Life and Times of Shaul

The Weather?

2011-03-25T18:23:00.003-05:00

It's a little after 6pm, and we have both kids in bed - and asleep - for the night. It feels a little bit like Bizarro World (Seinfeld reference), but instead of switching Kramer's and George's somebody switched nights and days. I have a feeling I need to go to bed soon in order to get up that early with the kids. And it's Shabbat?

Moving on to the weather. Seriously.

I don't get out much these days, but I was at Wal-Mart thanks to Jess the Mechanic. Tire Tim aided our analysis of the no load, 270-40-15 tires (or whatever those #'s were). So there I was ... the Wal-Mart tire/lube waiting area. The service was quite poor, but they were the only ones who had my tires. No wait - maybe due to the poor service. Odd though, as I expected more people there for an oil change at least on a Friday afternoon from 3-4pm.

While working on my computer in the waiting room, the TV was on the Weather Channel. After awhile, the show started recycling itself through duplicate clips of this guy and then a gal telling us AGAIN what the weather would be. While thankful that trash TV wasn't what I was trying to filter out, it did make me curious.

Since Wal-Mart influences so many Americans, then is this a sign of where our culture is at? Do we have to have the Weather Channel on in the waiting room in order to not offend anybody - by "keeping all conversations limited to weather" in theory? Is this what secular multi-culturalism has brought us to - keeping us all united on the least common denominator of weather? It just felt very pathetic. Maybe even pacifist. Eventually depressing, which I noticed may be a theme of the stereotypical Wal-Mart worker. They just look sad, bored, or lonely ... or all of the above.

In reading lately, I realized that loneliness is not only the product of secularism (I use that term now to include atheism, humanism, nationalism, agnosticism, etc.). Loneliness is also a product of Hindusim, New Age, and Buddhism. These monistic religions are polytheistic, secular, or both - depending on the "denomination" you refer to. Why do they breed loneliness though? First, if truth comes from man like in secularism, then men never agree ... thus bringing about isolation and loneliness since you have no ultimate shared values or thinking/feeling/experiences with others. It's painfully isolating, even though you get to be "right" about your faith or worldview 100% of the time. But polytheism is just as isolating, as truth supposedly comes from one of many gods, or spirit guides, or even themselves. (Note that it's really only the monotheistic faiths which foster a pure communal identity.) My educated guess, after researching, is that 99% of our country is in a place of secularism or polytheism, since anybody "blending faiths" falls into one of these two categories.

So maybe my Wal-Mart weather experience was a picture of the State of the Union?

Let the evangelism begin.

Judge Wapner ... and friends

2011-01-11T21:41:00.003-06:00

This is from the original court show, when the judge was less obnoxious than the plaintiff and defendant. But here's a classic post-case interview ... the interviewer is left speechless.

http://www.wimp.com/peoplescourt/

and then for the friends ...

http://www.wimp.com/quietriver/

2010-12-16T20:46:00.001-06:00

Here are a few more of my favorites ...

http://wimp.com/airplaneskydive/

http://wimp.com/withoutparachute/

http://wimp.com/waterslide/

High Dive?

2010-11-05T01:01:00.003-05:00

You don't want to miss this one ...

http://www.wimp.com/bellyflop/

Now a man doing a belly flop is much different than a woman. Ouch. Notice how there was a break in the video from when he landed until when he finally climbed out of the water. My guess is he stayed in the water for about a half hour recovering.

One, Two, Threeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2010-10-28T21:40:00.003-05:00

To read the title of this post, you have to visualize yourself at an Olympic wrestling match - I'd say Greco-Roman but that sounds so pagan. In the white corner, we have the Dad (yours truly) weighing in at 170 lbs. In the pink corner, we have Hadassah weighing in at 17 lbs. Yes, I outweigh her by 10x.

But in this style of wrestling, it's really a question of who can wiggle the fastest. While my brute force comes in handy, I think she's quicker than I am. Now in any wrestling match, the object is not to punch the person, otherwise my strength would overpower her. But my goal is to pin her down ... in order to change a diaper.

You are probably surprised to hear of my struggles. But you have left out one key ingredient - she has an older brother named Noah, the Wiggle Master. She has learned from the best. She has nothing to do all day long - but watch and learn from him. I'm at a disadvantage, having other goals in life besides learning to wiggle ... the power of a focused life!

Every once in awhile distraction works. You can put her on the changing table, and through a combination of slight of hand, giggling, tickling, and sticking my face one inch away from hers for comfort zone violating eye contact ... somehow managing to change her diaper (without only occasional glances at my hands) before she realizes it. However, this is the exception. Here is a more typical version. Due to nudity, there will be no video footage available.

First, I grab her by the waste and lay her on the changing table. This is the slow, boring part of the wrestling match. But that ends when her back touches the table. Once she's on her back, she realizes the match has started. I can't even get a one count from the ref.

Potentially inspired by the fact that I've just been awarded two points for a take down, she reverses out of it INSTANTLY for one point. She's not messing around. She's on her belly before I can reach to unbutton the one-sy. How do you spell 1Z? Is it onesy? Or onezy?

Trying to flip her back over onto her back is a waste of my energy, as she can flip back to her stomach too easily and quickly. To conserve energy (and patience), you have to concede and get her clothes off somehow while she lays on her belly. But I'm still leading 2-1.

I forgot to mention this only works for pee diapers. Poop diapers are a different story. But next you have to get the diaper off - not easy since she's laying on her belly and thus top of those velcro straps. Sometimes it works to stand her up, but other times she's too wiggly and it gets dangerous on a changing table. Plus if she stands up, that's one point for her for an escape. So I prefer the second takedown of the match, putting her down on the floor. Score! I'm up 4-1.

Now all of her wiggling is less dangerous, and I can manage to get the diaper off. Here's how: with one arm, I can trap her arms from wiggling and demobilize her while she's standing. The first wipe is damage prevention, keeping "stuff" off of me and the carpet. The second wipe is much trickier - trying to finish the job in the standing position is less than ideal. It's easier to put her back on her belly and wipe, but she often gets one point for an escape here. It's 4-2.

At this point, I have to go for the pin. That's right, a three count with her shoulder blades touching the ground. This is the position I need to complete the second wipe. So I muscle her down onto her back, and then I put my armpit right on top of her belly. I'm in the trenches here! But this blocks her head and arms from wiggling. Then I use my left hand to hold her legs down, and that's the hardest part. She has two legs and I have one hand. Have you ever tried to catch two baseballs simultaneously? It's about timing and coordination as much as power. My right hand is utilized for that crucial second wipe. I only have three seconds before the ref makes me move away, and before those legs break free.

It's not done there though. Getting a diaper and clothes back on is just as dramatic. It's essentially all of these steps in reverse. But as you can see, the process ends with me ahead 4-2, plus a 3 count pin and of course a clean diaper. Ding ... Ding. I almost smile out of satisfaction, but I'm a bit winded and near out of patience. It's at this point that she smiles, acting as if nothing ever happened.

Dog Disaster

2010-10-19T22:16:00.002-05:00

This may be semi-blog worthy, so bear with me.

A neighbor with three mini-dogs walks the block often, and yes he carries their poop. But Noah and I had him stop this time to pet the dogs. Oreo is the friendly one, and he came right up to us. I bent over and stuck my hand really low to show Noah how to let him lick you.

Warning ... it's at this point in the story that children should not continue reading.

All of a sudden, the most disgusting thing happened. I could have showered three times afterwards and not felt clean.

Oreo in his zeal stands up on his hind legs - not usually a problem. But he did it so fast and aggressive that he plastered his underside against my forearm. And you know what that means. I found Oreo was a boy as he smashed "it" against my finger! AAAAAAWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Full body shiver!

Drummer

2010-10-12T00:06:00.002-05:00

We're still missing a stage presence when it comes to the drums, so maybe we'll add this guy on Sunday nights! (Make sure you watch until the end, because his moves get better as it goes).

http://www.wimp.com/wronggig/

I've watched this one about ten times, and I still laugh out loud.

The Beautiful Game

2010-10-04T16:20:00.003-05:00

So if you're going to play a sport, why not soccer? Here are three short videos that fans, and even a casual observer, would appreciate ...

This is Rene Higuita, famous for inventing the "scorpion" as modeled here ... http://wimp.com/crazysave/

Next we have the best goal ever ... http://wimp.com/niceplay

And finally the best soccer juggling video I've seen ... http://wimp.com/greatskill/ ... they are so fast you have to watch carefully to even see their moves.

And just so the non-soccer fans don't get left out, if you watch until the end of this video you'll see a not-so-creative solution by the employees on how to solve the over-crowding problem ... http://wimp.com/realbad/

Enjoy!

Seriously Japan?

2010-09-30T23:39:00.002-05:00

Okay, this is a great title to a video ... Seriously Japan?

http://www.wimp.com/seriouslyjapan/

Clapping Mohawks sounds like a bad band name.

Pretty Impressive

2010-09-27T23:19:00.005-05:00

In order to post more often than once every six months, I decided to begin sharing some entertainment with you all that is not original material.

www.wimp.com/walkwater

Come on, you've always wanted to figure out a way to do this!

Fashion Statement

2010-07-16T16:00:00.003-05:00

Point of information: this blog about fashion does not contain pictures. I realize the affect is drastically reduced, but our technical department (Lauren) is out of town. Upon her return, we will attempt to enhance the blog with a visual.

You may have heard of my plaid pants, or even my hidden desire to see capes return to style, but today the subject is directed into a more plausible mainstream fad that has now hit the west coast. You can be the first mid-westerner to be as fashion forward as your friendly P-Blake neighbors. Introducing ...

Job's Robes!

You may be thinking bath robes. Nope. We're talking about real robes, as all the nations of the earth can trace their ancestry back to robes, even similar to the kind they wore in the 70's. Although we may have missed the window since trends are now imitating the 80's, it's really not that far-fetched. Think techno music with young people in hippie clothes - or robes. We need to jump on this opportunity, or else the next trend will be a bad re-make of grunge from the 90's whereby people are wearing skimpy clothes patterned after Nirvana. (Note: if said prediction happens about imitating Nirvana, this could lead us into a perilous season of reliving the year 2000 whereby we buy silver cars and wear silver jump suits similar to aliens from outer space since we're entering a new millenium.)

While plaid pants will remain on the golf course and capes at costume stores, don't be surprised when your neighbor who is tired of hyper-individualism and western culture goes near-eastern on you. Hollywood may even re-make the Ten Commandments movie to sell action figures to kids with this robes theme. Why will this go mainstream into things like movies? Because the humanists cannot reject anything, thus it will be accepted as a further expression of one's individualism. The New Age-ers won't reject your new fashion statement either since they will be attempting to decipher what type of energy you have. It will be far out to say the least.

Let's break this down a bit. Your neighbor is tiring of the intellecual and spiritual limitations of humanism and hyper-individualism, seeking out either New Age (eastern religions) or ancient religions (paganism, Catholicism, Judaism, Orthodox Christianity, etc.). In attempting to find meaning to life beyond the present, history begins to matter and world religions begin to become interesting. While frustrations remain with hyper-individualism as an idea, it is not as if we easily shift out of that with our actions. Thus, it logically concludes that people would wear robes as an expression of their hyper-individualism to express their frustrations of said philosophy. Oh yes, robes. It's the peak of tolerance in the midst of insanity.

For example, a young Gentile studying Judaism may begin to wear Orthodox Jewish clothes. Robes could easily be the style of choice for those studying Catholicism. In discussing this analogy with the immortal David Ham, he keenly noted: "It seems to parallel perfectly." Has there ever been a more forceful and persuasive case made by such a respected expert on sociology? He recently shaved his long beard, possibly in anticipation of this mega-trend, allowing him to re-grow it with a more distinguished point at the tip.

If the movies now portray mysticism, science-fiction, aliens, and neo-sorcery as the ideal over and against the greedy materialists of our day, then in an act of social defiance ... robes will be available soon at a Target near you. The irony is that it's hyper-individualism at its peak ... a constant state of confusion in attempting to blend flawed systems.

Those of a Biblical expression may find that it identifies them with their spiritual ancestors - or even as not of this world. What better way than to let your parents know you have abandoned the traditional American approach to life than by showing up this Thanksgiving in your new robe ... conversation starter?

With a down economy, you may not have the money to buy new clothes each time your wasteline changes. Solution: our classic robe is one size fits all and grows/shrinks with your seasonal fluctuations including mom's maternity needs. Stylish belts to choose from fit your classic robe or our customized robes that reflect historical and cultural patterns for a more authentic expression of your journey. If you are in need of an undergarment, we encourage the partner accessory entitled "Skidz for Kidz" which are brown ... thus disguising any streaks due to infrequent washing, thus preserving the environment and money.

So if you are looking for a green, economical, trendy solution to your identity crisis ... visit our web site at Job'sRobes.com ... and make that statement.

Blank Piece of Paper

2010-07-09T18:19:00.002-05:00

I know, I know. Welcome to the 2010 blog world, self. It really has been over 10 months since the last post. It's partially been a lack of comedic material, along with staring at a blank screen when trying to write something about Zeke or Wyatt. Each month kept whizzing by with nothing to offer in either realm. Moments of joy are here, with Hadassah being a big one, people getting baptized in the Holy Spirit, Anderson's wedding, Tikkun folks, and other times for sure ... but you know. It's just been a hard season.

So fast forward a year and there are a lot of new KL folks blogging. Shout out! Special thanks to Big Cass in particular to calling me out that it's been too long avoiding the blog world. So here we go - this is all I've got right now ...

If Lebron James wasn't a free agent, then would the media have space to address the war build-up in Iran?

If the US dollar tanks, the only country/organization big enough to bail us out of our debt/currency dilemma is the International Monetary Fund (IMF) - leaving us slaves to the UN/one world government folks.

I miss Wyatt's soft skin, and of course cheeks. But most - I miss his friendship with Harrison and Noah. I really don't understand why they don't get to grow up together.

I'm excited about playing some soccer - feeling lethargic lately and needing the exercise. Plus at 36 it's a wild card as to how many seasons I have left in me. Anywhere from 1 to 20? Golf realistically needs to wait out soccer's run - that isn't over yet.

Feeling a bit older lately. It's as if I had a decade birthday like 30 or 40, but obviously I didn't. Lauren keeps pointing out that I have more gray hair this year, but for me it's more of a feeling on the inside. From what I can tell, being here on earth while Wyatt is in heaven seems to be making me think more about time, so that's probably the biggest factor. Having a limp from something like that brings maturity and aging, so I guess it's good.

Been enjoying kissing little Cass on the cheeks lately. Man, she's so squishy! She seems to have warmed up to me (and others?) a lot now.

I seem to be thinking in terms of months now instead of weeks. Meaning, "Boy June went by fast." It used to be that I had that thought after a week. But now the weeks are so fast that I don't even think about it until the month.

Feeling more teacher lately instead of prophet (personality gifts from Romans 12), so maybe the CS, double introvert, lower energy part of me is kicking in.

Looking forward to Harrison turning 13. Our "man-talks" are pretty fun. It reminds me of a Juster comment that wonder is why kids are so fun to be around. They are in wonder of all the new things they encounter. So being on this journey with the Lord and KL folks is keeping my wonder meter ticking, but seeing little H-man's wonder meter go berzerk is pretty fun too.

Pets & Poop

2009-09-01T22:29:00.008-05:00

Pets. We grew up with pets ... dogs specifically. Abbie was the memorable dog from my childhood. We hunted with her, but I don't recall playing much with her. She slept in the same spot, which my mom liked because then the hair was all in one place to vacuum. My bad memory of Abbie was when she was old. She climbed up the doggie stairs to go through her doggie window to get outside ... but she fell off. She was spasm-ing on the garage floor when I got there. We didn't know if she was in pain, dying, or both. It was horrible. I remember my dad cried when we put her to sleep.

Fast forward ... there was a whirlwind of dogs after that. Sandie, Wendy, a few others with names ending with ee or ie or y ... but they wouldn't do. Rhea didn't pan out either, which is fine with me since her named rhymed with diahrrea. {Insert your own pun here, as I chose to ignore the pan, bed pan, diahrrea connection}. (Sorry for the second parentheses in a row, but this is no joke. My wife Lauren just said, and I quote ... "When you're sliding into first, and you feel something burst ... diahrrea uh uh, diahrrea uh uh.") Finally my parents settled on Peaches, who was a great dog in everyone's eyes except Jason's. I still think Peaches went to sleep too early.

I had Rock for awhile, a boxer that I really liked. Harrison was allergic to him though, and I was at work all day while Rock was bored at home. So he found a better home, and that has been my only adult experience with my own dog. Granted, I am an uncle to Yuma, in that funny sort of way whereby I invite her over even though it's understood that she will defecate or pee in my yard. The pee kills the grass, and Noah seems to step in the poop before we can pick it up. But Uncle Paul must not mind or else he would quit. I think it's seeing how excited Yuma gets when she knows I am in my work clothes, and she wants to run across the street. I have a hard time saying no.

Lauren and I have agreed on multiple occasions that a dog is not in our plans. Who would feed it? Clean up after it? Watch it when we travel? Pay for it? Not to mention the shedding, as guests can be allergic to dogs ... on and on and on. Her parents gave us a stuffed dog, Goldie, because they knew that we don't want a real dog. Goldie now sits by a window, partially as a joke/fake guard dog and partially because we have no real room for him elsewhere. However, there are emotional moments when Lauren almost caves, and recently we had one of those close calls. The neighbors were giving away free puppies.

Watch out men, you must stay strong in these moments of life. It's a 15 year commitment. In this case, some stray dog birthed some puppies in their garage ... yes, that's a BIG RED FLAG you just saw waving past you! Maybe half lab. I was a rock though, a pillar of strength and courage, unfazed by the moment. I even had the presence of mind to run a calculation on how many thousands of dollars it would cost us over 10-15 years if we took this "free" puppy. She ultimately realized that the emotions weren't a good enough reason to keep the dog. Afterward, she mentioned that the dog would have been sleeping with us in our bed! Men, do you see how crucial this is to hold your ground?!?! My bed needs to be clean, and dogs don't wipe their rears!

My main concern about having dogs is definitely the poop. Excrement is unclean. I think it's one of God's ways of reminding us how primitive and disgusting we can be. Have you ever felt prideful while sitting on the pot? I didn't think so. It's not a pomp and circumstance moment. Now I know that occasionally some of us guys have had moments of joy at the size or shape of our dung, but it's a vulnerable moment while you are sitting there. You can't really defend yourself if attacked while going ... girls don't like it ... the room stinks. And why do you start to sweat sometimes? That's a mystery to me. And even if you sneak in a game of hand-held Yahtzee or Poker, you have to make sure to not contaminate the hand-held game. An occasional redeeming factor is the alone time on a busy day, but overall it's a below average experience.

And no, I won't blog about my poop sample story.

With that said, I was talking with Tom recently about the poop in the yard from not one but two dogs at his house. That's a lot of crap. Whether it's fresh in the yard, fossilized over time in the grass, or stuck on your shoe ... ultimately the poop will hit the fan when somebody realizes that all this stuff has to be cleaned up.

I draw near to my conclusion with this very loosely paraphrased anecdote from Jerry Seinfeld (insert his voice inflection at your discretion). If aliens were to visit our planet, they would think the dogs are in charge. Why? We walk around behind our dogs, following them wherever they pull us. And wandering around aimlessly while staring at an animal's butt is not for kings. Then said dog drops a biscuit. I'm hear to tell you, whoever cleans up crap is not in charge of a planet. Not only that, but continuing to carry this biscuit in your hand is horrific - especially in those cheap, filled with holes, plastic hand-bags from Wal*Mart whereby you can still feel how gooey it is. {Side note that is definitely not from Jerry, although he is Jewish, as are tons of the comedians - I read that from a Jewish perspective there were certain occupations that were so bad that a wife could divorce her husband if he took it. Working with dung was one of them. Not sure if this was in ancient or modern times. Now continuing in Jerry's voice} ... The aliens would look at this scene, instantly recognize that the dog was the leader of our planet, and say, "Oh yeah, we need to talk to him."

So to close my thoughts on pets and poop, here is a picture of a recent toad found in our front yard. Noah likes bugs also, and we conveniently allow them all to live, pee, and take dumps ... outside ... in order to not disrupt the food chain.

Ezekiel

2009-08-24T22:34:00.002-05:00

It's been one of those days when life comes to a halt. The people we share life with, whether friends or family, thankfully all entered into this unique day with us. It was filled with the paradox as found explained only through Him and His Word: Time and Eternity, Life and Death. Although smiles seem out of character, they have helped restore peace and joy. While words seem shallow, they also carry us through. I don't even have a picture of him yet, so words and memories must bear the load. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

My wife has helped me learn that memories aren't just memories, but they are a hope of personally engaging again with the person. Our conversations with Ezekiel may be on hold, but only temporarily until we can dive deeply into fellowship with him. In this case, where memories are few, instead of the anticipation related to reminiscing, our hope is filled with other dreams. We will get to discover his demeanor, redemptive gift, mannerisms, humor, depth, and of course his unique reflection of the Spirit of the living God. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

There is an evangelism anointing associated with little Ezekiel, as was spoken to us by the Father during his ten days here on earth. As spoken through the Biblical prophet Ezekiel, his famous dry bones vision of chapter thirty-seven is explained in verses eleven to fourteen:

11Then He said to me, "Son of man, these bones are the whole house of Israel; behold, they say, 'Our bones are dried up and our hope has perished. We are completely cut off.' 12"Therefore prophesy and say to them, 'Thus says the Lord GOD, "Behold, I will open your graves and cause you to come up out of your graves, My people; and I will bring you into the land of Israel. 13"Then you will know that I am the LORD, when I have opened your graves and caused you to come up out of your graves, My people. 14"I will put My Spirit within you and you will come to life, and I will place you on your own land. Then you will know that I, the LORD, have spoken and done it," declares the LORD.'"

May the passing of baby Zeke from time to eternity usher in a a great harvest ... including a return to the land by the chosen people of God, and may they find their Messiah as He places His Spirit within them. May each one of us align with God's purposes to bring this to fruition. Despite Job's trials in life, including the sudden and tragic loss of family, he valiantly proclaimed ... the LORD gave and the LORD has taken away. Blessed by the name of the Lord. (Job 1:21)

We love you Zeke.

Costco Kirkland Court Classics

2009-08-18T21:45:00.007-05:00

We recently saw the Julie and Julia movie, and Julie took her blog fans seriously. So with all due respect, I've been neglectful to my fans. All 15 of you.

After seven months, you'd think I'd have something funny to blog about. Ideally. I'm actually in a blog windfall right now, as I have two ideas to write about. Both are in the slightly funny category. The first is a recent purchase, my CKCC's (my Costco Kirkland Court Classics).

My recent set of work shoes finally got the ax. I'm pretty sure I got them in college, so we're talking 13+ years ago. The internet had just been invented, and Al Gore had not yet claimed it. I couldn't find the cool black adidas that would make me popular at school, so I took a leap of faith and gave my credit card number to some strange company selling shoes online. I didn't try them on or anything, so I had ordered a half size bigger to make sure I didn't have to send them back (having to pay shipping) or find out their return policy stinks. Who are they accountable to? Nobody, since nobody was dumb enough to give their credit card to a stranger back then! After over a decade of faithful service, from casual wear to basketball to winter shoveling to lawn mowing ... it was time. It's possible that glue may have fixed them, if I glued together the 4-5 parts that were flapping all over the place.

But I've had my eyes on the CKCC's for awhile now. Why you say? They had that attractive price tag ... $14.99 baby. That's cheaper than the Obama coin that Montel was hawking.

Costco is one of my few brand loyalties in life, although I've recently realized that Hy-Vee (a grocery store) is another. Otherwise, I am just so neutral on most things. But even though in the big picture Costco and Sam's are the same store, for some reason they aren't to me. I like Costco. The food seems better, the products seems better, and the lines seem to go faster. We recently had both memberships for some promotion, but we like Costco and have settled back in there. I just like going.

Kirkland is the generic brand at Costco, and somehow they make food, clothes, and maybe 100 other things at Costco. It's really ridiculous. How can one brand be trusted to make quality shampoo, bread, and jeans? It's an urban mystery, but with their prices I like to try Kirkland stuff. So the CKCC's at 15 bones was almost a lock upon setting eyes on them ... all I needed was the justification to pull the trigger.

So for 6 months, I've been patiently waiting until my work shoes just became too annoying, and now the white whoppers are my digs for mowing. The CKCC's are definitely not for the court, but they do have that classic crisp white ... ala the straight man Jerry Seinfeld. I've inserted a few sweet pictures for your enjoyment, compliments of the lovely Lauren. Notice the sweet logo on the back, or the minimal hair on the legs (a Blake tradition).

You may not realize it, but you are probably very familiar with CKCC's. You've been at the shoe store before, trying to see if those bargain shoes will work for you. You try them on, and they feel funny. They're weighted strange. You definitely can't run in them ... like girls buying uncomfortable dress shoes for a wedding ... cramped toes or high heels. You're deciding if you can endure them, given the great price and their limited and specialized usage. It's a tough call. But since the price is usually $40+, it was a different ball game at $15. We went for it.

They should have made them three-quarter tops or low tops, but they're that in between top - the kind that nips at the bottom of your ankle bone. They also feel more like Dutch clogs than tennis shoes, as the heel is heavier than it should be. Overall, a great purchase.

Someone is riding my camel!

2009-01-06T21:45:00.005-06:00

Multiple choice - this is a photo of ...

a) Lawrence of Kansas
b) A bald man who wears a beard in the summer
c) A confused camel
d) Proof that robes with sunglasses combine for the look of the future
e) An Arabian soldier
f) A serious spiritual mapper
g) William

Correct Answer: "G" our very own William Matt Anderson

Rice, Rice, Baby

2008-12-02T08:36:00.006-06:00

I was enjoying a nice day at IHOP, reading and enjoying the music and intercession. Lou Engle was over on the side, rocking back and forth just like a good Jewish man would. I don't think he's Jewish, but the rocking was great.

When lunch time came, I went out since we bread was unavailable that morning. Now in Grandview, it's not like you're going to find a Chipotle or anything, so you have to think a bit in order to not end up at a cheap place because you're tired of driving around and realizing the places sound gross. I ended up going with Chinese since Lauren doesn't like it that much. And this is where the story of my rice picks up steam.

There are really only 3 genres of Chinese restaurants. There's the overpriced duck restaurant, whereby your duck with rice has soy sauce on it ... so it tastes like $30 chicken. Then there's the Oriental Buffet Garden type, where it's $6 for all-you-can-eat. Not a bad deal, but I've heard of a few of these that get shut down for sanitary reasons. And finally the Peking Express or Panda Express or whatever they end up calling it, where you can get a load of rice and chicken for only $4. The Express is where I ended up, and the atmosphere was epic.

I enjoy the Chinese restaurant, as they still try to hire Asian employees who speak broken English with a thick accent. It's like being at Epcot Center, right here in the heart of Grandview, Missouri. At the Express, they somehow have 80 items to pick from ... but I went with my usual of the chicken and rice to avoid any mystery meat. In classic low-budget fast food restaurant style, he wrote my order on a styrofoam box and handed it through the window, where I can't see what hygenic standards they maintain back there.

When I sat down is when the humorous, bloggable material began. Since I'm by myself then I grab a booth within earshot of the TV in case there's some news on the tube, next to construction guy who is staring at the screen. At first glance, it looked like news since it was two guys sitting still in a room. Well I was in for a real treat ... the Express left it on the info-mercial channel for me! How exciting! Today's feature ... a coin. It was spinning in nice circles so that I could see both sides.

This week's special was a Barack Obama coin that also had George Washington's mug on it. Of course there were two guys talking back and forth about how I MUST have this coin. The first was "coin guy" who was a very smooth talker, explaining that first I should collect coins, and more importantly that I should buy this coin. You see, newspapers wear out, so you don't want to collect those. But coins are made of metal, so they last a lot longer. And this may be worth thousands of dollars someday because it's ... can you believe it ... a limited edition coin.

Without my mentioning the price, I'm sure you already guessed it ... $19.99. Not kidding. I can only buy it right now, because it's a "President-Elect" coin. Now I did read the other day that President-Elect means nothing in our country other than hype. But the excitment wasn't dwindling because not only was coin guy smooth, but his sidekick is none other than Montel Williams! I had my cell phone on my hip like a six shooter, just ready for the phone number.

But then Montel says, "Aren't they selling another similar coin for only 17 bucks? [he really did say "bucks"] It only has Obama's picture intead of both him and Washington. So you should get this one." Now Robin, Batman is doing a fine job convincing Americans they should buy this worthless coin, why did you have to say that? I think they lost 20% of their sales with that comment right there.

Coin guy's time is finally over, and my Chinese is settling nicely. By the way I escaped the rest of the day without abdominal pain, so it was a successful lunch run. As I'm walking out, they announce that this was a paid info-mercial, and we go to commercials. The first commercial was perfect ... an ad to go to their website called something like "on-tv-for-u" whereby they are selling everything online that you didn't buy from infomercials. So if you somehow refrained from pulling the impulsive trigger, no worries ... just buy it online. Now that's funny - a warehouse with all the stuff they couldn't sell. They're going to have a few Obama/Washington coins in there unless Montel covers them.

To wrap up the afternoon, they go to one more commerical. Yet another classic piece, as they are trying to sell me a dirt-tiller/weed-wacker combo in late night commercial fashion. What's up with TV commercials for sharp metal objects like weed wackers, knives, and samurai swords?

Well, you guessed correctly ... I was able to keep the cell phone in its holster (no, I don't really have one of those hip holsters for my cell-phone) and save my $19.99, along with saving by not visiting "on-tv-4-u.com" or buying the dirt-tiller. So what's the moral to this story? If Montel mentions that there are similar coins available already, grab the remote and find that channel in order to do some quality comparison in your TV shopping.

The Dodgy Downstairs Deal

2008-11-22T10:01:00.015-06:00

Of all the situations to find yourself in, this was one of the more unique. There was a driver, a needle, a brain doctor, a urine bag, an off-duty nurse, and a suburban white couple who was questioning everything. There are pictures to verify this.

The driver was the instigator, possibly the brains behind the operation. She suggested that an off-duty nurse could be brought by the house, as long as the deal happened downstairs after dark. She also arranged for the brain doctor and the urine bag to be brought over for a cash transaction. The process could be completed in two hours if everything went smoothly, but that didn't happen.

If you haven't guessed yet, my wife and I were the suburban white couple ... the straight man, and in situations like this my spontaneous wife becomes even straighter then me. I've been coming down with some type of symptom lately, and we elected to treat it with non-traditional resources. Okay, so it wasn't a urine bag, but the rest of the details so far are true. It really looked like urine though.

The driver convinced us to arrange for an IV to be administered at our house. The only good news at this point is that I saw the needle come out of sterile packaging. But the nurse was coming off of an emotionally stressful conversation just minutes prior, and the doctor asks for a coat hanger almost immediately after coming in our front door.

The nurse whips out her rubber gloves, and to ease the tension I mention that she has no need to worry because I do not have HIV. She replies, "That's okay, this is to protect you from anything I have." Then she laughed ... I'm not sure that's funny.

The doctor and the nurse had never worked together before, so I was hoping that there would be some overlap in the knowledge base between the brain doctor and the nurse ... but that just wasn't happening. The brain doctor was afraid to do needles - something about how they were considered very tiny tools. The off-duty nurse wasn't sure what the doctor was talking about half the time, and as these two were prepping for the action, I heard the phrase "I don't know" way to often.

My wife was quite serious in her questioning, "Do you really want to do this? Are you really that sick?" The doctor had his questions also: "What did you eat for dinner?" It was like I got caught or something, and I replied honestly with "Pizza and root beer." He gave me a look like, "Well maybe that's why you're not feeling so well, chump." I knew better, so I did kind of feel like a chump.

The kicker may have been when the nurse asked for a pen and paper to do some math. We asked her if she wanted a calculator, but she said no. Hmmm. She didn't need my height or weight, but somehow she was going to calculate how long I'd be hooked up to the juice. After a few disgruntled looks on her face over the next five minutes of staring at numbers, ratios, and long division, she triumphantly announced that it would only take two hours hooked up to this IV. Why no calculator?

After much hesitation, we went forward with the IV and the bag of mystery fluid that looked like urine. They said it was vitamin C. The doctor even claimed to have had this done to himself once back during "school." It was going to help me feel better.

The process took another turn for the worse when the doctor took his money and left after the first 15 minutes. He said "just send me a text if anything goes wrong" over the next two hours. He was wearing all black instead of the traditional white, so what was I supposed to say? He said he was "going across the street" ... so does that mean he has another one of these scheduled for the evening?

The nurse and the driver stuck around for a bit, but that seemed to be more for emotional reasons. They seemed quite confident that this fluid dripping into my veins was going to work out just fine. But after an hour, they left also. So my wife and I are there in the basement, urine bag not even half empty, and I'm supposed to hold "pretty still" for another hour. We decide to play a card game, and well ... I end up not holding still enough. Who knew?

We make it past the two hour point, and at this point the calculator seems like a really good idea that the nurse opted out of. Maybe in her hand calculations she forgot to carry the one. We've made it through about 80% of the bag, but I'm not paying much attention to it at this point because I'm in a card game. But after awhile I look down at my arm. Sure enough, there's a knot near my elbow the size of a GOLF BALL!!! Are you kidding me? This is a dodgy downstairs deal gone bad from the suburban white couple's perspective.

In classic home remedy fashion, the doctor told us to "just pull the needle out when you're done." He may have even winked at me after he said this. Well at this point I'm DONE, as I don't want this knot by my elbow to keep swelling and burst urine all over the place, or whatever this "vitamin C" stuff is.

In true street fashion, I pulled out the needle myself. No pain ... mission accomplished (except the massive knot in my arm). I have the cell phone numbers of the brain doctor, off-duty nurse, and the driver. So I called all three of them ... with NO answer from any of the three! Classic. At this point, I'm thinking that I should have known all along that the follow-up care in procedures like this would be below average.

Eventually the driver ends up being the one to call back, not exactly who I needed on the other end of the phone. But she was with the nurse, who let me know that "this just happens sometimes." Oh thanks.

So if you saw my blog post a few months ago about business opportunities, you may recall that I like to post a moral at the end of the story. So the lesson for today is one you have heard before, but maybe in a different context. But we've read a story about the famous cliche - "It's not what you know, it's who you know." You see, if I hadn't known the driver, I would never have been able to get the medical care that I need.

Here's a picture of me questioning the process.

Here's a picture of me literally pointing the finger at the driver (not in the picture for legal and confidentiality purposes, since she was the brains behind the operation), along with an unsettlingly bewildered look on the brain doctor's face.

And finally, a great shot of the "urine" bag next to the mysterious coat hanger.

The Yard & the T-Blakes

2008-09-23T12:39:00.008-05:00

I'm not an "outdoor" guy in the the categories of outdoor, indoor, and indoor-outdoor. I'm an indoor guy. I really can't even juggle the scale somehow and consider myself an indoor-outdoor guy. Rumor on the street is that people over estimate themselves towards being more outdoor than they really are. Similar to how people overestimate themselves on how funny they really are. But when it comes to my outdoor lifestyle, I could go camping once every 15 years and not really feel like going again. Do people really think that it's more comfortable than a bed?

My exception is the yard ... I like the yard. It's very suburban of me I realize, and at times I feel like Hank Hill sitting in the back alley talking about the grass with his neighbors. I don't really enjoy talking grass though, it's just the working on it part that I like. I don't like messing with the flowers and bushes, but for some reason the yard is my domain. I like mowing and growing grass. I think it's because it's tangible, and the evidence of your work is right there. In our world of intangible ministry, that tangible yard outside is something to look out and ponder about what needs done. Then you do it ... and you can see it.

So all this spring, I invested in having a nice yard. I worked the land ... I planted the seed ... I fertilized ... I even laid down new dirt to help the seed not wash away. The laying of dirt was the time-consuming part. Not to mention the number of trips to the store to buy the dirt, and all the money invested. Then you have all the watering afterwards. But it was spring! It's the time of new birth and growth, so I went for it.

Apparently I should have asked somebody before doing all this work, as the time to plant grass seed is the fall. It's difficult to describe the let down, as that information was necessary about 6 months ago. I felt like a cave man who had from a hunting/gathering tribe, and then I decided to be the first generation to try agriculture by trial and error. It was as if the internet didn't exist, and I tried to pioneer grass growing all on my own.

With all that we've learned about the importance of the land, whether that be in our studies of transformation or regarding the land of Israel, my connection with the land is my grass. Irregardless (that was for Susan) I'm not a farmer, and I don't have any interest in being a farmer. So in order to connect with the land, God seems to have given me a desire to work on the grass.

I was taking it very seriously, and I was also thinking about the implications while I was out there working. I was considering this as my service to God, to make a space that was beautiful for Him to dwell. I was trying to create some ambiance, as Lauren loves to have, for all those who come to our house throughout the week. It was me taking care of the sanctuary.

So when I found out that my grass came up quickly, everything seemed to be working out. But the summer heat burned it off (especially since we were gone for three weeks, but the trip was to Israel so maybe there would be grace on that?). The roots weren't deep enough, and I remembered the parable of the sower and how difficult it must be for God to see us spring up quickly only to bail out later on.

It's fall now, and the "official" time to work on the grass is upon us. But the P-Blakes found themselves lacking in finances for grass after my spring investment fiasco. This was really disappointing, as now I have to wait until the spring of 2010 to see the yard look half way decent. Granted, if I had taken that business opportunity that I recently blogged about, maybe the extra cash would be sitting around.

This brings in the T-Blakes, who bought extra seed and fertilizer. I think they may have done it on purpose, but I can't confirm that. But they decided to give it to us, so now as I type I've got the seed and fertilizer down again and the sprinkler is running.

So thanks T-Blakes. Gifts are low on my love language list, but for some reason this one was a big hit.

I'll let you know if it makes it through the winter.

Business Opportunity

2008-08-08T13:55:00.002-05:00

So I'm out of commission today ... in bed with some type of fever, congestion, no energy thing. But that gives me a moment to fill you in on a great job option that you may not have heard of yet. To quote Jerry Seinfled, "you may have already won some very valuable prizes."

Here's the information you need to succeed. I was walking Noah around the block, and this elderly lady stops me to chat. She's very talkative, and we've spoken once or twice before. She and her husband drive matching cars, but they actually have 3 total that match. Maybe the third is a backup in case #1 and #2 break down. They're both a Lincoln Town car, or a Buick, or a Caprice Classic ... or whatever car that is that people two generations ahead of us drive. It's one of those big cars. But honestly, they have 3 matching ones. And one of them has the license plate "Winning" in case you ever seem them around town. I'm not sure if that's Bingo they're winning or Harrah's.

So the job opportunity ... she asked me if I needed some extra cash. She even told me that I looked like somebody who could succeed in this position. At this point, my adrenaline is really pumping as I may soon become someone who also drives a gigantic car. However, after considering my limited free time, I mention that I "may know of someone" in order to deflect the attention. This was not a good move.

After she mentioned that she only needed 30 minutes (which means 300 minutes) of my time to listen to her program, it was all downhill. I tried multiple times asking questions like, "Is it sales, or what kind of job is it?" The reply was always, "Well, I just need a pencil, paper, and 30 minutes of your time in order to show it to you." Now, don't get me wrong, this could be an excellent opportunity to have people hang up on you when you call them. So if you find me trying to hook you up with this lady, you'll know that this is a legitimate opportunity for an extra part-time job.

What is the moral to this story? The next time an old lady tries to hustle you into her pyramid scheme ... ask her if she bought those matching cars through this pyramid or from a regular job. If the money came from a regular job, then stick with your regular job. If the money came from the pyramid, then problem solved. You don't want matching cars, so why take the job.

Why not? I'll tell you why not!!!!!!

2008-08-04T21:54:00.002-05:00

Well ... apparently it's not time ... YET! I was reading Russ Resnik's book Creation to Completion, and he was discussing courage vs. discouragement. Both are contagious, so which one will we spread? It was a very timely word that I read two days before our Sunday event. Courage is facing the obstacles despite our fears and insecurities. So if we're battling fear of man now, or the insecurities of what people will say ... don't spread that discouragement! Spread courage! There's always another battle to demonstrate your courage. Flory and Cheryl are very excited about this Thursday and Friday, so let's stand up and fight again.

Why not here?

2008-08-03T01:01:00.005-05:00

Blogging wasn't a winter fad? Man, did I miss the boat. It seems people have been keeping their blogs updated, and I'm the only joker who didn't get the email. I did however read that the T-Blakes have solved a family feud, dating back to the early 80's, regarding the poop in the bathtub. See the comments section on Leah's blog.

So here's the story. It's 1am on the night before our big event at the Merriam Marketplace. As usual during any big event for KL, we have house guests. It hasn't been much of a distraction ... just classic that the timing was an exact match again.

I'm feeling pretty good about the plans so far. Tom's talk on "Did Jesus practice Judaism or Christianity" looks great. I have my outline put together, but it needs some polishing tomorrow. Jack managed to pick up the folding chairs about 10 minutes before they closed. That's right ... folding chairs. We realized there's no way everybody remembers to bring a lawn chair ... and that's if they even own them.

We've had 3 folks from our neighborhood say they are coming, plus 3 others who Lauren had spiritual conversations with this week. That may be 3 more spiritual conversations than we've had with anybody in the neighborhood, except Chad and Rachel.

The band practiced today. I'm actually feeling really good about the band. Sam has a good flow. In the words of David Ruis, he feels the rhythms of the earth.

Dr. Yang finally emailed me back. He's out of town now, but he had a good reason for being out of touch for awhile. Minister Hole won't be able to make it due to a commitment, and he let me know that he is officially retiring at the end of '08.

Overall, this is my feeling. Why not now? Why not Merriam? Why not?

The fear of God

2008-02-06T11:13:00.000-06:00

My wife emailed me a picture, with a subject of "the real you." So maybe this is how she pictures me in her mind when I'm not around.

What many of you may not know, is that we have our very own absentminded professor ... in house. In the great think tank of Kingdom Living, there are many days when the basement is not used for formal meetings, but for mystical times of divine revelation. "The real me" even has a distinct set of clothes he likes to wear for these encounters, and we have now captured one of these moments on still picture for the first time ever. No video is available. It may be a little fuzzy due to the nature of the event, but in a landmark decision we are publishing one of these as inside information, reserved exclusively for readers of this community blog.

On this particular occasion, a comprehensive revelation was given after a four year journey into the question ... "What is church?" There have obviously been moments of significant revelation along the way, but this day was truly unique. It was a day when the factual knowledge turned into revelation at the spirit level as to who we are and what we are doing. The years of waiting have paid off, and the baby has now been born. Hopefully we're good parents.

If you'd like to know more, you can join us at the regular meeting times. Oh yes, the long awaited picture ...

(click image to get a zoom-in of the moose slippers)

I'm back!

2008-01-21T22:06:00.001-06:00

Well, since one of the ten people who read this blog asked why it's been so long since I've posted ... I have to answer the cry for more.

Don't look now, but I think somebody new came to house church last week. And the week before that. And the week before that. We are officially in a radical growth season ... if they come back. :)

Speaking of expansion, the latest title I'm using for "the books" is Kingdom Expansion. It's a more all-encompassing term than Kingdom Law. I have all 900+ pages of the notes that Maasen has faithfully typed up, and they are all now organized into quasi-chapters. There are still more notes to come, but there are definitely enough to get started now. I am considering allocating some time this semester to writing the first, in a series of about 10, of these short books ... maybe 50-100 pages each.

And while we're talking about expansion, the number of pastors in our city that have committed to praying for the city of Merriam just doubled ... Brother Gillis told me he would join me once a week. Notice I called him Brother Gillis, as I'm now pretty sure that's what he goes by instead of Pastor Gillis as we've called him for over a year now.

In other news ... it's cold out.

Harrison and I played two fierce games of Risk this weekend. He even wanted to order a new game, similar to the old Crossbows and Catapults from my childhood. Good times. Elsewhere on the kid front, Noah can go from laying down to sitting up now. He can also go from laying down to standing up if he's in his crib with the bars to hang onto.

Finally, I've been trying to semi-monitor the Presidential campaigns so that I can understand a bit more. Primarily, I've realized that Chuck Norris is about to round-house somebody.

I learned that ...

2007-12-16T23:42:00.000-06:00

So the P-Blakes have been bunkered down for about 5 days now, with various flus being passed around the house. First Noah, with projectle vomiting. Then Lauren got it before Noah recovered, leaving yours truly as Mr. Mom caring for two sicklings. Now I'm just now recovering from a 12 hour vomit flut that turned into some kind of "no energy" scenario after that. I just laid in bed and slept a bunch. Well that was below average.

So what did I learn so that it wasn't a wasted experience? I'm glad you asked. I learned that you can fall behind and catch up during an illness. In 4 days of being out of commission, we're swamped to get ready for Christmas, while at the same time I was able to catch up on some soccer news.

I learned that I am NOT gifted at being a full-time mom. I remember laying down in bed once at around 4pm, and I realized it had been four hours straight of walking around the house taking care of my loved ones. I was exhausted. Then when I realized that was only a half-day's worth of work, my brain joined the exhaustion party just thinking about it. It's great to have a new level of respect and love for my wife who takes care of us every day. She is a wonderful mom, to be admired by all, using her gifts to raise him up to be a mighty warrior. Noah's even falling asleep relatively soon after we lay him down now.

I learned that if you sleep all day, you may end up being awake from 3am-8am. And THEN fall back asleep.

I learned that Brooks knows a lot about enzymes.

I learned that Tom can step up the plate even if I bail out on him and a church meeting at the last minute.

I learned that Eric will re-arrange his schedule at the last minute in order to fulfill a commitment that I made (which had nothing to do with Eric).

I re-learned how much better health is than sickness. But maybe the Lord felt I needed a reminder of how helpless and prideful I am. Isn't it amazing that He loves someone like me despite my flare-ups of arrogance. I need some revelation on how to love arrogant people.

I learned that Mark is wise to stay downstairs when there are this many germs on the main level.

I learned that Talkative Jim, with his brilliant home-owner ingenuity, used his leaf blower to clear snow off his driveway. Now my leaf blower is the cheap kind, but my leaf mower isn't! It's the strongest blower on the block, so I'm excited to try that next time. Just have to do it before anybody drives on it.

I learned that Tom shoveled my driveway on his own initiative. What a guy.

I learned that Harrison can shovel our entire driveway in under 20 minutes all by himself. He proved to be a good solo worker for a kid who does his best when others work alongside him.

I learned that the human body isn't designed to be in bed that many hours - it stiffens up in odd places.

I learned that Arthur Burk has more good teaching, and don't be surprised when you realize he's directing you towards ancient Jewish thought ... even if he doesn't realize it.

I learned that smelling the vomit in the toilet makes me want to vomit even more, so giving myself a courtesy flush after the largest upheavel of the session often helps relieve the gag reflux.

And finally, I learned that Lauren is much better at serving me while I'm sick than I am at serving her while she's sick. Add that to the list of things I need to die to self about.

So in sickness and in health, just remember ... a good spouse like Lauren, and friends like I have, makes life more enjoyable during both of those seasons.

Hmmmm

2007-11-27T22:13:00.000-06:00

Why do carrots either get really dry ... or really wet and slimy?

Why don't more people in my neighborhood utilize the ultra-efficient leaf removal system of blowing/mulching/sucking that limits my leaf bags to one per week plus one trash can?

Why is Noah so cute?

Why doesn't Noah take longer naps?

Why I say ... why?

Why don't more people like to read?

Why doesn't Eric grow a ZZ Top beard?

Why does Mark ever cut his hair when his afro looks so good?

These are the things I'm thinking about.

Neighborhood Junkies

2007-11-10T20:17:00.000-06:00

Mastin Street is a great place to live, especially this time of year. The leaves are changing colors, not too many leaves are falling, Team Merriam just swept the leaves off the street, and the smell of revival is in the air.

We like our little street. We find it hard not to look out the window when we hear loud noises. It may be Jim's daily project of blowing leaves for himself and the two widows' yards, or it could be the local fire truck that intentionally comes down our street in order to wave at their off duty fireman buddy Tonka Shawn three doors up. It may be Tom's muffler on the truck, or my hawg for that matter. It could be the sound of the saw coming from Del's work shop, or the new construction company using front loaders to make the patio for Smores (Tom's neighbor). It could be the bus at 3:20pm sharp on weekdays, or the A-1 trash man at 8am Wednesdays. (I've noticed that several more people have signed up for A-1 trash.)

And of course who can forget the sounds of the train, a signal to take 75th St instead of 67th if you're getting in the car - that coal train is long and slow. After school, the kids screaming outside is Robin, as she plays on the swing set that seems to be in a different location of their back yard all the time - not sure if that's safe! If it's a dog, Guppy's is the persistent, quieter bark ... while Guiness is the loud infrequent barker. The high-pitched "Guiness!" is Julie yelling at him to get back in his own yard, or to quit pooping in ours.

Anyhow, since I've mentioned several characters on our side of the tracks already, I'll introduce you to a few more. When they get saved, they'll feel even more like family ... so I thought you should at least know their names.

There's Airstream Gary, who used to typically have his huge Airstream (a silver bullet looking RV) parked in the front drive. Don't forget Tonka Shawn, who has a huge custom truck for shows in his drive, with Tonka written on the back. You can hardly take a walk without running into Army Ed. He likes to talk about semi-spiritual things now that he knows I'm in the ministry. Joy is the newest on the block, and she likes yardwork and having the grandkids over to play and spend the night.

Elmer (no adjective needed with a swiggin' name like that) has lived here since the beginning about 40 years ago - but he's moving to a semi-retirement village with his wife. Their moving truck was there today I think. Great deal on a house - just needs a little updating. Or Elmer's neighbor who foreclosed awhile back, but that house may need more than a little facelift. Down the road a bit is Heather, who teaches school ... but she doesn't want to have kids yet! Her husband must be an introvert, as he seems to sneak inside the house without looking at me even though I'm walking right past.

Cathy walks her dog every night, and sometimes she has a second dog with her ... which we think is because she helps house stray dogs or something. Harley Todd behind us may be moving, but he offered to fix my hawg anytime I needed help. And he likes to offer you a beer on the weekend. The other guy in the neighborhood who has a hawg, can't think of his name but he likes to wave when I'm on mine, is Lars' dad. Lars came down for Harrison's hot tub party last summer. Next to Harley Todd is Guiness Tom, co-owner of the famous pooper, and unfortunately he had a stroke recently. I'm pretty sure his daughter Julie stays home with him now instead of teaching school.

How could I forget the faithfulness of Mailman Tom. He likes to smile and offer a loud, "See you later!" If you were wondering who that strange guy walking next to Mailman Tom was the other day, it was USPS "quality control." I asked Mailman Tom if he was making sure he put the mail in the right slot, but he didn't think that was funny. Lance likes to sit on his back porch and listen to classic rock, and he helped me trim a tree once when I almost killed myself. Randy next door to me just used his new leaf vacuum to clear most of the leaves off my front yard. Tim likes to sit out back and have a smoke, while Brad likes to keep his Christmas lights up all year. Did you know Brad and Tim and their wives go out for dinner sometimes?

I like to take walks in our neighborhood instead of the trails, which is how I've accumulated a lot of my neighborhood junkie expertise. Brent is the 6 year old behind us that will talk your ear off, but his jokes are pretty good for a kid his age. Robin is in 1st grade, and she likes me to stop so she can see if Noah's asleep or not. Allen Troyer, former Merriam city councilman lives on my route, and he typically just gives a wave. And last but certainly not least is dear little old Lorine, the widow on the corner who rakes her leaves every day. She's got a lot of energy.

It's a good street ... you should check us out sometime.

The Doctor is In

2007-11-08T00:38:00.000-06:00

Susan and I met with Dr. Yang from the Korean Presbyterian church today, and after one hour of get to know ya stuff ... here's the drill. He is IN! He wants to show the Almolonga transformation video to his congregation, plus participate in the "Merriam Pastors Fellowship" that we're forming. He likes to preach on repentance, the key for transformation, even though it's not a popular message in his neck of the woods. Just wanted to share the faith bomb that we were blasted with today. Ground zero, baby!

We also invited the Doc to speak at KL, so mark your calendars for Nov 25. He was very honored that we asked him, and he wanted to make sure we did not feel obligated to pay him. His preaching/teaching style is "line-by-line" while including the historical and cultural context, so this should be a great fit!

And thanks to Leah for the hospitality of homemade chocolate chip cookies for the Doc. He was very thankful. WE'RE IN THIS TOGETHER!

The Salon

2007-10-30T17:03:00.000-05:00

Have you ever noticed that babies and old people don't have to comb their hair?

At age 33, it's getting difficult to remember back 25 years to make absolute statements that "I never [blank]." However, I don't ever recall having had my hairs cut (yes, all of them) in a salon. Although I'm not a drinker, it's more recent that I've been in a saloon than a salon. It's possible that while in college I ventured outside the more traditional barber shop and had my hair cut at a salon, but it seems I've blocked it out of my mind.

The red and white spinning cylinder in front of the barber shop is nice too - it helps us recoginze that Chop Tops is only a symbolic name. Otherwise, nobody's going inside of a place called Chop Tops ... does that mean your head? Or your scalp? Symbolism can be tricky for me.

And if I read magazines, I'd comment on how it's much better at the barber shop than the salon.

It's just not a natural feeling being there at all, even if I'm not the one having my hair cut. They like to ask you if you want your hair washed, or a manicure, or a pedicure. And it's hard to tell if they're trying to make me look gullible because that's such a stupid question ... or if they are trying to make money off of me.

You see, I endured YEARS of "Bobby" (not his real name to protect his livelihood) cutting my sideburns crooked in order to not have to change barbers. Bobby had even cut the New York Yankees logo into the side of my hair back in junior high, that is ... with the help of the feminine barber who worked the chair next to him. But I liked the barber shop. He would talk about the Chiefs or golf, and that felt normal. Something to create normality out of a situation where a man with scissors and razors stares at you and spins you around in circles for 30 minutes. Why the spinning chair anyway? I think it's to make you dizzy (I get dizzy easy) so that you're disoriented when he asks you if you like his work. (((Uhhhh, what?))) Yeah, it's short enough. How much do I owe you? See you later.

So after Bobby, I tried several barbers in Waco during college. They all stunk too, but since Bobby's version was a familiar stinch it was more comfortable. One barber in Waco only charged $4, and he cut hair one way ... short. He wasn't messing around with how you wanted it done, he just buzzed it pretty short and said you're through. I think he spun 4 people an hour through that chair. You had to go there at least once to get the experience, but only the guys who were really poor went a second time.

Most recently, I was using the "hair college" girls ... now that's an interesting crowd. But they only charged $6 I think. Now those were some bad haircuts too, even though their "teacher" came by and fixed it. Fixed is a relative term on a sliding scale that's been greased. But after two home haircuts that ended up looking like a cross between Dumb & Dumber and a mullet, the college girls skill was recognizable even though in its infancy.

So now I'm married which means I get input from Lauren. She picked out a style, which is a word that I was unfamiliar with having come out of the barber shop scene, from a picture in a magazine. You see, this just felt like Siberia to me, because you can't go up to Bobby and say, "Hey, see Larry Bird here in this Sports Illustrated that was on the table ... I want it just like that." He would have sat you down and cut your hair the exact same way he did every other visit and completely ignored the Larry Bird picture. He'd say, "How much do you want cut off?" I would reply, "About this much," with the hand gesture indicating 1 inch. Then he'd cut off about twice that to make sure he had it short enough the first time through in order to make his next appointment.

So we're at Raena's artsy salon. While there, I told Raena that although the dentist chair is the place of feeling uncomfortable for most people, it's the salon chair for me. Then she spun me sideways, my first ever sideways experience, so I couldn't see anything. She said this was to help me relax.

The music is a lot different at a salon too ... and the artwork ... and number of women ... and of course the conversation. We even had to drive quite a ways ... to the artistic part of the city. This was quite the ordeal. So you may be wondering after this long of a write-up about the results, especially after this many years of searching for a decent cut. Well, Raena convinced me to wait a week. That was expert advice, just like when she said it would feel a LOT different in the shower. I really didn't like it much at the salon, but it's literally growing on me.

So we've tried with mousse, without ... combing vs. moppy, part down the side vs. part down the middle, shower vs. no shower. My biggest concern at the salon was that it was too much of a "model" cut. But it seems to have settled into a hybrid mop/prep/gray hairs look. So, hey, it's not frosted look with a pony tail on my hawg, but it's a good cut. Shout out of thanks to Lauren, Raena, and to all my fans who are encouraging me during my insecure week.

Now Lauren did say that I could have a true John the Baptist look, but that I'd have to wait until the end times were shaking everything that can be shaken ... which I think means our pocket book when it's best to eat instead of get my hairs cut. She also said we could get a side-car.

Pet Pieves

2007-10-26T13:27:00.000-05:00

People walking their greyhound dogs. Don't those dogs like to run?

Or when you print something off the Internet and 90% of the time there's an extra page with about 2 lines of unnecessary "footer" on the wasted "page 3 of 3." Then you waste 5 seconds of your life wondering if you should put it back in the printer for re-use, or if your next print job will be important ... and then you've wasted all that ink on a bad piece of paper. Argh.

Or sitting down in the driver's seat, only to find that my wife's 5'3" frame is not consistent with my 6'1" frame. Easy way to injure your hip on the steering wheel as you sit down. Side note: I noticed that Leah's 5'2" frame was even more painful. I couldn't even wrap my arm around the steering wheel to reach the seat adjuster. I had to sit sideways and reach around the near side of the steering wheel, which is a good way to pull a side muscle.

Or home repairs ... any of them other than painting. I had to replace a light bulb the other day, but of course it was above the sink. So a chair was necessary, but not quite sufficient. Standing on the counter top was really the only solution. Except at 6'1" you can't stand striaght up, so I was slouched over. Yet moving closer to the light bulb was impossible, as a "decorative" board was blocking my access to the light. So I managed to stand on the 3 inch space of the sink between the basin and your stomach. After gaining my balance, I realized that said decorative board was blocking my view, and I would have to change this bad boy without seeing it. No problem, right? Then I realized that this light bulb cover had those nut/screw jobbies that hold the cover in place. Although they had slots for a flat head screw driver, this decorative board once again wreaked HAVOC on any possibility of a screwdriver fitting up in there. So I strong fingered them out, slowly since Samson owned my home previously and really made sure that bulb cover wouldn't fall out accidentally. After successfully avoiding usuing foul language, albeit complaining some, I finally got that cover off.

The next step was so graceful and fluid even Bob Vila would have admired my work. I unscrewed the light bulb and then climbed down. Perfection.

The next step was not so smooth. I re-installed the light cover, though only after much jostling with the cover, blinded by that "attractive" decorative board. After climbing down and having worked up a small sweat, which any home repair does even if it's winter time, I realized the final blow. I had forgotten to insert the new light bulb.

Why blog? Is it the comments?

2007-10-22T14:53:00.000-05:00

So I've been in the blogging world for a few weeks now as an experiment. It seems to be going okay ... but there need to be more comments. It may or may not be a vain thing, but the interaction is the key. Without comments, this is just an email that nobody replied to. Written feedback is no different than when someone nods or smiles when you're talking to them. Otherwise these blogs are just words blasted out into space. Even us quiet people who write blogs like a little acknowledgement that we're talking/writing.

Fellow bloggers of local fame have chimed in recently. Leah said, "Do we appreciate the comments because we like to know people are reading?" Yes ... as a matter of fact we do. If it weren't for the comments, I think my blog experiment would be over. It's not about me hoping to impact the world ... it's about knowing that I'm impacting the world!

Susan said, "Yeah, comments are definitely the best part about having a blog. It's not really about getting your two cents in, showing off your original humor, or even sending your deepest thoughts out to the wide world of the internet. . .it's all about the comments."

It doesn't take that long to post a comment. You've already read the article. It only takes 10 more seconds to type in an encouraging comment ... or only 30 seconds to think of something creative or funny to say.

So next time you access the world wide web with your personal computer with user friendly interface like Windows XP, just remember ... "it's all about the comments."

Back by Popular Demand!

2007-10-22T13:11:00.000-05:00

Wow, the fans are all over me this week. Desperate cries for new material, petitions for justice in regard to the slanted polling system ... what's next? Server crashing due to excessive traffic?

Newsflash ..................................... Maasen, Cassie, and Jacklynn will all be joining the blog community soon. Feel free to comment on why I'm the only guy in the blog sub-culture.

So yes we had a poll close this week, and that needs to be addressed. Although "Arrows of Hope" makes a logical argument for her innocence, the poll clearly shows otherwise. That's enough for me. If we need secondary evidence, we see that logic does not prevail in embarrassing situations. Emotions take over so that decisions made are quite random ... as evidenced by awkward behavior on first dates. I admit that Ruble/Brandy was the obvious choice, but that was without further reflection upon the complexities of the human soul. With the poll being closed now, it seems we can't change the evidence that SUSAN IS THE MYSTERY POOPER!!!

(Please vote at our new poll if to help resolve the details behind this case)

Pool Stories

2007-10-11T11:15:00.001-05:00

With my wife out of town, I have time for a second post this week. Plus, I have something that's "bloggable." Kudos to Tom/Leah for that word.

So Mark and I are talking about the Olympics, specifically how some events are quite boring. You know, any event that has judging instead of a "real" winner. Those judges from East Germany were soooo picky! Far too subjective based on emotions and bad pizza for lunch. After strolling down memory lane, we relived the day when Greg Louganis cracked his head on the diving board. Mmmmmmm, that'll leave a mark.

Now my pool memories are only from child hood. Sorry, Susan, but my adult pool stories don't consist of laying out (which I hate also because you get so hot!) but rather supervising Harrison. Typically it's me and the moms trying to keep our kids from swalling too much water.

But the topic came up with Mark regarding our childhood days at the pool ... specifically the diving board. Now after watching Greg's melon split open like a can of tomato sauce, as I child I really had no desire to get brave on the diving board or try out Rodney Dangerfield's Triple Lindy. I had enough red body parts after dives gone bad. So I never felt the need to try flips because of the visual and audio (have you ever heard a man's head hit a diving board?) memory of that one event.

So my creativity was often limited to - bum, bum, bum, boing, CAN OPENER! Come up for air, look at the lifeguard to see if I'm in trouble (the whistle may have blown when I was under water!), and then swim to the edge. Okay, so I was trying to splash the life guard with my can opener, thus the guilty conscience. But my cool points were never as high as pool guy who did a triple flip, double twist gaynor (is there a correct spelling of that word?) from the low dive. But hey, have you ever heard a man's head hit a diving board? So I'd mix in the cannonball, intentional belly flop, toothpick, "dive and touch the bottom" ... or an assortment of others with names not repeated publicly. I also never felt the need to do a handstand on the diving board, hold that position for ten seconds, and then fall into the water ... with no splash. Like it would have won me a free snack during the next adult swim?

A few other memories from the pool ... obviously the hot tub. ERRRRRR, kiddie pool as they called it. Then the week at Tomahawk pool when there was a mysterious brown substance at the bottom of the pool in the 3 foot section. No idea why that didn't get cleaned up sooner than a week. It was obviously dirt, right?

Then the day when I determined that I was definitely over 4 feet tall ... because when I stood RIGHT NEXT to the sign that said the water was four feet deep my head stuck out a bit.

Or the times when, while playing catch in the pool with the nerf ball (diving catches were the goal - as cool points went way up then) Jason would intentionally throw the nerf ball at one of the moms. I would then have to go get it and apologize for his "bad" throw. If you've ever seen a wet ball hit a woman in the face, they're not smiling afterwards.

So we weren't studying Talmud growing up, but they were good times.

Rookie on the Field

2007-10-09T23:58:00.000-05:00

Well I'm joining the ranks of the blog world. My trial run here may be an indicator of future posts ... maybe not. Basically, I'm quite fascinated by the fact that so many people are doing blogs, etc. these days. I'm guessing it will be like text messaging - it seems unappealing until you try it.

So I'm at the synagogue the other day, and Rabbi points out how many comedians are Jewish. Groucho Marx, Jerry Lewis, Rodney Dangerfield, Jerry Seinfeld, Adam Sandler, and CARROT TOP! So many others I've forgotten already. It's giving me hope that as I become more Jewish then I'll be funnier. I'm not sure why it's so appealing to be funny. Humor must originate in Hashem, yet humor seems to be left out in His Word. Instead we find irony ... like when Isaiah ran around naked for awhile. It's so unusual that nervous laughter seems to be the response. Also, I don't particularly care for the reference to Psalm 2 when people declare that He laughs ... as in humor. That's obviously a mocking laugh at wicked people.

Anyhow, it's autumn now which means lots of yard work. I don't mind because summer and winter and not times for being outside. So whether it's mowing in the spring or leaves in the fall ... I like getting back outside. I just finished tilling the dirt in a few sections of my yard to help with proper drainage away from the foundation of the house. Power tools are usually good times, plus Harrison was helping out. I was able to explain that we do our work well in order to glorify G-d, creating a place where He would like to live. He seemed to understand ... and he seemed to finish his work without getting distracted or complaining. Baruch Hashem! The other day he initiated a conversation about how happy he was with the way our relationship was going ... very sensitive for a 10 year old.

Noah is getting more fun to play with also. He laughs when you tickle him now, and he smiles almost any time you try to get him to. We're looking forward to raising him up as a mighty warrior. The other day I told him, "You have no idea how blessed you are to be born into this family." I really believe that. Sometimes when he's crying, I tell him, "It's really not that bad. You have a great life."

Finally, my latest discovery is that you have to replace sin with righteousness. Up until recently, I knew that confessing sin was the right first step. After that though, what does a righteous lifestyle look like? For some reason the tradition I was raised in never supplied enough clarity behind this. Yet the lifestyle we are learning at synagogue is defining reality in a way that is DIFFERENT ... yet makes sense. For example, somebody recently said that anybody can learn some answers and provide them to other people, but learning to ask questions is a true skill. Not only is this true, but I think it's part of living a righteous lifestyle. It's much more effective, and it's a lot more fun also. You have to really think before you speak, but it's a lot more fun because of the challenge. Then you get to watch them wrestle ... otherwise they just dismiss what you said as "someone's opinion."

Well that's all for now. Shalom.