The Stubbs pay a visit

Our good friends the Stubbs paid a visit to central Alabama this long weekend. It was wonderful to see them and spend time with them. My only regret was that we were not able to spend MORE time with them. With the Sips having two boys, the Stubbs having a new boy, and us having a new boy, schedualing and visit times were limited. Plus, my in laws were in town staying at our home.

Even so, we were able to have dinner with them Friday night, cook out with them at the Sips Saturday night, and go to church and lunch with them Sunday.

Here are some videos made during the visit. The first video has a few greetings to our friends the Brews over in China...

Everything Old Is New Again

I think all of you have been to our house at sometime or other. Recently, we added some space onto our kitchen and knocked out some walls to make a nice, open layout between the family room and the kitchen. Here are some pics to show how the progress went, how much work was done, and how much space was added. My Dad was instrumental in most of the work. However, Rachel did quite a bit of the work, too, especially with installing the floors. We did this ALL ourselves, in other words.

Love Note: A Rock

On our trip (mentioned in my last post) we picked up a couple of souvenirs for family members. One of the gifts we bought was a small bag of colorful rocks from the Native America store in downtown Athens. Luke, as most three-year-olds do, loves rocks, so we thought he’d love them. We were not disappointed.

When we brought them home to him, he immediately pulled out his treasure box and began placing them into it. Then he started picking out his favorite rocks and pretending they were different food items. One looked like a plate and one was red like spaghetti sauce. One of his favorites was a beautiful chartreuse color and was shaped like a glass. He held it and played with it and pretended to drink from it.Yesterday at work, I was sitting at my desk, eagerly anticipating time to leave and go to the zoo with my family when I felt something poking me in my left butt cheek. I reached in my back pocket and pulled out the rock Luke had placed in there, unbeknownst to me. I immediately began to laugh/cry with joy at the beautiful little way my son said, “I love you, Daddy,” with his favorite rock.

My First Massage

My wife and I took a trip last weekend. We had been planning a getaway for practically since Luke was born and finally got our chance. My wonderful wife booked the nicest room in a new hotel for us with a hot tub, king-sized bed, right next to the pool, etc. She also, after asking me my opinion, scheduled a couple’s massage for us at a nice spa just a mile up the road from our hotel.

Before I go any further, I need to make it known that I have never had a professional massage before. I am the sort of person who doesn’t particularly care to be touched by someone I don’t know. So, I felt a little weird about going in for something like this, even though my wife would be receiving the same treatment in the same room. Another item of note is the fact that I have an extremely high tolerance for pain, so I don’t feel things the way most people do and I have to be careful about how I do things since I will hurt myself and not realize it.

So, Friday morning we wake up refreshed, hit the free breakfast bar, and head out for our massages. We arrive, fill out forms explaining any ailments, medications, or recent surgeries (I noted my vasectomy on the sheet) and then waited a couple of minutes while the therapists prepared to work on us. We were almost immediately greeted by our therapists and taken back to a small, dimly-lit room with two massage tables. They looked comfy and soft. My therapist was a slightly overweight woman named Amber. Rachel was to have her muscles smooshed around by a bearded fellow by the name of Jim. They both smiled warmly and reassured us of their desire to make us feel comfortable. Then they told us to take off our clothes and left the room.

Rachel and I disrobed quickly and slid into the smooth warmth of the massage tables, face down. We both commented on how nice it was to use the face cradles and lie flat. It was very nice. Then, the therapists entered the room. New Age music was immediately audible at their entrance. It partly annoyed me at first, then relaxed me once I decided this was not the time to be anal about music.

Amber began. She squirted an odorless oily substance into her hands and began work on my back. The first touch was fine, but my initial reaction was to laugh because it tickled so much. Rachel had signed us up for a deep tissue massage instead of the more, circulation/relaxation driven Swedish massage. But, I wasn’t feeling the deep-tissue feeling I expected. However, being it was my first massage, I waited and let her continue.

Unfortunately, I found myself under a type of tickle torture I had never before experienced. Every touch was like a feather being dragged along my sensitive spine. At first, I tried to hold in the laughter. My body tensed and skook. Amber stopped, “Are you alright, Josh?” “Oh, sure. Fine. Feels great! I just feel like I want to make sounds.” “Oh, um, ok.” For the entire back portion of the massage, I held back my laughter: something I am not used to doing, ever.
Finally, she moved to my legs. My right leg was bared. She oiled her hands. The moment she made the first rub, I cackled, jerked, rolled. I couldn’t control myself. Laughter cascaded from me as urine from an ACPO member. Amber and Jim initially seemed confused, but Rachel’s laughter seemed to give them confidence that I was just like that. Finally, I told Amber that she needed to press harder and that she had been tickling me mercilessly the whole time. She apologized to the inadvertent torture and proceeded to press harder. She pressed as hard as she could for the rest of the massage. And I laughed as hard and long as I have laughed in a long time.

Afterward, we went to the front of the parlor to pay for the relaxation. The receptionist was smiling and asking what exactly we were doing back there. Everyone in the lobby had heard my laughter from the back of the place. I doubt I will get another massage for a long time. I enjoyed it, but I don’t think it was worth the money. I expected the therapeutic effects to last at least a week, but alas they lasted only the rest of that day. Not good enough for what we paid. But, the effects of the laughter on my spirit and the relaxation and buoyancy I felt may have been.

Waiting on Harry Potter

Here is some footage of Sip and I as we waited to see the harry potter movie whos time got bumped up and left us waiting around doing nothing. But it was good to just sit, talk, and watch people for a while...

Trippin' (Written by BigSip, posted by Jamison)

“Adventure” was the word upon our lips as we surveyed the rock-laden glory of the Tallapoosa last Friday morning. Our trucks were loaded with coolers containing no sparse amounts of beverages, foods, and snacks, boats (mine, at least 40 years old and Jamison’s, only a year at most), and camping gear for a one-night stay. We were ready to conquer the river; or was it ready to have its victory over us?

As Mullins and Jamison unloaded Jamison’s truck, Charles and I walked upstream and took in the breath-taking rapids. I was glad to have seen them and even more glad we were releasing our small barks below them into the milder currents of the yet-unexplored river. After we unloaded my boat and gear, we left Charles and Mullins to guard the provisions while we and Jamison’s friend Wayne headed to our parking spot across from the Tallassee Police Dept. Wayne was a good-natured country boy of around 45 who deserves props for taking his time to help us out (thanks, Wayne, where ever you are). Jamison and I arrived back at the river to find that Mullins and Chuck had not yet arrived back at the boats. We soon found them, but not without some walking that allowed us to take in more of the scenes.

We left at about 7:30 AM with the idea that the river current would be as strong the whole time as it was from the start. How wrong we were. The initial push from the rapids would be one of the strongest currents we would experience on our two-day, 35 mile journey. We soon began to row and row and row. We lashed our boats side by side (a configuration affectionately referred to as a “red-neck pontoon boat) and began to power our heavy boats down the river, our muscles already burning. It was the kind of hard work that made you feel alive and really appreciate your desk job, but it was worth every stroke for the sights and adventures we were soon to have.

The first sites we noticed were the gorgeous rock formations and wilderness. High, striated, colorful rock faces enveloped us as we paddled along. In fact, we all had to concentrate hard on keeping a steady pace as we had so much to divert our attention.

Next, we noticed the fish jumping: striped bass, large mouth, trout, and others we had no time or opportunity to identify. There were entire herds of deer, too. Beautiful, strong animals they were, crossing the river in the shallows. Then the birds flew by and we knew we had reached the center of it all. Kingfishers and woodpeckers abounded. We saw at least 2 blue herons. But the most amazing site of all was two bald eagles who were apparently nesting in the vicinity. At first, we couldn’t believe our eyes. Two bald eagles in Alabama? None of us had any idea that such a thing was possible. Although we really didn’t get close enough to get good footage or pictures of the majestic birds, Jamison, to his credit, took film and pics, nevertheless. It will etched in our collective memory from now on, I can assure you.

The most physically exciting parts of the adventure were the strong currents and downhill runs. The first one we saw would seem quite bland to anyone reading this, but let me explain, if I can, how amazing it was. At about 100 yards, we noticed that the river seemed to end abruptly up ahead. We prepared ourselves for some unknown falls or drop that was, as yet, unmapped. As we got closer, we saw from about another 100 yards that there was a 50-60 foot rock face running perpendicular to us, but we were almost eye level with the top of it. And then, we saw it. A downhill run loomed before us, accompanied by a rush of water we hadn’t heard since the rapids at the start of the trip. We steeled ourselves and made to row into the strong current. We strained against the flow and we topped nearly 5 mph, running with the river, out of control, and into a sharp bend at the bottom which spun us into a wide arc, from which we quickly recovered. The roar of beastly men that went up to the heavens after that run cleared wildlife for a mile at least. The river’s first test was done and we had triumphed!

We ran with the river 20 miles that first day. We heaved and sighed. We gasped at the landscapes and wildlife. We gave and took orders from each other, “Mullins, rudder! Chuck, row! Sip, wake up! Jamison, where the hell are we?” We laughed and sang snippets of songs and laughed again. We named movies from the most obscure movie lines. We shared everything in our small, floating commune. Food and drink were in abundance as were stories and remembrances.

Fortunately, (and I say this at the risk of sounding hypocritical) we had solid cellular communication for the duration of the trip. As a result, we were able to correct an oversight and have Larissa charge a battery for Jamison’s trolling motor which we planned to pick up at the toll bridge the following day.

Eventually, we made for an inviting sand bar and landed our small craft. A grassy trail led us to a small, circular glen, perfect for making camp. It was obvious that the area hadn’t been used in years, but we found plenty of firewood and kindling, including some pre-chopped wood that lasted us through the night. Jamison had pre-cooked some chili which he warmed on the fire after we made camp. It was delicious. Unfortunately, the day was not without one casualty. The mixture of sun, exertion, chili, pineapple wedges and few puffs of the pipe later found Charles in a deluge of upper gastrointestinal infortitude which caused our first and only sighting of a geyser for the entire trip. The rest of us pitched-in and took care of our brother as he heaved and moaned. After 10 such bursts as never witnessed by man, he was calm in the guts and ready for bed.

We rested peacefully under the stars that night, peering through the tangled circle of trees as sleep filled our bodies. The enjoyment and sweet rest were only punctuated by the hard work and visions of the day.

We awoke shortly after daybreak the following morning and fried bacon and hash browns that Jamison deftly prepared. We also had some nice bread (provided by Mullins) and fried summer sausage (my provision). We broke camp soon thereafter and took the boats out much lighter since we had eaten, drunk, and burned many of our provisions. We also took our boats separately. Chuck and I took my boat while Mullins rode with Jamison.

All was smooth sailing except for the occasional exhortation to “Keep rowing!” from one of us toward another. There were a few obstacles which we managed to get into including some logs Chuck and I couldn’t avoid, but managed to bounce off after a few tense seconds. And Matt and Jamison stuck themselves pretty well on the bottom of the river in one spot (the river flowed only inches deep in some areas, making for some creative paddling for us all).

We had brought one fishing rod and some light tackle which Chuck used to hang one plastic worm from the end of the boat. At one point, the pole bent, but just as Charles attempted to set the hook, a beautiful, striped bass no more than 2 pounds leapt from the water and removed the lure from its jaw. We tried a couple more times to fish, but stopped as we needed to make good time to the bridge.

Good time we made! Jamison and I crawled from the boats beneath the toll bridge and took with us the 2 heaviest packs and one empty cooler. This was no small feat considering the bank was slick and nearly straight up. But, we managed the climb and walked to the nearest gas station where Larissa (who would twice save the day) picked us up. We rode to their house, loaded the motor and battery while she made us some sandwiches (best ever!) and went back as quickly as possible. On the return journey, we placed the battery in the cooler to share the load and took turns carrying the motor. Finally, we slid down, untied, and once more set out for parts unknown.

We were disappointed, at first. The motor would only last so long, so we found ourselves still rowing most of the trip and using the motor for some much-needed rest now and then, which cheered us up and let us know we could continue, at least part of the way.

You see, our original plan was to go 43 miles all the way from Tallassee to Ft. Toulouse, but our hopes of making it to that ramp before the park was closed, trapping Chuck’s SUV and our boats, were dashed. We rowed hard and used the motor, still clinging to the hope of finishing our original undertaking, all-the-while our hopes slipping and finally broken by a beach full of drunk rednecks who insisted we’d never make it before dark.

But, again, resourcefulness and a wonderful, selfless mate prevailed. Jamison knew of a little-used boat ramp at a small camper-trailer park just past the Hwy 231 bridge. It was our best hope and our most difficult task yet. When we arrived at the bridge, we noticed the step rock and muddy faces of the banks first of all. But, those were not the worst of our obstacles. The unfriendly and territorial trailer park residents, Jamison told us, were not welcoming to people not of their lot using their ramp. What would we do?

And then, we hatched the plan that would make our trip even grander than we could have imagined!

Jamison called Larissa. She would meet us soon at a gas station just down from the bridge and transport Chuck, Jamison, and me to Ft Toulouse to get Chuck’s SUV. Meanwhile, Matt would wait on the opposite bank with the boats and pull up to the dock at our signal.

We pulled up to the rocky face beneath the bridge and began our ascent. The cliff loomed before us, but we had no fear. Hand and foot, we scaled the face and were to the gas station 5 minutes before Larissa’s arrival. Soon, we were in Chuck’s ride and motoring to the abandoned gas station across from the police station.

On the return trip, as we neared the trailer park, we saw Mullins, already nearing the ramp. I honked, he waved and he began his convergence on the dock.

Moments later, Jamison and I were in my truck, driving literally 2 mph (the posted speed limit) and acting like we belonged there. I backed down the ramp slowly. The ramp was steep and precariously paved, so great care was needed. At the bottom, Mullins had already begun the Operations Consolidate and Unload. We were ready!

The gear, coolers, and boats flew onto the truck and were tied minutes later. Mullins walked up beside the boat as we slowly (painfully slow) climbed the ramp in the truck. But, our hearts sank slightly as we neared the top. A man who looked like a cross between Panama Jack and Yosimite Sam waited at the top of the ramp, watching us climb.

Fortunately, we had the right man for the job to sweet talk these wary trailer-dwellers. During his wait on the opposite side of the river, Mullins had witnessed this same fellow attempting to start his small boat for about 45 minutes. Finally exasperated and possibly hen-pecked by his awaiting, halter-top bedecked wife, the man admitted defeat, shirtless, hatless, and shaking his mop over the trailer tongue.

“Did you ever get that thing started?” Mullins chortled to the man’s defeated surprise. We were soon home free and laughing again over some cheap Mexican food.

Did we conquer the river in those two days? Did it win over us? I think everyone was victorious. But, don’t ask the river.

What Happened to the Blogathon?

Indeed, I cannot blog at work any longer. So sorry to be gone so long, but there are a few good excuses/reasons:

1. I have a new job where I work in a secure environment and things like Blogger, MySpace, and pretty much every other fun thing on the internet are blocked. This is a good thing in many ways, though since I really enjoy the work I'm doing. Have I explained what it is I am doing? Well, here goes: I am in charge of writing and enforcing the standards used to protect the entire Air Force network. No small task, but one that has been actually fun for me. I work with some very nice and fun people, too, which makes the job even better.

2. I have 2 little boys now. Luke just turned 3 on March 4th. He's lots of fun. Every afternoon, I come home and we play with his train set or in the backyard or something. By the time he and Noah are asleep, I just don't think about the blog...Noah is beautiful. He's growing way too fast, but strong and well.

3. We're about to renovate our kitchen and family room. This entails so much more than I can mention here. We're doing it ourselves, though, with the help of my dear old Dad. It's going to add some significant space and open up the rooms quite a bit. Lots to do, lots to do...

OK, 3 reasons are enough, right? Wrong. I feel bad about not visiting my dearest friends. Hopefully, this post will expunge my trespass from the blog record. But, I do hope to chronicle a few more things here. I miss writing, too. So many things must move to make space, but for the best, my dear friends.

Oh, I almost forgot! Some of you know this already, but Rachel is working from home now! I'm very proud of her, and the extra cash helps, too.

Alright, that's it for now. I'll write again as soon as I can think of something to write about and have time to do it. Love and peace, my brothers.

First Day

Well, I'll start by saying that my new work environment will not allow me to blog from work. It's all for the best, of course, but I'll miss having the amount of interaction I used to have.

On the other hand, I LOVE where I work thus far. I went in this morning and did some paperwork in the very building I used to work in. Then it was off to Gunter Air Force Base to see my boss and meet everyone.

When we finally got to the building, it looked like any other government building I've ever seen. But, inside it was a different story.

My boss, Bernie, took me to the "watch floor" first. It looked like something right out of NASA or some sci-fi flick that portrays a military watch floor. Everyone sat on tiers at lined-up workstations and looked on as information scrolled across huge, flatscreen TVs mounted to the walls. There were several different clocks to tell them what time it was in Japan, Germany, etc. It reminded me very much of where I worked up in Georgia, just way cooler.

After I met some folks and filled out paperwork, Bernie took me to my workspace. I was equally amazed, but in a different sort of way. The room struck me as serene. The carpet was a dark, calming green color, flecked with complimentary tones, the cubicle walls were sage with hints of black and there was a huge accent wall at the end that was the same, calming green color. Not only was the space colored perfectly, the lights, instead of beaming down garrishly on my head, were pointed toward the ceiling, causing a beautiful, dappled feel. On top of all that, I have a huge workspace with a large, L-shaped desk, 3, yes 3 separate computers, and an ergonomic chair my boss said cost over $350 (of course, everyone there has one!).

Everyone has been very nice and helpful and interested in my ideas for how to change their training environment. I'm looking forward to really digging in and getting started! I think I'm going to really enjoy this job.

Semi-Secret Agent Trainer Man

So, the interview was today. They hired me on the spot and said I'll get to negotiate my salary later. I have a few more papers to fill out, but Bernie the task lead and Bobby the DB guru said they are looking forward to working with me.

The job itself hearkens back to what I used to do in the Air Force and for Lockheed Martin. Of course, I had a Top Secret/SCI/SSBI clearance back then, but I'll have at least a Secret this time because of the nature of the work.

First off, I'll be the lead trainer in charge of all the training development, standards, evaluations, education, etc. I have never been as excited about a job.

I just typed what I'll be doing, then I deleted it. I'm a little reluctant to post it, but let's say we'll be handling some matters of national security.

Thanks for all the prayers and support my friends. We are ever thankful for you all and our Father even more.

Say a prayer of thanks to God!

The HOLY COW Jumped Over the Moon

I'm sorry, Brew, but I had to blog this:

I was outside hanging Christmas lights after Wed night class tonight after the boys had gone to bed, when my wife sticks her head out the back door and says, "Josh, NASA just emailed and they want you to work for them..."

I asked her to repeat what she'd just said. She said it again and I asked if it was a joke or SP@M or something...

"Nope, this guy emailed you for real."

I finished up the lights and walked in, still not sure about how real this email was. When I got to the computer, there it was:

Joshua,

I came across your resume in our database and wanted to reach out to you to see if you are open to relocation to Huntsville, AL. We have a position working with NASA as an instructional design consultant that I thought you might be an excellent fit for based on your background. If you are interested please let me know and I will give you a call to discuss in more detail.

Ummmm, what the heck!?!?

This is NOT a joke. This guy is serious. He works for a company called Booz Allen Hamilton who contracts to NASA among other government entities. I told him to call me to discuss it tomorrow afternoon. Only thing is, we'd have to move to Huntsville. I called my Mom and she said that if it were her, she'd HAVE to check it out. Rachel and her folks agree.

And, after all, just because I check it out doesn't mean I have to take it. Right?

Some Things In There Aren't in There

My new sister-in-law is a Bible major at Lipscomb. Yes, I also wonder why, but I admire her for loving the Word and desiring to learn more about it.

She was at the house Sunday afternoon, talking about a paper she had to write concerning the canonization of Jude and the questions surrounding a passage found in Jude from the Book of Enoch (a book probably written by a Pharisee during the first century AD).

The verse is Jude 1:9 and goes like this:

But Michael the archangel, when he disputed with the devil and argued about the body of Moses, did not dare pronounce against him a railing judgment, but said, "The Lord rebuke you!"

This verse is found nowhere else in scripture and refers to an occurrence outside the realm of what we know. How do we account for this? Are there other passages where ideas, religious or otherwise, are inserted in the Word?

The short answer is, "Yes."

Here are a few more passages I found here:

The works of theGreco-Roman philosophers Epimenedes and Aratus, quoted by Paul inActs 17:28.

Romans 1:20-29 // Wisdom 13:5,8;
14:24,27Romans 9:20-23 // Wisdom 12:12,202
Corinthians 5:1,4 // Wisdom 9:15
James 1:19 // Sirach 5:11
James 1:13 // Sirach 15:11-12

Here are some more I found here:

Books referenced by the Bible, but not included in the Bible, are...
Book of the Covenant (Ex. 24:7) Book of the Wars of the Lord (Num 21:14) Book of Jasher (Josh 10:13, 2 Sam 1:18) The Book of the Statutes (1 Sam. 10:25); Book of Samuel the Seer (1 Samuel 10:25, 1 Chr 29:29) Book of Nathan the Prophet (2 Chr 9:29) Book of the Acts of Solomon (1 Kings 11:41) The Book of Gad the Seer (1 Chr. 29:29); Book of Shemaiah the Prophet (2 Chr 12:15) The Book of Ahijah the Shilonite (2 Chr. 9:29) Visions of Iddo the Seer (2 Chr. 9:29); Acts of Abijah/Story of Prophet Iddo (2 Chr 13:22) The Story of the Prophet Iddo (2 Chr. 13:22); Book of Jehu (2 Chr 20:34) Acts of Uzziah, by Isaiah, the son of Amoz (2 Chr. 26:22); Sayings of the Seers (?) (2 Chr 33:19) Book of Enoch (Jude 1:14)

Also, a missing epistle of Paul to the Corinthians (1 Cor. 5:9); a missing epistle to the Colossians, written from Laodicea (Col. 4:16)

Very interesting. It builds my faith to see this since the inspired writers verify their contemporaries through mentioning them outright. What do you guys think about this?

Yet Another Update

Sorry to keep telling y'all about this job, but I got some very promising news today.

Yesterday afternoon, I telephoned a good friend of my Dad who used to be to Mayor of Luverne (my hometown). He was appointed to the Alabama Department of Economic Community Affairs (ADECA) by the Governor and later promoted to the head of the Alabama Banking Assoc. In other words, the guy has some pull.

When I phoned him, he wasn't there, so I left a message. He called me this morning and said he needed me to email him all the info I could about the job so he could write me a letter of recommendation.

I emailed him immediately and he emailed me right back. Come to find out that he knows the Colonel in charge of hiring for the job PERSONALLY! He used to work with her when he was with ADECA!

So, he's giving her a call and plans to put in a very good word for me!

Y'all all please keep praying. It's working!

Shake Your Money Maker

Just a little job update:

I may have mentioned this already, but last Thursday evening in my class at Faulkner, I mentioned my need for employment to one of my students. She happens to be in the Air National Guard at Dannelly ANG Base here in Montgomery, so I asked her about possible positions thhere. She said they are starting a new program called the National Youth ChalleNGe. It's a program for kids who have dropped out of school and want to get their GED in an environment of discipline, care, and organization.

She got in touch with the lady who takes the resumes while I ran across the hall to the computer lab to print my resume. I brought it back to her and she said she'd take the resume straight to the top; a Colonel in charge of hiring for the program.

I got an email from my student today. She told me that she had taken my resume to the Colonel and to an Information Systems group out on Base.

I asked her to take an updated Resume and Cover Letter to the Colonel, which she graciously did. She emailed me back a little while later and said she gave them to the Colonel and she was very interested!

Y'all please continue to pray for the right thing, but I'd really love to do this job!

One of Those Days

I went to the urologist yesterday with high hopes that I'd be in and out with an appointment to have my vasectomy. Of course, I had no such luck. My appointment was at 10:30 AM. So, I courteously arrive at 10:15 then had to wait till 11:30 to be called back. The doctor made it in at about 11:45 and rushed around frantically while he made funny jokes about testicles. He had me stand before him, drop my pants, and show him my stuff. He was impressed that both of my vas deferens (the tubes he'll be snipping for me) run along the front. He said it was unusual, but that it would make surgery easier.

After he examined "my balls" as he called them, he, just out of nowhere, said, "Bend over." I asked him why. "You're getting the check." That's right folks. Dr. Hot Dog Fingers checked my prostate! OW! I feel so violated. At least it was over quickly.

However, my day didn't end there. I came back to work after being gone for 2 hours and went to discuss my surgery schedule with my boss. She asked me to close the door to her office. I almost asked why, but thought better of it and just closed the door.

In a few words, she told me that our current contract was almost out of money, our other contract wasn't looking good, and we'd probably have layoffs. She wanted me to know so I could have my surgery before that happened, so my insurance would cover it. I told her I appreciated the info and that I'd try to do that. I also told her I'd be looking at other employment opportunities. She said she'd try to help me find something in company, but I think I'd rather find something else. I wouldn't turn down a job here, but I look at this as a way to move into something I enjoy more, I hope.

I returned to my cube, disheveled, but determined. I called the doctor. They had no open surgeries till December 15th. I'll probably be laid off before then. Rachel called and I filled her in on the job (I figured Dr. Hot Dog Fingers could wait). She immediately sprung into action looking for jobs for us both. Thank God for her.
My parents, who have some pretty good connections, are checking the job scene for me. Larissa's helping me look on base. I have a good network inside and outside of work. So, I should be able to find something soon. But, y'all please pray for us. I don't want to come upon Christmas without a job.

What I've Learned

My class at good ole Faulkner has been nothing short of great. I love teaching and I'm happy to be paid for it but, the students are the greatest aspect of the class.

They aren't the best writers in the world. But, they have an ability to express themselves that intrigues and even impresses me. There's an importance to what they have to say. As a writer, I have never appreciated that as much as I do now. When you write, you're consumed with your own characters, craft, and creativity. No one else's art seems to matter as much as yours. After all, you're making up a whole world and following in the great steps of the literary fathers.

But, none of that matters as much as the heart and soul of the person who tells you about her losses or the end of his life as he knows it. So, in some ways, writing is a great equalizer. It reaches into the parts of us that we didn't look for before. Some will tell THE story and some won't. But, we'll all find something good and maybe even great.

I think what makes this writing different and wonderful to me is the fact that these people are not writers. They don't care to be writers. But, they yearn to be understood; to express in some way who they are. The result is a colorful mixture of words and phrases that delve into a world rarely witnessed by the uber-literate. The words say something true and unmuddled. They speak in kind, warm declarations. And somehow, in flattening themselves, these people make themselves rounder. I'm privileged and blessed to have seen the contents of humanity, clearly printed on the page. It's something I'll never forget.

A Classic, Forever Ruined

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,
You are,
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".

Professing

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.

Our Hands

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.

Harry Potter Must Die

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.

My Professorial Debut

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.