get my body active. If I lose 125 pounds, I can get off the insulin. That is a motivator. If I eat right, watch my portions, exercise more than my mind and clicker finger, more or less live the way I should have been living the last few years, I can lead a fairly normal life. I may even be able to get off the oral medication.

So this is not a very cheery post, but the few readers I have know me, so I hope you know that I am not beaten or run down by this turn of events. As corny as it sounds, your support, even just through prayer, is hugely appreciated. I can climb this mountain, and indeed, will come over the crest a better man, but it is going to be tough.

Damn you Diabetes.....damn you.

Megan Fox

2008-10-02T12:06:00.001-05:00

Today, as I went down the magazine aisle at the grocery store, the GQ cover caught my eye. Why? Because there was Megan Fox, staring at me. She had her tongue out, and it looked like maybe just before the photographer shot the picture, she had been eating an asiago bagel with light cream cheese, and a crumb, mixed with the cream cheese, had stuck to her cheek, and she was trying to remove it.

SNAP!

And that's the cover.

This picture both intrigued and deterred me, and I suddenly realized that I am not a fan of Megan Fox. I do not mean personally, because I don't know her personally. Nor as an actress. I have only seen her in one movie, and I loved the movie, so we shall see. No, I mean as a hottie.

I know, the males reading this just decided that the reason I am still single is not because I am waiting for Jessica Biel to call. Hear me out....read me out.....

When I was in college, I had a friend whose mom made excellent, amazing, out of this world rice crispy treats. This friend would sometimes bring me some after she had visited her home. I always got really excited by them. I would take one from the plate, looking it over for imperfections, finding none. Just the right glaze, right size, right amount of rice crispies. I would bite into it, and savour the beautiful flavor.

Except, I would get two bites in and realize that I was not enjoying this masterpiece creation. I would let the other treats go to people who could enjoy the wonder of them. Because I do not like rice crispy treats. I like rice crispies well enough, but the marshmallow goo I just don't like. BUT, I would never remember this until after I had begun to eat them.

Megan Fox is, to me, like a rice crispy treat. At first look, she is hot. Smokin. I get caught up in that hotness. But then, as I really look at her, I realize that she is a great looking lass, but there is something there that I don't like. Again, not in her personality....I don't know her. No, it is just something in the whole look. I start off loving the hotness, but end with the conclusion that she is not my kind of hotness. Maybe it is the eye sparkle that seems unreal. Or the doll like features. I don't know.

So I am sorry Megan Fox, but I am jumping off the loving band wagon. It took me four years to turn down the rice crispy treats, only two to turn from you. I am making progress.

But Jessica Biel is still on the list. As is Rachael Taylor, the Australian girl from Transformers.

In case either of you want to call.

Hints of Fall

2008-09-04T23:16:00.003-05:00

The last two days we have had hints of the Fall in Manhappenin. The air has been cooler, once or twice even crisp. Breezes bring fresh wind, no longer heavy and burdened with heat and humidity. My air conditioning has been turned off, and the beautiful fresh air of the outside world has come creeping in.

Fall is always a time of resfreshment for my soul. Many people look to Spring for this, but not me. I love the Fall. Leaves change, revealing their true spirit, be it feisty red, loving yellow, or loving fire-orange. The air gets crisp, and breathing becomes a joyful, cleansing feeling.

It is in the Fall that I can stand outside at night, gazing at the stars. The first frost kills the bugs, so I am free to watch without mosquitos, spiders, and all other forms of creepy crawlies finding their way up my legs.....I hate chiggers.

I will no doubt expound on my love of Fall more in the near future, but September has been kind enough to bring with it a bit of the season, getting me ready for it.

Thanks September, you are neat.

Where To?

2008-08-28T22:31:00.002-05:00

I love to travel. I love for others to travel. I love to hear about other peoples' travels. When someone says, "I was recently in Rome.", my heart skips a beat and I want to know all that they did.

When I ask you how your trip was, what you saw, what you did, I am not asking for the brief, 2 minute description. No no, I am one of those rare people who really wants to know your story. If you start at day 1 with your luggage getting sent to Paris, Arkansas not Paris, France, then continue with how your life changed on day 5 because of the little old couple that outdanced you in Poland, and end at day 12 with the red-eye flight where you sat next to the man who invented the Pringles can, I am a happy man. If you also tell me about day 2,3,4,6,7,8,9,10....even if you think it was run of the mill, I am ECSTATIC.

Recently I have had some friends travel, and it has ignited the flame within me. So here are some places I want to go. Feel free to join me or list some of your own.

1) Alaska.....backpacking and fishing.....and Moose hunting.....with binoculars
2) Italy.......not just Rome........all over..........fantastic place
3) Brazil.......perhaps to woo a member of the Olympic Volleyball Team
4) Ireland and Scotland.......I have been there before.......but my heart wants me to go back
5) Turkey......to visit friends there.......and learn some history/culture
6) India.......more than Taj.........the people
7) Uganda or Kenya.....completely different places....so maybe both
8) Washington D.C...........I think Wade and Kelley are enough of a draw
9) Washington or Oregon.......hiking and fishing.........and recycling
10) Guatemala..again, been there....but sometimes the Land of Eternal Spring sounds nice

Well, those are the Top 10 of the moment. Where do you want go..........and will you take me with?

Rejuvenation

2008-08-17T22:41:00.004-05:00

First, I had to look up how to spell rejuvenation. It is a tough word. I read a lot of books, and yet I am the worst speller I know. Maybe I should buy a dictionary and just read that. But then I would know how to spell a plethora of words, and have no knowledge of how they are used in the real world. Quite the conundrum. Which I also had to look up...although I found out I spelled it right so......go me.

Anywho. Lately, I have been in need of rejuvenation. I left my home in Little Rock, moved back to my old college town, and started a new job all in three days. I also joined this job when it was in its busiest season. I also, as mentioned in the previous post, am less than talented at moving. Thus, while I have been in my new home for almost a month, I have done next to nothing in the area of making my house a home. Little decorating, bags everywhere, etc.

My usual ways of rejuv. are as follows.

- Read a book about someone greater than myself, to give me hope at the greatness of mankind.

- Go fishing.

- Volunteer to build something with my hands...like work on a Habitat for Humanity house.

- Have a beer with a good friend

- Go on a date with Jessica Biel.

Okay, the last one I have never done. But I am convinced it would rejuvenate me. All of the other "remedies" I tried in the last week....except the volunteer one, which I would have loved to do, but have not had the time.

However, I continued to be drained. I read a fantastic book by an man named Brother Andrew about his work in trying to support the church in the Gaza Strip. His passion for serving God (thank you Karlie for pointing out the misspelling there), his humility in doing God's will at all costs, his drive to never "retire" from serving the Lord, all give me such a rush. I love reading about this beautiful man who has given his life to one purpose: honoring and listening to his Lord.

I went fishing, and though I caught nothing, it was a fantastic day. My company was top notch, two great guys and my puppy. The pup swam for the first time in her life, which probably explains the lack of fish caught, but was worth it to watch her enjoy herself to such an extreme.

I sat down and had a beer with my good friend. He had just been through a very rough few days, and it was good to sit and laugh with him some.

And yet, I was drained.

And my parents were coming to visit today.

I love my parents, and I was excited to see them, but my house was wrecked, and all I wanted to do was curl up and sleep/hide. Instead, my brother came over this morning to use the interenet, and I arose to clean the house. He helped a bit, and I managed to get the kitchen cleaned, the laundry moved, the bathroom scrubbed, and my study somewhat arranged before the 'rents arrived.

And then we sat around and chatted. We went to see my brother's new apartment. My momma and I went to Wal-Mart to get my brother his first groceries and some other necessities (had to look that one up). I snuck a few things, like a banana hanger, in for myself. We drove around and saw the dam, and the lake.

And as I sat down on my couch after they left, I realized that I was finally feeling rejuvenated. I am tired, I still have a great deal to do, but I am rejuvenated from spending time with the crazy family that I love.

That is what family is for. Even when they are "taxing" you, they are giving life to you. Because, at least with my fam, they love you. And to be bathed in that love will outshine even a date with Jessica Biel....but only just barely.

Moving

2008-08-10T22:26:00.002-05:00

It isn't until one moves, I believe, that one discovers just how much "stuff" one has aquired. I recently moved back to my college town from Arkansas, and was shocked at how much I had accumulated in one year. I threw away half of what I owned, and yet filled a 12' by 6' trailer with my stuff...and STILL needed more room.

Granted, had I packed better, perhaps I would have felt less burdened.

And when I arrived, it took me three weeks to get my internet set up, and I still can't get the cable to work.

I suck at moving.

A Walk in the Woods

2008-07-24T21:53:00.002-05:00

When was the last time you took a walk in the woods?

I don't mean you cut a shortcut through the park. Nor am I referencing a jog through a wooded area because it is cooler in the shade.

I mean this:

You head out your door, leaving behind your cell phone, laptop, ipod, camera, and backpack. You take water. Always take water.

You go to "the woods". Which woods? Where are THE WOODS? Doesn't matter, except they need to be a good click away from the cars, the hustle, nay, even the bustle of your usual world.

You have no time you must be back. You know that you will probably be back for dinner, and at the very least in time for the TBS rerun of The Office, but you don't know if your walk is going to take you 45 minutes or 4.5 hours. And you don't care, because the point of a walk in the woods is not to get a certain amount of exercise. Get your 30 minutes of increased heart rate three times a week action somewhere else. This is about life with no time constraints.

You begin to walk in the woods. Your mind turns to the things you should be doing. Homework, bill paying, calling your mom, finishing your taxes, ending world hunger, starting a blog, eating at Chipotle, cleaning your house, watching your children, etc.

You run out of things to thing about, so you start to look around you. You realize that while you were thinking, you wandered deep into the woods. The light looks different here, filtered by the trees. The path is more rocky, less defined. Shadows are thrown about, creating false images. At first you are startled by the silence, until you realize the world you have entered is less than silent. You hear the birds discussing what their children should have for dinner. You hear the squirrels chattering about the whether this year's acorn harvest will be worth a damn. You hear unknown insects whine and zip as they create a symphony that perhaps only God can truly appreciate, because God can't get mosquito bites.

You listen harder, more attentively, and you hear the trees telling ancient stories, with great pauses and sighs, like old men sitting in a diner. You hear the grass and bushes talking rapidly, ignoring the trees, trying to tell their own stories. And if your lucky, you may even hear the babble of a stream.

You pause at the stream to listen for a while, cooling your feet, letting the tales the trees, bushes, grass, and stream all have to tell you fill your ears and your heart for a while. The stories are old, but they feed the soul, so listen carefully. Your ancestors knew how to listen to the stories the woods had to tell, and if you work at it, you can too.

As you sit by the stream, you notice that the light is putting on a play on the water's surface. It dances here, dances their, now leaping to this rock, now rolling down stream. It reminds you of when you were a kid, and you loved to jump and run from place to place, looking for the best adventure possible. The light winks at you, because that is exactly what it is doing, and now you and it have a common memory.

After a while, you begin your trek back home. Now you are keenly aware of the wooded world around you. The shadows follow you, protecting you, growing big and tough and then shrinking away after each corner is rounded, each hill is climbed.

Perhaps you will begin to understand how those who came before us could believe in fairies, nymphs, fauns, and elves. Perhaps a part of you will begin to believe in them again. With a phone in your ear, an ipod in your pocket, and shut away in a car, it is hard to believe that anything other than the obvious world exists. But here in the woods, in the deafening, busy "silence", you can believe in something a bit more.

And then you come to the edge of the woods. You turn back, part of you longing to return to the stream, to stay in the woods forever. But the "real world" awaits. Dinner must be made, homework done, house cleaned. You stand there, torn. A tree quietly whispers that it is okay, you will be back, the woods will wait. It always has, it always will. So you turn, and as you do, a shadow moves, or was it a fairy, waving goodbye.

You return to your world feeling a little older, a little wiser. You have spent time in creation older and wiser than yourself. And for that, you are all the better.

We can't do it (most of us anyway) everyday. But I know that there are days when I need it, and I suspect you do to. So I ask again....

When was the last time you took a walk in the woods?

Question

2008-07-16T22:08:00.000-05:00

If you were a pirate, what would your name be?

Wanted

2008-07-13T22:22:00.003-05:00

WARNING! SPOILER ALERT! IN MY DISCUSSION OF THE MOVIE WANTED I WILL BE GIVING AWAY DETAILS ABOUT THE PLOT, INCLUDING THE ENDING. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW, DON'T READ ON!

I recently went to see the movie Wanted. I will admit, a large draw was Angelina Jolie. And Morgan Freeman. For different reasons.

I must say, I truly enjoyed this film. It was exactly what I was looking for. It was not a deep, causes you to re-analyze your life cinematic event. Nor was it absolutely mindless dribble to fill a few hours.

The storyline has been told as long as people have been telling stories. A young man living a boring, droll life who discovers he has a greater destiny. King Arthur had a similar tale. Robert Louis Stevenson loved the thought of the ordinary being destined to greatness. Tolkien, Lewis, Twain, they all told this story. They just didn't have Angelina Jolie covered in tats.....but I digress.

There were two negatives with Wanted. The biggest was the pornographic violence. People didn't just get killed, their heads were blown off. The blood spatter was shown flying from behind heads when they were shot. Some may say that it is in the name of "realism", but I say that it is unnecessary. Shoot someone and they fall. A little blood. Stop the onslaught of gore to make the viewer cringe. We get it, they were shot and shot well. John Wayne did it too, but there were no brains on the wall when he left a place.

The second negative was the sharp Fight Club overtone. From the self narration to the cinematography, I felt as though Tyler Durden was going to come out and beat me up for looking at his wife.....did I mention Angelina Jolie was in the film?

However, those two issues aside, I felt that the film had an underlying understanding of honor and sacrifice. This was portrayed in a way that is often missing in films today.

The main character Wesley, discovers he has been duped, that he has been tricked into killing his own father. He discovers that the very man who trained him to be an assassin is a traitor. (If you haven't seen the film, it is based around a man who is trained to work for a group of assassins that kills people based on anonymous orders. The idea is that they are killing to set balance, not for personal gain.) And then Sloan reveals that in order for the Assassins to truly fulfill their destiny, to stay pure, they would all have to die, as all of their names have come up.

The stage is set. Do the Assassins kill each other, thus proving that they truly believe in what they are doing? They claim they kill those they are required, no questions. But to do that to themselves? This is where the movie could have wimped out. It could have killed off just the really corrupt guys. Or just the ones that decided to compromise. And, it would have been okay. If Angelina's bullet had killed everyone, but James McAvoy had shot it before it hit her, he could have thrown in a cheesy line about fate not always being right, and the movie would have been acceptable. What put it over the edge was that it understood that for a story to be truly great, self sacrifice is the key. Thus, Angelina takes her own bullet as well. Everyone who, in order to uphold the integrity of the organization, had to die, dies.

Sacrifice is difficult. It does not always make for happy endings. I wanted Angelina to live. I wanted her to somehow survive the slaughter. But for the story to be a great one, she could not. The writer of this story understood that, and thus ensured a great tale.

Plus there are rats that are used as bombs, Morgan Freeman as a bad guy, and Angelina Jolie covered in tats getting out of a tub. So it had that going for it too.

All in all, on a completely arbitrary scale of 0 (bad) to 7 (fantastico) haggis (that is correct, on I Dream of Scotland we measure movies in haggis) I would give it 5. 5 Haggis. Don't worry, 7 Haggis is not easy to come by.

I Be Clubbing

2008-07-13T01:17:00.000-05:00

Tonight I went clubbing. That's right, for those who know me, don't adjust your screens....I went to a club. In my defense, I went to see my neighbor's girlfriend do a comdy sketch. It did not go well. Think of your typical party club. Dancing, skanky, model thin girls, lots of strange drinks with names like "Running Around Naked On The Beach Last Winter When The Dolphins Swam By And One Got Beached....with a twist". Now insert a half a dozen theater geeks trying to do sketch comedy.

And now you know how my night went.

I observed many fascinating things, all of which I am too tired to write about. But I may soon write about one, all or none of the following observations:

-Girls at clubs are trying way to hard to be noticed while trying their best not to look like they want to be noticed.
-Guys at clubs have an extra level of testosterone that makes them both ridiculous and humorous at the same time
-Comedians all too often seem to substitute vulgarity and shock value for humor
-Girls with multiple tattoos are hot
-Guys with multiple tattoos are not
-Gay guys always get to grab girls in places that if I did it, I would be slapped
-Guys who get drunk and then get loud and obnoxious are not cool
-Tonight I finally heard the song 'I Kissed a Girl" in its entirety.....while watching two girls kiss....
-I hate clubs

Whelp, that is all I have energy for. Oh, and I should note that apparently my pup does not appreciate it when I am out this late. She gave me a very stern look when I came in.

The Wanderer

2008-07-09T20:05:00.000-05:00

The Wanderer, by Andrew Hay

I love to be on the move. Since leaving home for college, I have not had the same home for more than a year. I have been a resident of West Virginia, New York, Kansas, Scotland, and Arkansas. I am moving back to Kansas. For a year....maybe.

Today, I heard about a job in Taos, New Mexico that would be a blast. And Taos is beautiful. Seriously, check it out. You will want to move there. So I am not going to tell you about the job. Just in case.

I have also wanted to live in Colorado, Scotland, Africa, Guatemala, Montana, Wyoming, the Dakotas, even Oregon lately (thanks to Bainy).

I love adventure. I love meeting new people, adding new stories to my repertoire. I have a hunger to experience the world.

But lately, that hunger has been tamed by a little something called loneliness. While I yearn to work for an orphanage in Uganda, study religion in Scotland, archive for the American History Museum in D.C., or build Habitat houses across the country, I also yearn for a deeper connection with those I love.

A great friend told me last night that he wanted me to get back "home" where he is, so that he and I can start working ministry together as we did years ago. The thought was tantalizing.

Another great friend in the same evening mentioned that if I don't settle in somewhere I can never expect to get connected, relationally or vocationally.

And it got me to thinking about a thought I had as I watched the sun set over the William Wallace Monument in Stirling, Scotland. As I watched this beautiful moment in an amazing land, I thought about how I wanted to share the experience with those that I loved. I had friends in Scotland, people who I truly cared about, but no one my heart was tied to. I wanted that. I wanted to share my adventure.

I still do. I am returning to Kansas somewhat with my tail between my legs. My Arkansas adventure left me feeling depleted, alone, empty. I have not made the connections here I usually would. I left West Virginia with friends that I contact to this day. New York was the same story. Scotland, most definately. In Arkansas, I will leave behind some great people, but the connection to the area and culture has not been made. The fault is mine.

So perhaps I have reached a point where the Great Wanderer begins to feel his solidarity. Or perhaps I just need to return to my "homebase" and get recharged. I honestly don't know. I still want to go. Still want to keep seeing, experiencing, exploring. I still want to look back 40 years from now and be able to talk about the people I have met, loved, lived amongst. I know that I will still have the itch to move.

What does it mean when the wanderer becomes the lonely wanderer? What does it mean when I can't tie myself to a place, because I am always looking back? Do I want people to support my desire to move, or to tie me down and show me a more stable way of life?

I don't know. I do know one thing. God does know. This is not a cheap cop-out. This is not me saying I will just wait, and listen, and not move until I am sure. The opposite is true. I know that I will have to keep moving, and that the only way I will be happy is if in that movement I am seeking God's plan. God's move. If I am following His path, then I will make the connections neccesary to sustain my joy. Not that I won't be lonely, but that I will at least have a purpose within the loneliness. This may not sound awesome, but it is.

I love to wander. I love to stay on the move. I suspect I always will. At the moment I am a weary traveler, but I suspect soon enough the joy will come back to life on the move. I suspect.

Laundry Day

2008-07-07T20:13:00.000-05:00

Our meeting is doomed from the beginning.

I am wearing greasy shorts and a stained t-shirt. She's somehow managed to keep one change of clothing clean to wear during her sojourn to the mat. Did she actually do her hair? I should have at least worn a hat.

She is studying. Math. Not history, which I know. Not science, which I could mock my ineptitude towards. Math. Which I know so little about comment is futile.

Her clothes are in the dryer. Mine are still in the wash. Even in our common need, we are opposites.

Not even my pup can bring us together. She had a lab. It ate the drywall in her bathroom.

Thus I read my paper, disheveled, distant, waiting for time to pass.

She folds her clothes neatly and walks out of my life forever.

Damn you laundry day. Damn you.

This Great Nation

2008-07-04T21:22:00.000-05:00

Happy Fourth of July! I hope this post finds you well, and enjoying the celebrations of our great nation!

I love the Fourth. Not for the barbeque, the fireworks, the chance to see Uncle Sam on stilts, or even the all day patriotic country songs on the radio (my favorite is Johnny Cash's "Ragged Old Flag"). Well, okay, I love it for all of those reasons, but I also love it because it is a celebration of what I truly believe to be the greatest experiment in democracy.

On this day, I like to truly reflect on how amazing our country truly is. And as you are here, you can reflect too. I don't think this will be a long post, just a brief discussion of this unique land.

We are a country formed by rebels. Men and women came to this country to start over, to seek new fortune. Second sons who had no fortune or land came to try their luck in a rough country. Persecuted religious groups sought freedom from persecution. America was the land of opportunity, and those who came here, dating back to the Norse explorers, found a land brimming with opportunity.

Then came the moment for freedom. Men who had everything to lose came together to demand a country built on the rights of the people. It is easy today to dismiss them as men who wanted to exploit and get rich by making their own rules. It is easy from our safe distance in history to ignore the dangers that these men faced in declaring their independence. But please do not simply gloss over the fact that by signing and sending the Declaration of Independence, these men damned themselves. To say to the most powerful empire in the world, "We will be finished with you now" took guts, brains, and passion. To condemn their families to years of poverty and death just so that something dreamed up in a stuffy Pennsylvania courthouse could have a chance, ONLY A CHANCE, to come to fruition. To know that failure meant less privilege for the colonies and hanging for the instigators. To know all of this, and to fight on anyway. THAT is an amazing action. THAT is what America was founded on.

And we won. Then America took to the business of building a United States, a unique form of government. Ideas were taken from ancient philosophy, French and English idealists, and even Native American government, but the end result was a new beast.

I could type forever about the way the experiment has gone, what has worked and what has not. The cost, especially to the Native American population of America's success, but I want to end in a focus on what America has always stood for, and why, on this Independence Day I think we Americans need, more than ever, to focus on who we are.

We are a beacon for acceptance and freedom. That does not mean we each individually accept every person and idea that is ever thought. It means that as a nation we accept every different thought. Allow it to try to survive. And, let it die off if it is not good. People groups from all over the world have moved to America to start a better life. Many, upon arrival, found that individual people did not like them. "No Irish Need Apply", "No Jews Allowed", "White Only" are all notices seen in America in the past. And individuals still hate and fight against some of these groups. BUT as a nation, we have created a place where people can have a voice, even if no one likes them.

We have a nation where on can be a neo-nazi white supremacist and openly write or speak about his/her hate. I may despise every word that comes out, but that person can say it without fear of being arrested.

We have a nation where an immigrant trying to start a new life with his family can work, get his child an education, and better himself without fear of being hunted down by those in power. Whether you want the immigrant here or not, this is a nation that gives them rights and shelter, and I am damn proud of that.

We are even a nation where a person can say that they hate the government, hate democracy, hate the President, and wish that the Communists had taken over. And they won't be arrested. Today, all over the world there are countries where expressing even the slightest dissatisfaction with those in power will get you arrested or even killed.

This country has its problems. The experiment at times is running pretty rough. But it is still a grand land where freedom reigns. It is cool these days to bash on America. It is not cool to be an American abroad. It is not cool to be proud of this country. I am therefore not cool. Because I love this nation, I love its promise.

I think to maintain this nation's promise we all must be diligent, well educated and aware of our world. We must know what the rights we need to fight for our, and how we can, within the government set up around us, change what we don't like. I think America can be a beacon to the world again. And this Fourth of July, I just want to say, I will fight like Hell to see that I do my part, and pray to heaven that ya'll continue to do yours.

In closing, I would like to thank any and all service men and women for their part in defending and supporting our country. Your sacrifice and passions keep America safe, keep America running, and should never be dragged through political mud. Every nation must have its honored warriors who keep the people free to live (and blog). You do that for us. Our thanks, my gratitude can never be conveyed here in full, but please know that I am honored to live in a country protected and served by you.

Shiny and New

2008-07-01T22:07:00.000-05:00

I used to own a 1993 Dodge Dakota. It was maroon and tan. It had an extended bed. The interior was tan. And ripped. And flaking. The bed was chipped and dinged. The beack window did not lash. It had a stolen cd player in it...which I did not steal. The driver's side rearview mirrow was missing.....that was my fault. It had a Scooby-Do bobble head on the dashboard, a present from my brother. It was also missing the driver side window roll-down handle. Also a gift from my brother. Around Scooby was a horseshoe that no one would have thought was special but me, as it was obtained on a trip to a dear friend's grandfather's ranch. My high school graduation tassle, bleached nearly colorless by the sun also hung from noble Scooby's neck. The dashboard was cracked because my "stolen" cd player skipped often, and the best way to get it on track was to hit the dashboard above it. There was a hole in the ceiling material because in high school at Christmastime I would hang mistletoe in the truck in hopes that a girl would think it a cute enough gimmick and kiss me. It worked twice, and they were in the cheeck. The glove compartment was broken, and when I hit a bump, the door often fell heavily on my passengers' knees. My best friend "fixed" the lock with duct tape, which only worked enough of the time to lull my riders into a false sense of safety.

The bed had a black tar substance in it that no person could ever identify....or destroy. Being an extended bed, it was long enough to sleep in comfortably. I know this because I once took refuge in it when visting a friend at college whose dorm was kept at around 90 degrees. And I often napped in it when my brother took piano lessons.

In college, the truck became known as the community moving vehicle. Many a friend came along, needing something that could move his/her belongings. Some didn't even need me. Just the truck. There were days when I myself had no clue where the truck actually was, because someone had taken it to haul a fridge/couch/drum set/cooker. Sometimes it came back with an extra ding or two, or a new scratch, which was most often dutifully pointed out to me, followed by my statement, "Who could tell that one from the million others?".

My philosophy on trucks has always been that they are created to be used. If you are afraid to use them, buy an SUV. Thus the truck was lent to the world with no fear, because it was deemed indestructable. And indeed, for the five years that I drove it, mercilessly asking more of its V6 engine than any man should, it seemed so.

Alas, all loves are not meant forever. The truck finally met its end after a multi-state move pulling an overloaded U-Haul trailer. After a month of having to stop-start and curse it into action every morning, I had to give it up. I sold it to a friend for $300, and called began a search.

And perhaps here is where I made my mistake. I thought to myself, "It is time to grow up and get something real, something nice that people will like." And I did. I bought a 2003 Toyota Tundra. The exterior was spotless. The interior nearly so. It had okay mileage for a Toyota beast. The bed was shorter than I really wanted, but not too small. And the price was good. I fell for it, fell for the allure. Fell for the image of me in a new truck.

But I have discovered something about my nice, shiny object. It has, in many ways, come to change me. A few months ago, I actually stood outside of my truck and admired its beauty. I actually felt myself "bettered" by owning such a symbol of manliness and maturity. In a month, I am changing jobs, and my truck will truly become "recreational". I will no longer use it for work, and I began to envision it as a symbol for my new self. I wanted to get it a topper, Rhino-line the bed. Keep it waxed, shiny, and clean. Retire it from true use, and allow people to see it and love it. I even began hesitating to allow others to drive my truck. I did not want it hurt.

At the same time, I began to decide that it was time to change out my lifestyle. I needed to save up and buy a new TV, mine was too small and I had owned it for years. I needed a new camera, mine does not take pictures that are discernable by man anymore. I needed new clothes, new furniture, some flashy kitchen appliances, and a kickin' sound system. I needed art for my apartment, not just old family pics. My books needed nice shelving, so that they could be presented better. An overhaul was required....now that I was changing into a "growned-up".

Then, somebody backed into my truck. She didn't have insurance. She lied about that. My truck has a huge dent in the back. I was furious. I tried to tell myself that it was cool, it was only a truck, but it had grown to something more. I felt defeated that my thing of beauty had been wrecked. And even though it can be banged out and fixed, I felt that the truck was somehow damaged, destroyed beyond repair.

And then today, I was hauling some lumber to my job site. The lumber was too long for my truck bed, so I stuck it through the rear window and held it as I drove. Then I hit a bump....and cracked the windshield.

My once fantastic truck now has a busted windshield and a dented side. It is dirty and full of tools and building suppied. Some that I work with have started to tell me it is going to end up looking like the old truck. At first this bothered me....

....But then I got to thinking about the old truck. About my truck philosphy. About how freely I loved to hand over the keys to see the people I loved accomplish tasks required of them. I thought about how much more comfortable I was in the Dodge, knowing that, while it was a beat up old beast, it fit me.

And I realized that I had fallen prey to idolatry. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I had. The truck became something to be put on a pedastal, to be revered. Not a tool for life, but a trophy of who I had become.

And that, dear reader, is not me. So, I am getting the truck fixed. I will make it smooth and shiny. I will have the windshield replaced. I may even spring for the truck liner and cover some day.

But I will also give it out freely to be driven by those who need it. I will haul what needs to be hauled, scratches be damned. And when someone returns it to me with scratches, dents, and dings, I will not be discouraged. I will remember that this is what I have always wanted, and love that my big, bad beast of a Tundra can make the world a better place, even if it does come out looking a little worse for the wear.

*Disclaimer* I love my truck. I am blessed to own such a sweet ride. I am not complaining about the actual vehicle, simply the road I allowed it to take me down....

Katy Hudson....now Katy Perry

2008-06-28T12:20:00.000-05:00

*Information on Ms Hudson/Perry obtained from www.abcnews.go.com

In 2001 a young Katy Hudson hit the Christian music scene. She sang songs to God and had some popularity. Fast forward to modern day. Katy Hudson has re-invented herself as Katy Perry. Her newest single is "I Kissed a Girl". Needless to say, this is not a song about experimenting with Paul's direction to greet our fellows Christians with a kiss. She has gone mainstream pop, and her song's lyrics state:

No, I don't even know your name
It doesn't matter
You're my experimental game
Just human nature
It's not what good girls do
Not how they should behave
My head gets so confused
Hard to obey
I kissed a girl and I liked it

So, she is on a different path. There are many Christians who find this deplorable. They question how "Christian" she really was while singing her songs back in 2001. I want to know why they jumped straight to that. I want to know why that should affect my opinion of her.

I have not listened to much Christian music over the last several years. Like modern country, and of course, pop, it has become very cookie cutter to me. Christian music has a feel, an image it portrays. And sadly, especially a few years back, it seemed that to be a Christian artist, one had to be portayed as perfect. No blemishes, no sins, no problems, because those listening might see those flaws and follow suit.

So maybe Katy Hudson wanted to be more famous. Maybe she figured out that on the Christian music scene was not going to get her the fame she was seeking. But maybe, with all that, she felt a need to experiment, to search out and answer some questions about herself. And she knew that the Christian population who listened to her wouldcurse her for it.

Here is where I weigh in. I don't doubt her Christianity in 2001. Even if she was kissing girls back then. It is not my place to doubt her. I don't blame her for wanting fame, for wanting to be known. In this day and age, with all the ways we have of being "known" it seems it is what we are all searching for. Some of us start blogs. Others kiss girls and write songs about it. Instead of the Christian community analyzing her old intentions, let's pray for and seek ways to show her ours. I for one may not listen to her music....because pop makes my head hurt, but I will pray that God put people in her life who love her. She may not be living "right". She is most definately a sinner....we all are. So I will ask that God put someone in her life that shows her truly what His love is all about. Not what the Christian community as a whole wants her to be, but what He wants her to be. And if she decides that God wants her to be a pop star, then bless her, sing it on!

In a more broad view, I am tired of the "Christian Community" as a whole. I am tired of James Dobson saying that Barack Obama is misuing the Bible because he doesn't like Obama's actions and speeches. I am tired of hearing that some country or people group is suffering because they have angered God. I am tired of soldiers being asked by Christians if they hate Bush or that they are bad people for serving their country. I am tired of pastors using their pulpits as though they are television stages, screaming out whatever political or personal beliefs might get them on youtube. Rape has become a way of life in Darfur, our homeless are hungry and cold. Children in Africa, all over Africa are starving and/or dying of aids. Girls in America are selling their bodies on Craigslist because they, quote "I wanted to feel loved ... important."(http://www.cnn.com/2008/CRIME/06/27/child.prostitution/index.html) What are we the church doing about that? If they are searching for love online with older men, they are not feeling it from the church. Instead of mocking Hillary Clinton, or screaming presidential candidates names out, or announcing who they endorse, could our pastors please help to understand what God wants us to do for a world that is in real pain? Pray, yes, but act!

Anyway, this is my first real post, and it is as scattered as my mind.

An Experiment in Narcissism

2008-06-11T21:07:00.000-05:00

I have avoided the blogger's world for sometime. Thought I should keep my thoughts to myself. I still believe this is a sound policy. Hopefully, I will reserve this for my thoughts on books, movies, and ridiculous rants. Politics, religion, deep thoughts, may creep in here and there, but I will try to save these thoughts for the people I know in the real world. My hubris here lies in the assumption that someone "out there" will read what I write. This is the age of personal pride. I shall proceed under the belief that someone out there cares what I have to say....