Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Charlie and I are having a baby!
The due date is June 15. That's about 6 weeks after I graduate.
We have the ultrasound pic, but the download thing's being a jerk. I'll email it later. According to the doctors, everything seems to be going well.
Please keep the three of us in your prayers.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
We live on the second floor of an apartment building. We have a small porch on the back side of the apartment which overlooks a lovely forest area. It is a lovely little thing and we have made use of it with flowers, herbs and other assorted greenery. Also there two birdfeeders hanging down which are kept full and can generally be seen with various birds enjoying a free meal.
It has also become a favorite spot for our cat, Thumbelina. Generally her and the birds get along as the birds immediately flee when the door is open, and the cat doesn’t spend her entire day outside as to allow some good bird feeding. Once or twice the two have met and Thumbelina has landed herself some prey. This is something that the wife abhors, but I understand being the nature of the beasts and all.
Today, being a fine, beautiful October day, I opened the back door and allowed the cat to enjoy the sun as well. She loves it when the door is kept open as that allows her the freedom of to-and-fro. I enjoy it as well for it allows me to not have to continually open and close the door for a finicky cat.
Moments ago I found the cat inside chasing what I thought was one of her many play things under the couch. It wasn’t long, however, when I realized that this play thing, might not be a toy after all. For one thing, the cat was completely engrossed in getting this thing out from under the couch – normally when her toys become unreachable she simply gets bored and moved on. For another I heard a chirping noise, and none of her toys chirp. As you might have surmised, it was a bird.
I quickly tore the cat away from the couch and shuffled her into the bedroom, door closed. I then carefully began moving the cushions away from the couch and then pushed it away from the wall. Finding no bird, I wondered if I wasn’t a bit mad, but continued turning the ouch over.
Sure enough, a little bird flew out and banged its head against the window. Poor thing desperately wanted to escape, but wasn’t clever enough to recognize a piece of glass (and believe me this isn’t a crystal clean window like in the commercials.)
I opened the doors as to give it an escape route and donned a pair of gloves as to not get scratched or bitten. I then tried to grab the bird to throw it outside.
Whoosh it went, grazing my hair and banging into the far wall where it quickly slid down into the relative safety behind the book shelf. Removing many books I finally made my way to an opening where I could reach at the bird. Unfortunately, the cranny was too small and all I could do was move my fingers menacingly at it in hopes it would change position.
It did and flew to another bookcase, thins time landing in front. It was obviously frightened and pushed itself frantically at the books hoping to find another haven.
Finally I was able to grab it and let it loose outside. It moved like it was hurt in some way, but it was definitely able to fly and so I figured it has a decent chance of surviving on its own. The cat was then unleashed and has spent the rest of today desperately looking for it’s capture.
Saturday, October 28, 2006
This is from Mullins, not Brewster. Mullins can't seem to post, so all complaints should go to him. I'm just the messenger.
In six years of work at Scripps I’ve had the opportunity to see a lot of different “characters” muddle in obscurity and some of them shoot to the top of stardom. Though I’m not directly responsible for, or hardly connected to the 96% of those folks across HGTV, Food, DIY, Fine Living and GAC I still feel a bit connected to the process because without the little building I work in those people would not reach the rest of the world.
When I was working on The Best Of I first heard the name of what I then considered to be a sexy and fun little kitten named Rachel Ray. As things in life tend to do “we” (Rachel and I) have come to see things differently.
During a corporate meeting months before her first show hit the air I was introduced, via a 15ft television screen, to this vivacious, oddly sculpted and bubbly personality. What first attracted me to Ms. Ray at first is the same thing that has pulled in millions of viewers across the country many times during the week. That Polly Anna attitude, with nothing-much-to-see low cut blouses, and enrapturing giggle which slides through a perfectly supple mouth.
However, like old, slightly fractured eggs, week old warm milk, uncovered sun baked steak, something has spoiled. It’s been a slow process for me. One show was hardly enough, two was almost perfect. Two shows stripped out over the week was as awkward as the so-so girlfriend’s toiletries invading your space deodorant: fine, toothpaste & brush: fine, that poofy scrubby thing in the shower: too damn much! Three shows, the commitment is getting a bit claustrophobic, perhaps we need to see other people, is Wings on somewhere, please.
Then it happened… Each show on their prime-time slots began getting high numbers; the popularity wasn’t waning, in fact like a baker’s yeast it started to grow. Infectious giggles would wake me from my sleep, I realized that her ever so “Rubenesk” figure began to disappear, her nothing-much-to-see and Psalm inspired “declatee” was becoming something of the past. I had heard rumors about extended syndication and franchise opportunities, books, broadband, major sponsorship, product development and then perhaps one of the most male gut wrenching words ever “Oprah”.
The hippo of media conglomeration had taken a fancy for Rachel, not only had she taken a fancy but she saw potential. Having shat out and allowed to suckle the teat of success, Dr. Phil, her first prodigy was a dancing on the edge of super celebrity. Little did the world know my precious Rachel Ray was about to strap on the feed bag in Oprah’s troth and tap the ebony mammaries of an over saturated, super hyped, media monstrosity.
Last week as I pulled my wife’s first subscription issue of Everyday with Rachel Ray from the mailbox I felt a painfully electric twinge shoot through my body. Today, this very day, it hit me. After watching two and a half hours of Rachel Ray broadband clips, I hate Rachel Ray.
I can’t smell any sort of Cajun spice without hearing her tell me again and again in a dozen different ways that’s where her daddy is from. I like the way I prepare noodles and I don’t want her to tell me how it’s really done in Italy. Saying the word “arugula” doesn’t make me breakout into giggling fits, I don’t care what your favorite type of mushroom is and I sure as the world don’t want to have to hear it from your four hour block of programming on Food Network, every other pop up ad on-line and in the magazines that now seems to follow me from room to room in my own house. Unless you’re going to start playing Demi Moore’s part in the movie Ghost and get dirty with me at the spinning wheel quit shadowing me like an overly possessive, whiney, not nearly dead enough, Patrick Swayze.
I’m sorry Rachel, we had something special. It was beautiful and I will admit that I learned some kinky moves from you in the kitchen but I’ve had enough of you. If I smell something sweet in the air that I don’t recognize, I start to wonder if you’re stalking me in real life. If anyone giggles after slurping soup I begin to dry heave and convulse.
We’re finished, over, done, yes! We’re overdone, take me out because I have a feeling you’re going to consume me at the table of greasy, and grisly media super over saturation with a side of mid-western husk smoked corn on the cob, skin included because-who-has-the-time-to-peal-potatoes-these-days infused with garlic, and parmasion. Obviously the whole thing will be finished off with a light raspberry puree over a golden crepe filled with sugary sweet and walnut cream cheese. I’m sure you can fit me in before your first show at 2:30, maybe 6:00 or 6:30? If that doesn’t work perhaps I could be devoured around 9:00 or 9:30? Maybe after a busy day of media whoring a late night snack around 11:30 or midnight, just get it over with you over publicized giddy harpy, I’ll give you $40 for thirty minutes you ya saucy little tart.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
As a middle-aged couple with no children it often becomes difficult for me and my wife to take part in the childish things we love. My wife and I have a collection of children’s books – from Dr. Seuss to Roal Dahl – but no one to read them to. We have children’s films – from Bugs Bunny to Toy Story – but no one to watch them with. We fly kites every May and carve pumpkins every October.
For Halloween we throw a big adult party to disguise our love for such a children’s game.
We’ve made it a big annual affair filled with food, music, big prizes and lots of gooey pumpkin mess.
Each year the affair has gotten bigger and bigger. Originally, it consisted of a few friends and some snacks and has now ballooned to a house full of guests, a democratic voting on best pumpkin complete with generous prizes, and more food than anyone could possibly eat.
This year my wife went all out in the food department. We had sautéed chicken with a peanut sauce, home-made spinach artichoke dip, an enormous cheese plate with a variety of French and Italian breads upon which to place them. There were strawberries with a chocolate fondue, and some kind of fancy cheese bread with bit of prosciutto melted into it. To top it off we served pumpkin-spiced cheesecake with apple cider for dessert.
It was delicious.
This was the first year I have used an MP3 mix tape for the proceedings. Normally, I spend many hours sorting through my music collections making a handful of carefully selected CDs to spin during the party.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
As our culture changes and the connotations evolve between generations, certain words cannot be said without some level of odd recognition. The other day, my father-in-law was over and Luke drew out a little book from the copious stacks filling his book cabinet. The book was titled The Owl and the Pussycat and goes like this:
The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,'
O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
What a beautiful Pussy you are!'
My father-in-law read it, all the time grimacing with the rest of us and trying to contain his amusement at the somewhat antiquated adjective devices and (im)Proper nouns used.
In other words, it was an odd and funny moment.
I think if I ever have to read it to a class of toddlers, I'll change "Pussy" to "Kitty".
Monday, October 23, 2006
Google Video now has the entire 1922 classic film Nosferatu for your viewing pleasure. I was just a kid when I first saw that movie, or rather the last twenty minutes of that movie and it scared the bejesus out of my pancreas.
Even then I could tell it was more than just a horror movie made to scare, but rather ART designed with a higher purpose. For years the image of the vampire standing in front of the bed as the sun rises crept into my dreams and haunted my nightmares.
When I actually did watch the entire film I have to admit it seemed to drag a bit and I can never get used to that score, but it remains one of the most haunting scary movies I’ve ever seen.
If you have never seen the film do yourself a favor and catch it now. And once you are done catch the other full length films available on Google like Plan 9 From Outerspace, Night of the Living Dead and Reefer Madness.
Friday, October 20, 2006
My first week as an English professor was fun, enlightening, and tiring. It looks like I'll have six students altogether. They're all adult students and they're all trying to better themselves, so I have received good reactions to assignments, class participation, etc.
The fun part, though, is the teaching! Tuesday night, I introduced the course and did a little writing exercise with the students. I asked each of them to write a sentence that described their favorite food. Afterward, I took up the sentences and we all had fun suggesting ways to make the sentences better. Then, I gave them a writing assignment and sent them home. The assignment was based on a Langston Hughes essay titled Salvation. It was about him going tot a revival meeting with his aunt when he was 12 years old. It was something of a rite of passage. So, I told my students to read the essay then write a 5-7 sentence paragraph about a change that had occurred in their lives for good or bad.
I got the responses back last night. I skimmed them briefly. One was from a young man whose mother had made him a ward of the state of Hawaii. Another was from a woman who had been through an awful divorce. They were stories they needed to tell.
Last night, I started the class by reading a narrative essay titled Brothers. It was about a man and his brother, how they grew up, grew together, apart, away, etc. We looked for changes that happened as the story progressed then talked about how to make transitions in our own writing. It was tough getting them to see the transitions and changes, but we all learned something.
The last half of class, we looked at writing as a process: prewriting, drafting, revision, editing/proofreading, and publication.
I taught and watched as they finally understood that writing was more thatn putting words to paper. It was cool.
Then, I gave them an assignment to write 3 paragraphs based on a reading about a woman finding her Cherokee heritage.
I told them to write the introduction about their family (member(s) or whole). The body was to be written as an explanation of how their family introduced their heritage. The conclusion is for them,so they can talk about how they plan to carry on that heritage.
I wonder what they young man who was given to Hawaii will write about. I wonder if they know their heritage. Perhaps they'll discover it if they don't. Watching grown people grow is miraculous.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
I always figured I’d be the sort of person who had books stuffed in every corner, piled up on the carpet and lined against the wall, I just never figured it would be by the time I turned thirty.
Though living in a modest-sized two bedroom apartment, every square inch of wall space that is not taken by furniture is stuffed with shelves full of CDs, DVDs, and books. By far the books outnumber everything else and are spilling out like an overfilled cup onto the floor of every room in the house. This has been doubly fulfilled over the weekend having gone to the local Red Cross book drive multiple times.
In an annual event the Red Cross holds a book drive at the county fairgrounds. They sell the books in an interesting manner which compels me and my wife to go back and back and back… On Friday they charge a $5.00 entrance fee, but most people pay it due to having first crack at the choice books. All books sell cheaply – hardback for two dollars, paperbacks for a buck – and the best ones go quickly. On Saturday they take away the entrance fee, but sell the books for the same price. The first half of Sunday sees the books going for half price, and by mid-afternoon all books are $5.00 a bag! If there is anything left on Monday, you can take home what you want for the price of the gasoline it takes to get you there.
My wife and I always forgo the Friday pay-to-get-in night and thus headed in early Saturday morning. Arriving five minutes after they opened there was still a long line outside the entrance, waiting to get in. It seems they created some sort of barricade-like thing to harangue folks in, cattle-like, in order to get an adequate headcount.
No mind, the line moved quickly and inside this warehouse of books I went. They divided the books into appropriate subject matter – biographies, literature, crafts, paperback romances and such like, but that’s as organized as it got. Nothing by name or title, so I had to literally sift through the chaff. It was a grand experience though moving sideways alongside the maddening throngs looking for the hidden gems.
I hit up the classics section hoping to fill in my missing pieces of literature. I found a slew of great stuff – War and Peace, Anna Karenina, Ulysses, some Edith Wharton and a whole slew of Charles Dickens. They’ve had a great set of old-looking hardbacks of what seemed to be the entire Dickens catalog. Even at the great price of two bucks a pop, my checkbook wouldn’t allow that package. I held out hope that I’d see it later that weekend when the prices go down.
Moving to the other sections I picked up another large handful of books from the not-so-classics, but fun-to-read category. Like the Pavlov’s dogs of old, I was in full-on salivation mode just looking at all those books.
Being that all the books have been donated to the Red Cross for this sale, they are all old, used worn books which makes it even better in my opinion. Walking into a Barnes and Nobles these days feels sterile to me, like walking into a hospital reception room. It’s antiseptic no matter how cozy they try to make it with their coffee pots and big leather chairs. Not so there. Books lined every corner, people tore into them releasing years-old dust and the smells of a thousand shelves where they have sat for who knows how long. It was a glorious, wonderful thing.
The wife and I piled into line with our arms loaded, $28 in total and more books than I’ll be able to read all year. A rough estimate of what these books would total at a regular store ranges into the hundreds.
There is nothing like a book fair.
Later that afternoon, we decided to go back. My wife had to work on Sunday and wasn’t able to make it for the five bucks a bag deal. Not being satisfied with the morning’s collection, we headed back for more.
We decided on a $10 limit, making it five books a piece. Normally at this thing I go in, grab what I can get and think about the budget later. Setting a limit made it difficult as I had to contemplate each book's pros and cons before I put it in my bag.
That night, our kitchen table filled to the brim, we slept the sleep of kings.
Wife working, I headed back on Sunday with my friend Daniel. Big paper sacks were handed out at the entrance and the whole place was like one giant candy store with hordes of hungry kids running amuck. At five dollars a bag there wasn’t time to contemplate if I really wanted the book. I filled my bag and hoped for the best.
I once again hit the classics, stared at the hardback Dickens and decided it would fill my bag too soon, crossed my fingers that it would last until free day and carried on.
Suddenly Grisham, Koontz, and Sue Grafton’s alphabet series took on a glimmer of enticement. I’m not normally one for the current bestsellers list of easy fiction, but priced so cheap, I couldn’t help myself.
Two sacks later, at ten dollars total I walked out a happy little boy.
Monday, going solo, for the wife had to work yet again, I headed out for one last time. It was madness. All books were free, and the throngs were like a thousand chickens with a thousand missing heads. I pushed my way in and came out with a box filled with books I’ll probably never look at again. Alas, the Dickens collection was gone. Oh well, I've more than enough to line the shelves and keep my reading mind occupied for months to come.
All told we came home with some sixty books and spent less than $50. I have since landed most of them on shelves, though many still lie on the table, the tops of shelves, and on the floor...
I like it this way though. For a home without books just isn’t a home. If I wanted to live in a place that was neat and tidy with knick knacks on the shelves instead of books, I’d live in a hotel. No, I like it just fine - just be patient with me as I spend the next hour deciding on a book to read.
Last night in Wednesday night class, we studied a passage in 1 Samuel 23 that really got me thinking about you guys. I am ashamed I haven't been like this and I want to do better. The passage (v16) reads:
Jonathan, Saul's son, arose, and went to David into the woods, and strengthened his hand in God.
If you know anything about David and Jonathan, you realize that they were friends of a kind that is rarely found in the world. They loved each other so much that they would risk death, loss of a kngdom, and family for each other. In this passage, for instance, Jonathan leaves his father, Saul, who has pursued David to the death. He goes to his own father's enemy to strengthen him.
I want to strengthen you guys. Sometimes, like in recent posts, I become frustrated because I see things I feel might be a threat to our spiritual well-being. Why I latch onto one thing and not another and when I do, I don't know. But, I do. And I usually become so impassioned about whatever it is that I just wind up sounding like a jerky know-it-all.
But, I do it in an attempt to strengthen the hand of you men of God. Unfortunately, I miss the mark more often than not. But, I'm trying to be better. I hope we can all be like David and Jonathan and strengthen each other in God. I love your souls. Just know that I'll never stop trying and I'll try to be more understanding, open-minded, and humble, my dear brothers.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
In the name of artistic expression I would like to take a small moment to recognize one of the greatest artists in world history, Michelangelo and one of his greatest sculptures: David.
By the way, Mike, yeah, we’re on a first name basis, also did scores of religious painting in the effort of glorifying his Lord, in fact this piece is King David as he decided to battle Goliath. Then again there is some debate over this David is from Biblical lore or simply the name of the model the figure was sculpted from. One of the most interesting things, referenced from Wikipedia because my art history and terminology is too rusty is that the sculpture is done in a style to mimic the divine creation called “disegno”.
Also covering the ability to create such life like renderings of Gods final creations, Michelangelo also did a little known work called Pieta and a slightly better known collection of works in a building called the Sistine Chapel.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
If you hate speculation, don't read this. There aren't any spoilers, just some ideas I've been kicking around.
I've been speaking with a fellow here at work about Harry Potter lately. He's really into it and tends to get a little upset at the notion that good ole J.K. might off her wizardly hero in her seventh and final installment of the great HP line.
He strode by yesterday and engaged me in conversation, as he is wont to do, about the idea that there's no way Rowling could kill the boy wizard off since she'd be forever hated and her fan base would feel betrayed.
My response didn't comfort him much. In fact, I think it upset him a little.
J.K. Rowling is following a line of thinking and writing akin to that of such great Fantasy writers as Lewis and Tolkein. If you have ever read The Chronicles of Narnia or The Lord of the Rings, you know that at their respective ends, the main characters all essentially die and go to Heaven.
Of course, in those series, the only satisfying end to the books is for these characters to not reap the "expected" reward for their travails, but instead be rewarded in ways both unexpected and far exceeding the rewards the reader surmises.
How then shall Rowling create a satisfying ending to her voluminous tome? Harry has already lost many people he loves. His parents were killed when he was a toddler. His only remaining family either disdains him or has been recently killed-off. Even his respected mentors have either died or abandoned him.
So, I ask again, how can Harry be happy except to go where his loved ones now reside in a blaze of victory that will rid the world of wizards of the evil Voldemort forever?
I don't think she can present a satisfying end without the ultimate sacrifice, my friends. This is, of course, only my speculation. But, it follows a tried and true method. Either Harry's happiness must come to him or he must go to it.
Monday, October 16, 2006
This is ripped from the Jamison thread. I completely support the military as a peace keeping force; I’m using this as an example.
The laws of this country allow me to join the military and kill who ever they tell me I can without any sort of legal repercussions. Who ever I’m told to kill is a “bad guy” against my country and therefore worthy of execution. As a Christian should I support this idea of legalized murder just because my country tells me it’s ok to kill someone? By supporting this am I exempt from Gods rules when I break Gods law? I used “murder” on purpose via those pesky Ten Commandments. If this world is not my home how is some whack-o in the Middle East really affecting me and my walk?
Many a Christian is pro death penalty because they fall back on the eye for an eye tooth for a tooth argument. Still, many Christians believe that the ideas in the OT were “done away with” under the new covenant offered through JC. Please explain how people can pick and choose which parts of the Bible they want to believe and justify it based on supporting the law of the land? Following the OT example of a death penalty can we also use their example of using music for worship? Wasn’t JC the “turn the other cheek guy”?
For seat belts, it’s really a silly law. The belts are wonderful and I’m glad the manufacturers make quality devices designed to save lives. I used safety belts before it was a law and will continue to buckle in my family no matter what. If I don’t want to wear it, then I should be allowed to be stupid on my own.
I have my own issues I know but this country, and most of the rest too, have some really backwards laws. You can get an abortion at 16 without parental consent but at the same age can’t go on a school field trip without a permission slip. If a person is breaking into your home to rape, murder and rob your family and you shoot him as he’s on the way out of your house and don’t kill him, you can be arrested for attempted murder. I can buy a dozen rifles and boxes of ammunition in a moment but I have to wait a week to buy a less powerful weapon because it’s smaller.
Big laws that make a difference are fine but deciding what is clearly what in one person’s best interests against another persons is ridicules.
I know a civilized world needs laws and I’m glad most are in place I just think it’s a bit iffy if you’re basing your salvation on a flawed system of contradictory rules designed by people who are ensuring their best interests first.
Tomorrow night at 8 PM, I'll start teaching my first college class. The class is EH0302 or Fundamentals of Reading and Writing or Remedial English.
Yes, I'm teaching the folks who couldn't pass that exam we all took when we started college that told the academic overlords whether or not we should go straight to 101. The thing is, these people (at least most of them) are not traditional students. They're in the adult program. So, I'll be teaching people who have been using incorrect grammar, punctuation, spelling, and sentence structure for 20 years plus.
But, I'm looking forward to the challenge. I hope that something I teach them will make the difference in how they progress through the remainder of their studies. Maybe the single Mom with two kids will get that job she needs because she was articulate and knowledgeable in her interview. Perhaps the man who will be the first person in his family to hold a degree will learn how to read and comprehend more effectively so that he can create a heritage of words for succeeding generations.
I know these are big ideas, but I take this seriously. Hopefully, they will too.
Friday, October 13, 2006
I know. I should've posted this yesterday, but y'all wish Rachel a belated 27th b-day!
We went to Red Lobster for endless shrimp, then went to her parents' place for some nummy ice cream cake her Mom made. My parents were there, too, so it was very special and nice.
I got her a king-sized, memory foam matress topper and some nice, high-thread count sheets which we've both been enjoying. Luke got her a vase and some flowers and made her a card that had a pumpkin on the front and said, "I love you Mama. Here's a pumpkin!"
Twas a good and fun day. So, HBD, Rachel, my love!
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
I also want to say that as friends, I think we should be able to pose questions like this to each other. These are questions I have kept bottled up ever since I was in high school for fear of being laughed at, thought to be a fire-breathing lib, or just looking stupid... Chuck mentioned one smoke night that we, as friends, should be able to pose the "stupidest" questions to each other without fears... and here, I shall...
1) I don't claim to be able to heal people nor do I believe the Benny Hinns of the world, but which verse in the Bible was it that says "All this cool healing and stuff will stop on page 1, 156... After that revelation book."? I really and truly just don't see any hard evidence that claims it'll all stop at some specific point. Maybe I have been stuck in Psalms too long, been reading it for over a month now...
2) Speaking of Psalms and the old testament, the books are freaking full of music. Why are we so bent out of shape about music? God at least dug it at one time, maybe His tastes changed...? I mean, I can assume the 1st century church didnt use music simply to stay alive. They were probably pretty poor so they didnt have a sitar lying around or a horn handy, plus most were worshiping in secret so the loud noise wouldn't do much for a Sunday service unless it was about being a martyr... I am not saying people today who have the big band on Sunday are cool with God, He is probably a bit miffed that alot of people go to be entertained, but that is a problem with THEIR heart I would imagine... I know alot happened when Jesus died on the cross, but was there a huge instrument burning ceremony in the streets by all the new converts when he died that perhaps the writer of the Bible didn't catch?
3) God sure talked to alot of people, old and new testament... I hear this alot "We have the Bible now, so God speaks to us through it." Yeah, but it is like saying "God said it all already, He is too tired to say it again, check your concordance." or it is like saying "God can't do that anymore..." He CAN'T??? Again, point to the BCV that says he has taken a vacation from talking to people... I will admit, there are probably few if any people in this world worthy of such, but still... Hey, I think the Bible rocks, I do, but it is funny that if we want God to talk to us, we have to spend $19.95 plus tax at Books-A-Million first...
4) Alot of verses catch my eye when I see the word "god" or "gods"... and I am not refering to those talking about idols... Psalms 95:3... "For the Lord is a great God, the great king above all gods..." so... there are other gods? If so, are they cool? I mean, not to worship, but can we at least like them?
...Probably several more that have floated in my head over the decades, but I cant think of them now... I hear printers churning this blog out, ready to be sent to elders around the country, suggesting that I be banned from serving on the Lords table on Sunday mornings...
They make a couple of good points similar to Jamisons on avoiding nasty predators, but then veer off into insanity - blogging is evil because it is filled with idle chatter, um what?
There is also some nut-job stuff on different Christian eras that will either make you cry or laugh out loud.
Go ahead, read it. I dare ya.
Monday, October 09, 2006
I was afforded a very special honor Sunday in the form of an invitation to speak at Homecoming at Luverne church of Christ. When one of the elders there, called me a few weeks back to ask if I would speak, I was shocked. I couldn't say no.
LcoC was the first congregation I ever attended. I went there with my family from the time I was born until I was about five years old. Then Dad went to work with another congregation. But, I have always considered Luverne home. I remember going to fellowships, get-togethers, game nights, and so many other church functions with the people there. I remember children being born and old folks passing away. It was my first, Christian family.
I was asked to deliver three lessons. The first was for class and the others were for the two worship periods. I used Colossians 3 for the class. The other two lessons were taken from an article I recently wrote for a Christian publication. They were mostly taken from I Corinthians 13 and were titled "Love As A Lifestyle".
Everything went well, but after all the teaching, preaching, singing, eating, and preaching again, I was exhausted. I'm still recovering today, but I'm happy that I got to go home in one of the best ways possible and I can't wait to go home for good one day.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Still, every morning I pull in and wave a little to the guys at the gates, because they are kept open between 8:30 and 9:00am. Without fail there is one little pudgy guard who always watches me as I walk into the building. None of the other cops watch anyone or do much of anything else aside from wave or raise a cup of coffee or smoke to their mouth as people enter. I made it a point today to watch him with my peripheral and the guy followed me until I couldn’t see him anymore. I think I’ve seen him to this to others and it just bugs me. Why is the white Caddie with two Grateful Dead stickers the one to watch, I’d be a bit more concerned with the Scion flying a Black Beard flag from the antenna or maybe the guy with the Star Wars “My boss is a Galactic Overlord” sticker on his truck. I have music stickers on my car, I’m not flying and showing off a desire for pirating, anarchy or interstellar domination, leave me alone.
I think the guy watches me because I drive a piece of crap and someone has complained that I’m bringing the rest of the parking lot down. It’s some sort of subtle intimidation I’m convinced. Maybe it’s because I sometimes park right next to the cop cars and the collection of children’s books in the back seat bothers them because they are at their reading level and they’ve not “read that one”.
I think I should go to HR and tell them the security guards are making me uneasy, wearing street clothes with badges and guns just freaks me out so much that I can’t focus on my work, oh the pressure! Again it’s really just the one guy who I imagine feels like Chubby Harry and continues to wish someone would “make his day”. Have a donut, sit down, shut up and worry about bad guys, not people who are miserably going to work without the assistance of a firearm.
I found out yesterday that one of the three contracts within my company went belly-up. Fortunately, it wasn't the one I work on.
However, it was the one Larissa works on. But, she should be alright in the shake-up. She is WAY too knowledgable for them to let go. But, many others aren't going to be so lucky.
As a result, I've been looking around and putting out my feelers on other employment opportunities. I was sort of offered a positiong with the State of Alabama not long ago, so I'm looking into that and checking other options as well. I just don't want to get caught in some weird domino effect. You never know what might happen.
It's the world of contracting and the ball bounces...