Hi, I'm Tim, and I'm a Christmas music addict. (Hi, Tim.)
It all started when a friend of mine had a wedding in December, and used a lot of Christmas music in the ceremony, most from Mannheim Steamroller's first Christmas album. He also gave each of his groomsmen, including me, a copy of a Canadian Brass Christmas album. That was it. I was hooked. I could hardly walk through a mall at Christmas time without picking up one or two CDs.
Sometimes I ask myself, just how many versions of "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" does one guy need? But usually, I just add to the collection, and try not to think about the possibility of encountering a bad version of "The First Noel."
I've got some taste, though: I've never even been tempted to pick up any of the "Very Special Christmas" CDs, nor have I touched any Motown or hip-hop Christmas albums.
I do, however, have all of the aforementioned Mannheim Steamroller Christmas albums. And the GRP Christmas Collection, volumes 1-3. Harry Connick, Jr.'s "When My Heart Finds Christmas" is a great one. Chicago 25 has one of the few renditions of "The Little Drummer Boy" that I don't just hate. David Phelps, a man whose voice I covet, blows me away with "O Holy Night" on his "Joy, Joy" album. The King's Singers, Rockapella, The Gaither Vocal Band, Bryan Duncan, Larry Carlton, Manhattan Transfer, and even the Trans-Siberian Orchestr all have a place in my special case full of over 50 holiday CDs.
My favorite at the moment is a new one, by my buddy Ike Graul and his cohorts in Blue Line Max. They're an a cappella sextet out of Portland, OR, and they have a smooth sound. I love their arrangement of "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" and "O Holy Night." Just the bomb!
I know what you're saying. You're saying, "Tim, you've got to stop. You can't go on like this." But, hey, it's not a real problem. I can quit anytime I want. I just don't want to right now.
God rest ye, merry gentlefolks.
Thursday, December 09, 2004
Thursday, December 02, 2004
But for the need of the proper equipment....
I think I need an air compressor.
Not one of those portable, cigarette-lighter-powered tire inflator thingys... I've got one of those, and it doesn't cut it. Sure it's fine for tires, soccer balls, etc. It even has a flashlight built into it. Whee.
No, I need a real one, for using with air tools, like the noisy thingy they use at the tire changer places. Have you seen all the different tools you can attache to these things? Drills, saws, impact hammers, nailers, sanders, spray guns, die grinders,... it boggles the mind! Think of the possibilities! You could... nail stuff, and... saw stuff, and... grind dice! How does anyone ever live without these things?
Now, you may be saying, "Hey, Tim, what do you need one of those things for? You're not a mechanic, or a builder."
Well, sure, but don't you think that if I'd had one of these things, I could have been a mechanic, or builder, or... air-tool-using-tradesman-of-some-sort? I could be the best mechanic in the state, or a much-sought-after home builder, just me and my air compressor, and a truck full of every imaginable air tool there is!
But no, I'm just a computer geek, stay-at-home dad, and homeowner. Now I'll have to use the air compressor I need to get to blow the dust out of computers, inflate tires and soccer balls, clean out the gutters, dry laundry, dust the mantel, and startle the neighbors.
I only hope that being exposed to such tools will inspire my children to think about what the proper equipment can enable them to do with their lives.
Especially the part about startling the neighbors.
Not one of those portable, cigarette-lighter-powered tire inflator thingys... I've got one of those, and it doesn't cut it. Sure it's fine for tires, soccer balls, etc. It even has a flashlight built into it. Whee.
No, I need a real one, for using with air tools, like the noisy thingy they use at the tire changer places. Have you seen all the different tools you can attache to these things? Drills, saws, impact hammers, nailers, sanders, spray guns, die grinders,... it boggles the mind! Think of the possibilities! You could... nail stuff, and... saw stuff, and... grind dice! How does anyone ever live without these things?
Now, you may be saying, "Hey, Tim, what do you need one of those things for? You're not a mechanic, or a builder."
Well, sure, but don't you think that if I'd had one of these things, I could have been a mechanic, or builder, or... air-tool-using-tradesman-of-some-sort? I could be the best mechanic in the state, or a much-sought-after home builder, just me and my air compressor, and a truck full of every imaginable air tool there is!
But no, I'm just a computer geek, stay-at-home dad, and homeowner. Now I'll have to use the air compressor I need to get to blow the dust out of computers, inflate tires and soccer balls, clean out the gutters, dry laundry, dust the mantel, and startle the neighbors.
I only hope that being exposed to such tools will inspire my children to think about what the proper equipment can enable them to do with their lives.
Especially the part about startling the neighbors.
Wednesday, December 01, 2004
Oh, yeah....
Forgot to put this on the list: A Firefox t-shirt; XXL in Navy.
I know, it seems very crass to put my Christmas wishlist on my blog for all the millions of people who read it across the planet to see. It's not as if I expect anyone to get any of this for me. It's more an issue of this whole blogging-for-the-purpose-of-being-transparent thing. I figure the folks who really care who I am (and I just know you call care, don't you?) will gain more insight into who I am by finding out what kind of things I might like to have.
Or what I will buy in January if I don't get from someone else for Christmas, as it may be.
I know, it seems very crass to put my Christmas wishlist on my blog for all the millions of people who read it across the planet to see. It's not as if I expect anyone to get any of this for me. It's more an issue of this whole blogging-for-the-purpose-of-being-transparent thing. I figure the folks who really care who I am (and I just know you call care, don't you?) will gain more insight into who I am by finding out what kind of things I might like to have.
Or what I will buy in January if I don't get from someone else for Christmas, as it may be.
Friday, November 26, 2004
Holidays
I'm glad for the holidays to arrive. I love the extra time and attention we give to family, and the fun of seeing the kids with our relatives. We had thanksgiving with Nina's family, at her sister Suzy's. The Snowbabies were in fine form, keeping us all enthralled with their cooing and how they take everything in with their wide eyes. Nina and I tried out my mom's recipe for stuffing, and found a crock pot recipe for green bean casserole. The food was great, the time with family was great, and I even didn't mind losing at Train.
Now begins the Christmas season. I've already been out shopping this morning -- go figure. I woke up real early, and felt like going out in the early crowds, for some odd reason. The lines were a little long, but everyone was civil -- except for one guy who was too important to wait 10 minutes or so, and left swearing about it. I'm sure Santa's got a lump of coal with his name on it.
For some reason, I really enjoy being out in a busy mall during the height of Christmas shopping season. I enjoy it less if I have to find a gift for someone, to be honest. It's more fun to just wander through, watching all the people, hearing the Christmas Muzak, and just feeling superior for having done the important shopping early. And online.
But let's face it: The only shopping I really have to do is a present for Nina. Once I get that done, I'm good. Nina gets the ideas for gifts for everyone else, and though I may be the one to actually go buy them, she's done all the heavy lifting for the season. I don't have to wander aimlessly in the mall, wondering what I'm going to get parents, siblings, and kids. It's good to be part of an "and" (as in "Tim and Nina" on the gift tag).
Now, you may be wondering (and I'm sure you all are), "What does Tim want for Christmas?" I'm glad you asked. I present, for your edification, my Christmas wish list for 2004:
• An orchestral recording of Mussorgsky's "Pictures At An Exhibition."
• The Isao Tomita electronic recording of Mussorgsky's "Pictures At An Exhibition." (A favorite of mine from my Dad's collection when I was a kid.)
• A new toaster oven. (Yeah, I know it's a "shovel," but it would actually be nice to have!)
• The Star Wars Trilogy on DVD (widescreen edition)
• Any of the Hillsong worship CDs.
• One of those cool Braun shavers with the cleaner in the charging base. I might start shaving more than once a week!
• An iPod. Hey, a geek can dream, can't he?
Of course, I will be just as happy to get the usual shirts, socks, gag gifts, and the cards and letters from all of my friends and family.
Now I'm going to break out my case of Christmas CDs, and start my annual overdose of holiday music.
Now begins the Christmas season. I've already been out shopping this morning -- go figure. I woke up real early, and felt like going out in the early crowds, for some odd reason. The lines were a little long, but everyone was civil -- except for one guy who was too important to wait 10 minutes or so, and left swearing about it. I'm sure Santa's got a lump of coal with his name on it.
For some reason, I really enjoy being out in a busy mall during the height of Christmas shopping season. I enjoy it less if I have to find a gift for someone, to be honest. It's more fun to just wander through, watching all the people, hearing the Christmas Muzak, and just feeling superior for having done the important shopping early. And online.
But let's face it: The only shopping I really have to do is a present for Nina. Once I get that done, I'm good. Nina gets the ideas for gifts for everyone else, and though I may be the one to actually go buy them, she's done all the heavy lifting for the season. I don't have to wander aimlessly in the mall, wondering what I'm going to get parents, siblings, and kids. It's good to be part of an "and" (as in "Tim and Nina" on the gift tag).
Now, you may be wondering (and I'm sure you all are), "What does Tim want for Christmas?" I'm glad you asked. I present, for your edification, my Christmas wish list for 2004:
• An orchestral recording of Mussorgsky's "Pictures At An Exhibition."
• The Isao Tomita electronic recording of Mussorgsky's "Pictures At An Exhibition." (A favorite of mine from my Dad's collection when I was a kid.)
• A new toaster oven. (Yeah, I know it's a "shovel," but it would actually be nice to have!)
• The Star Wars Trilogy on DVD (widescreen edition)
• Any of the Hillsong worship CDs.
• One of those cool Braun shavers with the cleaner in the charging base. I might start shaving more than once a week!
• An iPod. Hey, a geek can dream, can't he?
Of course, I will be just as happy to get the usual shirts, socks, gag gifts, and the cards and letters from all of my friends and family.
Now I'm going to break out my case of Christmas CDs, and start my annual overdose of holiday music.
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
The little blog that wasn't
I had a whole blog entry planned out the other evening. It was cool, it was fun, it was pithy. Unfortunately, it came to me as I was glumphing, and in the middle of it, I lost it.
Glumphing. You heard me. (Okay, you read me.) It's a word we've had in our family for about 25 years, and have shared along the way. When my older brother and I were in our teens, we were often asked by our mother to, "Go take the dry clothes out of the dryer, put the clothes that are in the washer into the dryer, and turn it on." Often, I tell you. It was the same litany, every time.
My older brother, Paul, in his ever-so-thoughtful way, realized that the amount of time our dear mother spent saying this could be used for more productive things, such as not giving us other stuff to do. So, one day, he said, "Hey, Mom, instead of saying, 'Go take the dry clothes out of the dryer, put the clothes that are in the washer into the dryer, and turn it on,' why don't you just say something simple, like.... 'glumph.'"
And so it stuck. (Not the part about not giving us other stuff to do, darn it.) We've used the word ever since, enduring the looks of tolerant concern from others, and loving the "us" feeling it gave us to use it.
We're not alone, apparently. A gent named Paul Dickson has collected over 700 of these so-called "family words" and written a book about them. I don't know if "glumph" is in it, but it ought to be. When you buy your copy, write it in the flyleaf.
As for that other, forgotten post... I'm going to go see if it fell into the laundry while I was glumphing.
Glumphing. You heard me. (Okay, you read me.) It's a word we've had in our family for about 25 years, and have shared along the way. When my older brother and I were in our teens, we were often asked by our mother to, "Go take the dry clothes out of the dryer, put the clothes that are in the washer into the dryer, and turn it on." Often, I tell you. It was the same litany, every time.
My older brother, Paul, in his ever-so-thoughtful way, realized that the amount of time our dear mother spent saying this could be used for more productive things, such as not giving us other stuff to do. So, one day, he said, "Hey, Mom, instead of saying, 'Go take the dry clothes out of the dryer, put the clothes that are in the washer into the dryer, and turn it on,' why don't you just say something simple, like.... 'glumph.'"
And so it stuck. (Not the part about not giving us other stuff to do, darn it.) We've used the word ever since, enduring the looks of tolerant concern from others, and loving the "us" feeling it gave us to use it.
We're not alone, apparently. A gent named Paul Dickson has collected over 700 of these so-called "family words" and written a book about them. I don't know if "glumph" is in it, but it ought to be. When you buy your copy, write it in the flyleaf.
As for that other, forgotten post... I'm going to go see if it fell into the laundry while I was glumphing.
Thursday, October 21, 2004
A lesson not learned.
When our son was a baby, I remember reading about the various stages of development as an infant becomes aware of their surroundings. One of the milestones is the concept of "object permanence." This is when a child realizes that just because their pacifier is not in view (rolled under the chair, covered up by their blankie, hidden in Daddy's pocket, etc.), it still exists.
My children failed to learn this lesson completely.
I have discovered this when getting them ready to leave the house for school in the morning, and have asked them to find any object -- their shoes, their library book, their jacket. They wander into a room, gaze blankly around for a moment, then say, "It's not here." After doing this in every room, they announce that they can't find it... it must be in the van. I go into the room in which the object is most likely to be, and start turning over the top layer or so of civilization, and soon find the object, usually under clothing.
Somehow, my wonderful children fail to realize that things can be under other things (unless, of course, it's one of them, hiding from me under their blankets, blowing their cover by giggling). What a blessing that must be, to think that your room is not THAT messy, simply because you only see the top layer of crud, and believe that there are no layers underneath!
If I followed that reasoning on my desk, I'd soon not be able to see my computer monitor. Not long after, I'd be killed in an avalanche of paper and junk.
On the plus side, the rescue workers would find my keys for me.
My children failed to learn this lesson completely.
I have discovered this when getting them ready to leave the house for school in the morning, and have asked them to find any object -- their shoes, their library book, their jacket. They wander into a room, gaze blankly around for a moment, then say, "It's not here." After doing this in every room, they announce that they can't find it... it must be in the van. I go into the room in which the object is most likely to be, and start turning over the top layer or so of civilization, and soon find the object, usually under clothing.
Somehow, my wonderful children fail to realize that things can be under other things (unless, of course, it's one of them, hiding from me under their blankets, blowing their cover by giggling). What a blessing that must be, to think that your room is not THAT messy, simply because you only see the top layer of crud, and believe that there are no layers underneath!
If I followed that reasoning on my desk, I'd soon not be able to see my computer monitor. Not long after, I'd be killed in an avalanche of paper and junk.
On the plus side, the rescue workers would find my keys for me.
Monday, October 04, 2004
Macaroni and Cheese
"If you're going to be good at something, make it something that elementary-aged school children like." You can quote me.
I'm good at macaroni and cheese. My kids say that I'm the best macaroni and cheese maker in the whole world. Granted, they haven't traveled far enough to know that for sure, but it's still something I take a certain amount of pride in. My kids like something I do.
What's my secret? It's simple. I use real butter, real milk, and follow the instructions on the Kraft Macaroni and Cheese box to the letter. Granted, we lost our 1/4-cup measure some time ago, but I can estimate the right amount in either the 1/3-cup or 1/2 cup measure (whichever is clean) pretty accurately. When the four-tablespoon mark on the wrapper around the stick of butter is somewhere off center, I can get the right amount every time -- even if one end of the stick has been used to butter toast or corn. I've got it down.
My kids say I'm the best dad in the world, too. Again, they haven't seen every dad in the world. If they did, I'm sure they'd see many that are better, who find it easier than I do to figure out the instructions for that job. If it was printed on a blue box, maybe I could find it. I'm guessing, though, that those instructions are harder because the end product is far more complex. I want to raise kids that can handle tricky situations, like the pot of busyness boiling over and making a mess in their lives. Or improvising when their lives run out of milk or butter at the wrong time. I want to raise kids who can show their own kids just how to stir things without spilling, so that all the flavors of life combine to make something good.
Okay, no great surprise that I stretch a food allegory a little too far, I guess. But my point is that I'd be a better dad if I would stick to the instructions a little better. I need to do a better job of reading my Bible and getting to know the Jesus that it reveals, and to be more like Him. Then I'll find it easier to raise good cooks.
I mean kids.
I'm good at macaroni and cheese. My kids say that I'm the best macaroni and cheese maker in the whole world. Granted, they haven't traveled far enough to know that for sure, but it's still something I take a certain amount of pride in. My kids like something I do.
What's my secret? It's simple. I use real butter, real milk, and follow the instructions on the Kraft Macaroni and Cheese box to the letter. Granted, we lost our 1/4-cup measure some time ago, but I can estimate the right amount in either the 1/3-cup or 1/2 cup measure (whichever is clean) pretty accurately. When the four-tablespoon mark on the wrapper around the stick of butter is somewhere off center, I can get the right amount every time -- even if one end of the stick has been used to butter toast or corn. I've got it down.
My kids say I'm the best dad in the world, too. Again, they haven't seen every dad in the world. If they did, I'm sure they'd see many that are better, who find it easier than I do to figure out the instructions for that job. If it was printed on a blue box, maybe I could find it. I'm guessing, though, that those instructions are harder because the end product is far more complex. I want to raise kids that can handle tricky situations, like the pot of busyness boiling over and making a mess in their lives. Or improvising when their lives run out of milk or butter at the wrong time. I want to raise kids who can show their own kids just how to stir things without spilling, so that all the flavors of life combine to make something good.
Okay, no great surprise that I stretch a food allegory a little too far, I guess. But my point is that I'd be a better dad if I would stick to the instructions a little better. I need to do a better job of reading my Bible and getting to know the Jesus that it reveals, and to be more like Him. Then I'll find it easier to raise good cooks.
I mean kids.
Saturday, October 02, 2004
ZOE Conference, Day 3
Okay, I haven't done such a great job of daily trip reports. I was so tired when I got back to my hotel last night that I just couldn't think well enough to write anything. So, I'll just blather some impressions and descriptions.
Brian McLaren speaks the truth of God. His talks this weekend have given me more hope for being able to change my understanding and pattern of being a Christian in a post-Christian world. I'm going to have to read his books soon, and start pushing my elders to do the same. I ordered the CDs of his five lessons, and will force them upon as many people as I can in the coming months.
Image: Judy Thomas, in the afterglow of Saturday night's worship, sitting and looking up at her son, Brandon, as he was being greeted and blessed by so many people who he has been a blessing to. Judy's face was filled with love and... pride? No, more like thankfulness. I got to meet this dear sister (though she knew my name from comments on various blogs, I think), and was touched by her graciousness and the way she radiates God's love.
James Wood posted on WorshipForum that his father-in-law had been killed in an auto accident recently. I found out today that I knew this man, and he and his wife had blessed my wife and I with their leadership in a marriage retreat we attended several years ago. James' mother-in-law was here, and I was so blessed to see her, though still grieving, so filled with the hope that comes from God.
Image: In the exercise room at the hotel where I'm staying, there is a phone on the wall.... about a foot off the floor. I suppose that it is for when you've hurt yourself exercising, and can't do more than crawl.
Image: Owen Burgess and I singing old hymns in twangy bluegrass style, while his daughter, Rebecca, writhes in anguish.
Clarissa Cox is about the sweetest person you could ever hope to meet! I feel like we've been friends for a long time, though we've only met this week, after having shared discussions on WorshipForum and blogs. I got a little more chance to talk with her tonight, and it's great to have another sister! Her husband, Rob, fairly radiates fun, and her kids are adorable!
I was struck by the ministry of several people that don't get much attention at these things.
- Eric Noah-Wilson, the executive director of the ZOE Group (i.e. he handles all the office stuff) works the table selling ZOE resources and other materials, and manages the logistics of the whole thing. He probably never gets to hear much of the worship or speaking. But he keeps giving. I praise God for his ministry in this way.
- The ZOE Group board members. These folks pray and plan all year for this conference and the other activities of the ministry, including New Wineskins Magazine. What they do is a blessing to a LOT of people, whether or not they know it. It's one of those things into which you can put a lot of time and effort, and not really know what the result is, other than the big events, the printed materials, etc. But what those things do for many of us who are responsible for worship at our churches is phenomenal.
- The spouses of worship ministers. They are married to dynamic, busy people who thrive on doing what they do. Sometimes, their spouses get ignored. But they are vital parts of the ministries of the men and women who direct worship week in, week out.
Things I love about visiting Nashville:
- Sweet Tea
- The prevalence of Dr. Pepper, my carbonated drink of choice
- Rolling hills for miles and miles.
- Great Christian music on the radio, including contemporary Christian, praise and worship, and Southern Gospel.
- Catfish, fried okra, and turnip greens. That's hard to find in California.
Things that bug me about visiting Nashville:
- Smoking in restaurants.
- No good Mexican food.
Obviously, the pros outweigh the cons!
Too tired to continue. Goodnight.
Brian McLaren speaks the truth of God. His talks this weekend have given me more hope for being able to change my understanding and pattern of being a Christian in a post-Christian world. I'm going to have to read his books soon, and start pushing my elders to do the same. I ordered the CDs of his five lessons, and will force them upon as many people as I can in the coming months.
Image: Judy Thomas, in the afterglow of Saturday night's worship, sitting and looking up at her son, Brandon, as he was being greeted and blessed by so many people who he has been a blessing to. Judy's face was filled with love and... pride? No, more like thankfulness. I got to meet this dear sister (though she knew my name from comments on various blogs, I think), and was touched by her graciousness and the way she radiates God's love.
James Wood posted on WorshipForum that his father-in-law had been killed in an auto accident recently. I found out today that I knew this man, and he and his wife had blessed my wife and I with their leadership in a marriage retreat we attended several years ago. James' mother-in-law was here, and I was so blessed to see her, though still grieving, so filled with the hope that comes from God.
Image: In the exercise room at the hotel where I'm staying, there is a phone on the wall.... about a foot off the floor. I suppose that it is for when you've hurt yourself exercising, and can't do more than crawl.
Image: Owen Burgess and I singing old hymns in twangy bluegrass style, while his daughter, Rebecca, writhes in anguish.
Clarissa Cox is about the sweetest person you could ever hope to meet! I feel like we've been friends for a long time, though we've only met this week, after having shared discussions on WorshipForum and blogs. I got a little more chance to talk with her tonight, and it's great to have another sister! Her husband, Rob, fairly radiates fun, and her kids are adorable!
I was struck by the ministry of several people that don't get much attention at these things.
- Eric Noah-Wilson, the executive director of the ZOE Group (i.e. he handles all the office stuff) works the table selling ZOE resources and other materials, and manages the logistics of the whole thing. He probably never gets to hear much of the worship or speaking. But he keeps giving. I praise God for his ministry in this way.
- The ZOE Group board members. These folks pray and plan all year for this conference and the other activities of the ministry, including New Wineskins Magazine. What they do is a blessing to a LOT of people, whether or not they know it. It's one of those things into which you can put a lot of time and effort, and not really know what the result is, other than the big events, the printed materials, etc. But what those things do for many of us who are responsible for worship at our churches is phenomenal.
- The spouses of worship ministers. They are married to dynamic, busy people who thrive on doing what they do. Sometimes, their spouses get ignored. But they are vital parts of the ministries of the men and women who direct worship week in, week out.
Things I love about visiting Nashville:
- Sweet Tea
- The prevalence of Dr. Pepper, my carbonated drink of choice
- Rolling hills for miles and miles.
- Great Christian music on the radio, including contemporary Christian, praise and worship, and Southern Gospel.
- Catfish, fried okra, and turnip greens. That's hard to find in California.
Things that bug me about visiting Nashville:
- Smoking in restaurants.
- No good Mexican food.
Obviously, the pros outweigh the cons!
Too tired to continue. Goodnight.
Thursday, September 30, 2004
ZOE Conference, Day 1
Actually, I'll start on Day 0, yesterday. Got up, got the kids ready and Nina and I took them to school. Then we went and had breakfast at Baker's Square before she took me to the airport. My first flight, from Oakland to Ontario, was very easy; only about 40 people on the flight, and I got a window seat on the over-wing exit row, with lots of leg room. It was my first time to see or ride on a 737-700, with the upturned wingtips. Nice plane. Second flight was a little more full, but I was in the "A" group, and headed to the back of the plane to get a row by myself. Snoozed a little, read a little, listened to music a little, and the flight went by reasonably quickly.
Got into Nashville, got my luggage, and went to the rental car counter. The young lady who gave me my key said that she'd already met four other folks coming to the conference!
Checked into the hotel, and got in touch with Owen Burgess to meet at Cracker Barrel for dinner. We had a good chat and great food. I stopped by the Harris Teeter store to get a few groceries, and headed back to the hotel. I called home and talked to Nina and the kids, and turned in as early as I could manage -- but didn't sleep so great.
I woke up this morning early, and decided to get out and about. I went driving down Franklin Pike to the town of Franklin, and looked around a little. One thing I love about this area, south of Nashville, is the history. Granted, it's not as aged as most of Europe, but there are lots of signs noting Civil War sites, buildings with dates that go back almost two hundred years. Not as much of that in my part of California.
Took a swing through the Cool Springs Galleria, and did a little shopping. Found a really colorful shirt to add to my wardrobe, and had a light lunch at Chik-Fil-A -- another thing I don't see much in California.
Then I headed back to my room to change, and went up to the Woodmont Hills church for the conference.
Ken Young and Hallal led worship first, and we heard from Brian McLaren, who challenged us to be sensitive to listen to people who are looking for God, instead of trying to talk them into our way of thinking about God. Instead of teaching people to be "churched," we need to let the Holy Spirit move them to become faithful, by listening and encouraging them to keep seeking through God's word.
In the Worship Leader's breakout track, Kip Long and a group of teens led us in praise, and we then heard from the spouses of two worship ministers about some of the challenges they face, and the blessings that have come through their spouses' ministries. In our small group, we reflected on some of the challenging things that Brian McLaren had said.
The dinner break took me and several folks I've gotten to know through WorshipForum.com to Cracker Barrel (where else?) for more great food, and more great conversation.
The evening worship was led by Randy Gill and one of the praise teams from Woodmont. Then we heard more of the continuing story from Brian McLaren.
This is a very bland report, I realize. The best part of the day has been hearing McLaren speak. He reaffirmed some things I think I knew intuitively, but haven't been able to articulate. He didn't give me the answers, but he's given me better questions. What do churches need to do to prepare for the next generation? How do we reach out to post-modern people from a construct that is very modern in its patterns and attitudes? How can we spur on their faith, and help them grown into a vital group of believers, when they don't want to "do church" the way we have for the past few generations? My guess is that churches as we know them will begin to decline rapidly in the next ten years or so, and something new will arise. Then the generation after that will probably build something a little different.
I have enjoyed meeting people face-to-face that I have known from the blog community and from WorshipForum. This is a great 'family reunion' for me.
Now to sleep.... I hope.
Got into Nashville, got my luggage, and went to the rental car counter. The young lady who gave me my key said that she'd already met four other folks coming to the conference!
Checked into the hotel, and got in touch with Owen Burgess to meet at Cracker Barrel for dinner. We had a good chat and great food. I stopped by the Harris Teeter store to get a few groceries, and headed back to the hotel. I called home and talked to Nina and the kids, and turned in as early as I could manage -- but didn't sleep so great.
I woke up this morning early, and decided to get out and about. I went driving down Franklin Pike to the town of Franklin, and looked around a little. One thing I love about this area, south of Nashville, is the history. Granted, it's not as aged as most of Europe, but there are lots of signs noting Civil War sites, buildings with dates that go back almost two hundred years. Not as much of that in my part of California.
Took a swing through the Cool Springs Galleria, and did a little shopping. Found a really colorful shirt to add to my wardrobe, and had a light lunch at Chik-Fil-A -- another thing I don't see much in California.
Then I headed back to my room to change, and went up to the Woodmont Hills church for the conference.
Ken Young and Hallal led worship first, and we heard from Brian McLaren, who challenged us to be sensitive to listen to people who are looking for God, instead of trying to talk them into our way of thinking about God. Instead of teaching people to be "churched," we need to let the Holy Spirit move them to become faithful, by listening and encouraging them to keep seeking through God's word.
In the Worship Leader's breakout track, Kip Long and a group of teens led us in praise, and we then heard from the spouses of two worship ministers about some of the challenges they face, and the blessings that have come through their spouses' ministries. In our small group, we reflected on some of the challenging things that Brian McLaren had said.
The dinner break took me and several folks I've gotten to know through WorshipForum.com to Cracker Barrel (where else?) for more great food, and more great conversation.
The evening worship was led by Randy Gill and one of the praise teams from Woodmont. Then we heard more of the continuing story from Brian McLaren.
This is a very bland report, I realize. The best part of the day has been hearing McLaren speak. He reaffirmed some things I think I knew intuitively, but haven't been able to articulate. He didn't give me the answers, but he's given me better questions. What do churches need to do to prepare for the next generation? How do we reach out to post-modern people from a construct that is very modern in its patterns and attitudes? How can we spur on their faith, and help them grown into a vital group of believers, when they don't want to "do church" the way we have for the past few generations? My guess is that churches as we know them will begin to decline rapidly in the next ten years or so, and something new will arise. Then the generation after that will probably build something a little different.
I have enjoyed meeting people face-to-face that I have known from the blog community and from WorshipForum. This is a great 'family reunion' for me.
Now to sleep.... I hope.
Saturday, September 25, 2004
Ummm....
Yes, it's been a whole month since posting. Not that I haven't tried; I had written copious amounts one day (two or three sentences) when my computer decided to be naughty, and it all went away. Between that and not having any ideas about what to write, I haven't really tried that much.
I've had a bunch of mental dust bunnies that have traipsed through my brain. Stuff that comes to mind, and won't go away until I bother someone else with them. For example:
"And now, a man who puts the 'goober' into 'gubernatorial, ....".
Now if stuff like that isn't an incentive to NOT write, I don't know what is.
I've been much busier lately with computer support calls. I've got a little ad in a small local paper, and it's apparently getting noticed a lot. I've been out to clean up spyware, hookup DSL connections, setup new computers, upgrade some hardware, and to generally pontificate about what people ought to be doing with their computers. It's made me feel like I might be able to grow this side consulting bit into a viable job. I've come up with a flyer to advertise, and now I just need to find places that'll let me post it. A local coffee establishement comes to mind, as does the library and the adult school.
Speaking of the adult school, I've started another couple of classes there. Last year, I took a class on Macromedia Dreamweaver MX, a great web editor. Now I'm taking a class on Macromedia Flash MX, so I can learn to do cool animations on websites (though I have no artistic ability), and also a class on Web Design with Databases, in which I'm learning to use PHP and MySQL. The latter class is far more up my alley; programming and data structure design fits in my head a lot better than visual design.
Taking the classes is fun, if only for the opportunity to kibbutz with the other geeks (and some normal people) in the class. It's making me wonder if I couldn't find some opportunity to teach in such an environment. I think I'd prefer a junior college, where the people in the class might be a little more intent on learning something. A computer class at an adult school will generally have a broad range of people in classes, from those who say, "I want to learn this tool so I can get a promotion at work." to "I'm in this class to learn how to make a website for my kids' scout troop" to "I needed an excuse to get out of the house, now that Friends is off the air, and it's just too depressing to watch TV that night."
One thing that's frustrating about this particular school is that the computer systems are ancient, and the network needs some real help. I could fix the network for them, if they'd let me, but the school district's IT department is a union shop, and they're pretty protective of their turf. Seems odd for a school district in California to not accept any help they can get from volunteers, don't'cha think?
Nina is trudging along in her job, despite personality conflicts, micromanagement by administration, and a general sense that she'd rather be at home more. She's a trooper.
John is doing well in third grade. Part of his homework every day is to do some writing. At first he was struggling for things to write about (gee, that sounds familiar), but now he's got an ongoing story about an old west sheriff dealing with an ongoing series of bad guys. He's a very creative kid.
Natalie says she doesn't like kindergarten.... she LOVES it! She doesn't have homework, most days, so we try to get her working on some of the basics, while John is doing his homework. She's also practicing her R's -- she hasn't learned to say that letter very well yet. It may have something to do with her missing front teeth, I suppose. She's still working on it, with gusto sometimes. "Wwwwwwwrwwwwwrwww-ice! Wwwwwwwrwwwwwrwww-ocket!" So cute.
Next week, I'll be attending the ZOE Group conference in Nashville. I'm looking forward to being there again, even though Nina won't be with me this year. We've made a lot of friends there over the past few years, and have really gotten a lot out of the conference. This year, Brian McLaren will be speaking at the leadership conference. I've not had a chance to read his books, but I'm hoping to get a chance to do so soon. Mike Cope and Jeff Walling (Hey, Jeff! Where's YOUR blog?) will be keynoting the general conference. And of course, Brandon, Randy, Jeff Nelson, and others will lead worship times. I'm looking forward to seeing lots of the folks I've known online from WorshipForum and the blogging community, like Clarissa, Matt, Val, and others whose writings have been a real blessing.
Well, the day begins; we're going to my wife's company picnic today, so it's time to find the sunscreen and hats. Ah, fall in California!
I've had a bunch of mental dust bunnies that have traipsed through my brain. Stuff that comes to mind, and won't go away until I bother someone else with them. For example:
"And now, a man who puts the 'goober' into 'gubernatorial, ...."
Now if stuff like that isn't an incentive to NOT write, I don't know what is.
I've been much busier lately with computer support calls. I've got a little ad in a small local paper, and it's apparently getting noticed a lot. I've been out to clean up spyware, hookup DSL connections, setup new computers, upgrade some hardware, and to generally pontificate about what people ought to be doing with their computers. It's made me feel like I might be able to grow this side consulting bit into a viable job. I've come up with a flyer to advertise, and now I just need to find places that'll let me post it. A local coffee establishement comes to mind, as does the library and the adult school.
Speaking of the adult school, I've started another couple of classes there. Last year, I took a class on Macromedia Dreamweaver MX, a great web editor. Now I'm taking a class on Macromedia Flash MX, so I can learn to do cool animations on websites (though I have no artistic ability), and also a class on Web Design with Databases, in which I'm learning to use PHP and MySQL. The latter class is far more up my alley; programming and data structure design fits in my head a lot better than visual design.
Taking the classes is fun, if only for the opportunity to kibbutz with the other geeks (and some normal people) in the class. It's making me wonder if I couldn't find some opportunity to teach in such an environment. I think I'd prefer a junior college, where the people in the class might be a little more intent on learning something. A computer class at an adult school will generally have a broad range of people in classes, from those who say, "I want to learn this tool so I can get a promotion at work." to "I'm in this class to learn how to make a website for my kids' scout troop" to "I needed an excuse to get out of the house, now that Friends is off the air, and it's just too depressing to watch TV that night."
One thing that's frustrating about this particular school is that the computer systems are ancient, and the network needs some real help. I could fix the network for them, if they'd let me, but the school district's IT department is a union shop, and they're pretty protective of their turf. Seems odd for a school district in California to not accept any help they can get from volunteers, don't'cha think?
Nina is trudging along in her job, despite personality conflicts, micromanagement by administration, and a general sense that she'd rather be at home more. She's a trooper.
John is doing well in third grade. Part of his homework every day is to do some writing. At first he was struggling for things to write about (gee, that sounds familiar), but now he's got an ongoing story about an old west sheriff dealing with an ongoing series of bad guys. He's a very creative kid.
Natalie says she doesn't like kindergarten.... she LOVES it! She doesn't have homework, most days, so we try to get her working on some of the basics, while John is doing his homework. She's also practicing her R's -- she hasn't learned to say that letter very well yet. It may have something to do with her missing front teeth, I suppose. She's still working on it, with gusto sometimes. "Wwwwwwwrwwwwwrwww-ice! Wwwwwwwrwwwwwrwww-ocket!" So cute.
Next week, I'll be attending the ZOE Group conference in Nashville. I'm looking forward to being there again, even though Nina won't be with me this year. We've made a lot of friends there over the past few years, and have really gotten a lot out of the conference. This year, Brian McLaren will be speaking at the leadership conference. I've not had a chance to read his books, but I'm hoping to get a chance to do so soon. Mike Cope and Jeff Walling (Hey, Jeff! Where's YOUR blog?) will be keynoting the general conference. And of course, Brandon, Randy, Jeff Nelson, and others will lead worship times. I'm looking forward to seeing lots of the folks I've known online from WorshipForum and the blogging community, like Clarissa, Matt, Val, and others whose writings have been a real blessing.
Well, the day begins; we're going to my wife's company picnic today, so it's time to find the sunscreen and hats. Ah, fall in California!
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
Sand, surf, sun, and thrills.
Yesterday I took my kids to the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, along with some other folks from church. We played on the beach for a couple of hours, then got cleaned up to play on the Boardwalk. Here are a few images from the day:
- Natalie covered in wet sand over most of her body, with a biiiiiig smile on her face!
- John with a rifle from the shooting gallery... scary, very scary.
- Natalie bubbling with excitement for our first ride of the day.
- John and his buddy, Seth, laughing together.
- Natalie driving the "Space Race" bumper car -- very well, I might add!
- John laughing evilly as he crashed his bumper car into me multiple times. (He learned it from me, of course!)
- Natalie dragging me to the front car on the "Sea Dragon" roller coaster.
- John on every spinning, whirling, round-in-a-circle ride on the Boardwalk. Makes me dizzy thinking about it!
- Natalie snuggling up to me as we rode the ferris wheel together.
- John with chili on his face after a really gooey chili dog.
- Natalie with cotton candy all over her fingers and face.
- My buddy, Woody Square, ducking his head and closing his eyes as he and I rode the Giant Dipper roller coaster. I was whooping and hollering with my hands in the air, and he was trying to duck and cover!
My favorite moment of the day: While Natalie was eating her cotton candy, there was an adorable little girl -- maybe a year old -- staring longingly. She was so cute! She was looking up at this big (to her) girl with a big bag of cotton candy, watching with her mouth watering, licking her lips, just mesmerized by it. As her mother called her to move on with the rest of their family, the little darling sighed a great sigh, and walked away, still looking at Natalie.
Summer is winding down. School starts on Monday, and being on a routine will be good for the kids, and probably for me. But the sunny days of cotton candy and funnel cakes, birthday parties, trips to the Zoo, beach play in San Diego and Santa Cruz, rides at the Boardwalk and Marine World, and the four of us hanging out in the backyard, will all be a big part of the glue that holds our family close together.
I am blessed.
- Natalie covered in wet sand over most of her body, with a biiiiiig smile on her face!
- John with a rifle from the shooting gallery... scary, very scary.
- Natalie bubbling with excitement for our first ride of the day.
- John and his buddy, Seth, laughing together.
- Natalie driving the "Space Race" bumper car -- very well, I might add!
- John laughing evilly as he crashed his bumper car into me multiple times. (He learned it from me, of course!)
- Natalie dragging me to the front car on the "Sea Dragon" roller coaster.
- John on every spinning, whirling, round-in-a-circle ride on the Boardwalk. Makes me dizzy thinking about it!
- Natalie snuggling up to me as we rode the ferris wheel together.
- John with chili on his face after a really gooey chili dog.
- Natalie with cotton candy all over her fingers and face.
- My buddy, Woody Square, ducking his head and closing his eyes as he and I rode the Giant Dipper roller coaster. I was whooping and hollering with my hands in the air, and he was trying to duck and cover!
My favorite moment of the day: While Natalie was eating her cotton candy, there was an adorable little girl -- maybe a year old -- staring longingly. She was so cute! She was looking up at this big (to her) girl with a big bag of cotton candy, watching with her mouth watering, licking her lips, just mesmerized by it. As her mother called her to move on with the rest of their family, the little darling sighed a great sigh, and walked away, still looking at Natalie.
Summer is winding down. School starts on Monday, and being on a routine will be good for the kids, and probably for me. But the sunny days of cotton candy and funnel cakes, birthday parties, trips to the Zoo, beach play in San Diego and Santa Cruz, rides at the Boardwalk and Marine World, and the four of us hanging out in the backyard, will all be a big part of the glue that holds our family close together.
I am blessed.
Monday, August 23, 2004
Curmudgeonry
My sister-in-law just had twins on Saturday! We are all very excited for Suzy and her husband, Brian, since they have wanted kids for so long, and now they have two little bundles of joy! And they are completely adorable.
Whenever babies are born, one of the main topics of conversation over them is who they resemble. "Oh, look, she has your eyes." "She gets her nose from her granddad." "He sure does look like his dad." Blah, blah, blah.... Let's face it, you see what you want to see. Most babies look some thing more like a cross between Winston Churchill, Yoda, and an iguana. Sure, they're cute little iguanas, but they haven't grown into their skin yet! (Note: I generally don't mention that in front of the grandmothers of the new babies. They usually are pretty good at hiding the bodies of people who say disparaging things about their grandkids.)But babies do have a beauty unique among humanity. Their tiny fingers, their small voices, their amazing little faces... usually, they're cute enough to keep!
Of course, this makes us reminisce about when our own kids were born. John, our first, was reluctant to make his appearance. He was getting rather large, so the doctor strongly suggested inducing labor. The first day, it didn't go very far. Nina had contractions all day, but not enough to really get things going. They said, "Go home, get some rest, and call us in the morning." Well, we didn't wake up until nearly noon the next day, and then called, and they said, "Come in tomorrow morning." So the next day, we got up bright and early and got down to the hospital, started the process, and after several hours, a couple of scary moments, and absolutely no death threats (my wife is a saint!), John finally made his appearance -- he came out with his eyes open, trying to figure out what was so good about the outside world that we would make him leave his nice, safe, warm womb.
Eight years later, he still hates being away from his mother.
Natalie, on the other hand, was ready to make an appearance. Nina went into labor on a Friday evening, and after a long night of walking around, warm showers, and not even an angry glance that made me wish for a death threat, Natalie tumbled out on Saturday morning. Yes, "tumbled." The midwife who delivered her had to practically catch her as she did a little flip and twist as she came out! Then the doctor who checked her out had a little bit of difficulty getting her to breathe. I was holding my breath, myself, until finally, nearly a minute after making a dramatic entrance, our little drama queen registered her first remark of disdain for the treatment she was receiving.
Five years later, she still think the universe revolves around her. I'm not sure it doesn't, myself, at this point.
Next week, Natalie starts kindergarten, and John starts third grade. Nina will surely have a tear in her eye, as her baby goes off to school, and our son launches into new territory. She's such a mommy.
I'll ponder the meaning of this new stage over a quiet cup of coffee, alone in the house for a few hours each morning. Letting 'em grow up this far may actually end up paying off!
Now, back to the neices. I'm very much looking forward to being an uncle to these two little darlings. The job of an uncle, for those of you who don't know, is to be the odd duck that makes the parents look normal. When going to meet them for the first time, I made sure I was wearing not only a Hawaiian-print shirt, but one with hula girls on it. It will be my job later on to teach them the correct nonsense words, how to blow raspberries, and to overrreact even more than their father will to the presence of young suitors, but not by being threatening or intimidating. The uncles are to be embarrassing. "Wanna see their baby pictures? How about their first pimples? I've got video of them taking a bath when they were four!!" Then, later on, when they're more experience in dealing with me, they'll learn to say, "Oh, that's just Uncle Tim.... he's harmless."
Being an uncle is a challenge. But I take on this challenge willingly, and with great enthusiasm.
Whenever babies are born, one of the main topics of conversation over them is who they resemble. "Oh, look, she has your eyes." "She gets her nose from her granddad." "He sure does look like his dad." Blah, blah, blah.... Let's face it, you see what you want to see. Most babies look some thing more like a cross between Winston Churchill, Yoda, and an iguana. Sure, they're cute little iguanas, but they haven't grown into their skin yet! (Note: I generally don't mention that in front of the grandmothers of the new babies. They usually are pretty good at hiding the bodies of people who say disparaging things about their grandkids.)But babies do have a beauty unique among humanity. Their tiny fingers, their small voices, their amazing little faces... usually, they're cute enough to keep!
Of course, this makes us reminisce about when our own kids were born. John, our first, was reluctant to make his appearance. He was getting rather large, so the doctor strongly suggested inducing labor. The first day, it didn't go very far. Nina had contractions all day, but not enough to really get things going. They said, "Go home, get some rest, and call us in the morning." Well, we didn't wake up until nearly noon the next day, and then called, and they said, "Come in tomorrow morning." So the next day, we got up bright and early and got down to the hospital, started the process, and after several hours, a couple of scary moments, and absolutely no death threats (my wife is a saint!), John finally made his appearance -- he came out with his eyes open, trying to figure out what was so good about the outside world that we would make him leave his nice, safe, warm womb.
Eight years later, he still hates being away from his mother.
Natalie, on the other hand, was ready to make an appearance. Nina went into labor on a Friday evening, and after a long night of walking around, warm showers, and not even an angry glance that made me wish for a death threat, Natalie tumbled out on Saturday morning. Yes, "tumbled." The midwife who delivered her had to practically catch her as she did a little flip and twist as she came out! Then the doctor who checked her out had a little bit of difficulty getting her to breathe. I was holding my breath, myself, until finally, nearly a minute after making a dramatic entrance, our little drama queen registered her first remark of disdain for the treatment she was receiving.
Five years later, she still think the universe revolves around her. I'm not sure it doesn't, myself, at this point.
Next week, Natalie starts kindergarten, and John starts third grade. Nina will surely have a tear in her eye, as her baby goes off to school, and our son launches into new territory. She's such a mommy.
I'll ponder the meaning of this new stage over a quiet cup of coffee, alone in the house for a few hours each morning.
Now, back to the neices. I'm very much looking forward to being an uncle to these two little darlings. The job of an uncle, for those of you who don't know, is to be the odd duck that makes the parents look normal. When going to meet them for the first time, I made sure I was wearing not only a Hawaiian-print shirt, but one with hula girls on it. It will be my job later on to teach them the correct nonsense words, how to blow raspberries, and to overrreact even more than their father will to the presence of young suitors, but not by being threatening or intimidating. The uncles are to be embarrassing. "Wanna see their baby pictures? How about their first pimples? I've got video of them taking a bath when they were four!!" Then, later on, when they're more experience in dealing with me, they'll learn to say, "Oh, that's just Uncle Tim.... he's harmless."
Being an uncle is a challenge. But I take on this challenge willingly, and with great enthusiasm.
Wednesday, August 04, 2004
Channelling June Cleaver
Today I woke up early, while my wife was getting ready for work. Having had a particularly bad day yesterday, I was pleased to wake without a headache, without any grouchiness, and without any ache in my lower back. So I got up, heated up some water to make my wife some tea, made her bacon and eggs, sat with her as she ate, kissed her goodbye as she left, and got a load of laundry in. In a few minutes, I'll be getting the kids fed as I unload the dishwasher and do a little tidying up.
I feel so domestic.
Later on, I'll be taking my daughter to Tot Time, and my son and I will be painting the new baseboards and crown molding we're putting up in our living room and dining room. Then, after getting the girl back from her class, we'll have lunch, do a second coat of paint, and work on cleaning up their rooms. This weekend, we're having their birthday party (he's 8 this coming Sunday, she just turned 5 this past Saturday), so we've got a lot of cleaning to do inside and out.
Is there any wonder I'm not blogging that much?
But tomorrow, I get a little break from my domesticated life -- LinuxWorld Expo! (Woo-Hoo!) I get to go over to San Francisco's Moscone Center for a computer show, and hang out with my best friend, John Haffner and a bunch of other geeks. It'll be a nice change from the housecleaning, and I'll come back with a bunch of demo CD-ROMs, pens, product literature, and all kinds of ideas for projects to do on my web server and the one at church.
With any luck, I'll get to one or two before the next round of home improvement starts!
I feel so domestic.
Later on, I'll be taking my daughter to Tot Time, and my son and I will be painting the new baseboards and crown molding we're putting up in our living room and dining room. Then, after getting the girl back from her class, we'll have lunch, do a second coat of paint, and work on cleaning up their rooms. This weekend, we're having their birthday party (he's 8 this coming Sunday, she just turned 5 this past Saturday), so we've got a lot of cleaning to do inside and out.
Is there any wonder I'm not blogging that much?
But tomorrow, I get a little break from my domesticated life -- LinuxWorld Expo! (Woo-Hoo!) I get to go over to San Francisco's Moscone Center for a computer show, and hang out with my best friend, John Haffner and a bunch of other geeks. It'll be a nice change from the housecleaning, and I'll come back with a bunch of demo CD-ROMs, pens, product literature, and all kinds of ideas for projects to do on my web server and the one at church.
With any luck, I'll get to one or two before the next round of home improvement starts!
Wednesday, July 28, 2004
Private things made public
This is along the lines of Brandon Scott Thomas' recent rant about cel phone etiquette. He says it well.
Last night, my family went to a baseball game (A's against the Mariners, if you want to know), and while spending way too much time standing line for pizza and garlic fries, I discovered something: Not only do people think that talking on a cel phone seem to believe that the phone somehow shields them from being overheard, so does standing in line at a concession stand.
While waiting 25 minutes for pizza (and if I hadn't been getting it for my lovely daughter, I'd have skipped it!), I stood behind two brothers with their significant others, younger folks than I, as the two brothers discussed their relationship with, and the shortcomings of, their estranged father. Included in the conversation was a discussion of each of their relative drunkenness at the moment, the bad habits of their father, some stupid things they'd done in their relationships with their father and each other, and other embarassing details that I'd not have mentioned in front of complete strangers.
While waiting 45 minutes for garlic fries (and if they hadn't been garlic fries, I'd have skipped it!), two women whom I can only describe as "common-sense challenged" discussed the effects of hairstyles on how much attention -- and how much affection, to put it mildly -- they would get when meeting complete strangers in social settings (i.e. getting picked up by guys in bars). Also discussed were the relative merits and faults of several of their coworkers, including their appreciation for the appearance of some of the males in question, and their disdain for the success of one of the females at getting the attention of said males.
I wanted to shout, "Do you people realize that you sound really, really dumb talking like this in front of other people? Talk about the weather, your investment portfolio, technical aspects of your favorite hobby (cars, knitting, rock-climbing, whatever), or anything but personal details of your lives that reflect poorly on you!"
But I didn't. I was busy smelling the garlic, and keeping my 7-year-old son (8 in a few days) from having to hear the more salacious details, and keeping him entertained while standing in line for over an hour.
I think the A's won, but I missed most of the game.
Last night, my family went to a baseball game (A's against the Mariners, if you want to know), and while spending way too much time standing line for pizza and garlic fries, I discovered something: Not only do people think that talking on a cel phone seem to believe that the phone somehow shields them from being overheard, so does standing in line at a concession stand.
While waiting 25 minutes for pizza (and if I hadn't been getting it for my lovely daughter, I'd have skipped it!), I stood behind two brothers with their significant others, younger folks than I, as the two brothers discussed their relationship with, and the shortcomings of, their estranged father. Included in the conversation was a discussion of each of their relative drunkenness at the moment, the bad habits of their father, some stupid things they'd done in their relationships with their father and each other, and other embarassing details that I'd not have mentioned in front of complete strangers.
While waiting 45 minutes for garlic fries (and if they hadn't been garlic fries, I'd have skipped it!), two women whom I can only describe as "common-sense challenged" discussed the effects of hairstyles on how much attention -- and how much affection, to put it mildly -- they would get when meeting complete strangers in social settings (i.e. getting picked up by guys in bars). Also discussed were the relative merits and faults of several of their coworkers, including their appreciation for the appearance of some of the males in question, and their disdain for the success of one of the females at getting the attention of said males.
I wanted to shout, "Do you people realize that you sound really, really dumb talking like this in front of other people? Talk about the weather, your investment portfolio, technical aspects of your favorite hobby (cars, knitting, rock-climbing, whatever), or anything but personal details of your lives that reflect poorly on you!"
But I didn't. I was busy smelling the garlic, and keeping my 7-year-old son (8 in a few days) from having to hear the more salacious details, and keeping him entertained while standing in line for over an hour.
I think the A's won, but I missed most of the game.
Saturday, July 24, 2004
On vacation
Has it really been three weeks since I've posted? Yikes! I've not been overly busy, but there has been a real loud silence between my ears most days.
We are on a short vacation right now. We left home Monday afternoon and drove to San Diego, where my parents live with my grandmother Charlene Watson. She's a great lady, and we love to be here in her home. Now that Mom and Dad are here, too, it's an even greater treat to be here.
Granddad "Bud" Watson built this house... rather, he put it together. It had been part of a government building somewhere in town, and he had it moved to this lot in Bay Park, and made it into a small house for him, his wife, and their two young daughters. That was in the late '40s. They made some additions over the years, with a master bedroom and bathroom, larger kitchen, and a "prophet's chamber" on the patio with its own bathroom. With only a few breaks, my grandmother has lived here ever since.
Granddad died 7 years ago, and he is missed, but he's also very much present in this house. The living room has held so many people through the years, in large and small numbers. In this house, so many have found wise counsel, tender compassion, and a love strong enough to tell even the most difficult truths. In the adjacent dining room, so many wonderful meals have been shared with family, friends, and people in need. In the kitchen, the table has known more games of spades, forty-two, and Scrabble than most homes in America! The bedrooms have heard so many bedtime stories and prayers of my mother and aunt, my brothers and I and our cousins, and now of my own children and my neice. The "prophet's chamber" on the patio has hosted many young men looking for work as preachers, people on the move, and visiting friends. The yard has been the scene of so many playtimes, you couldn't count all the games played.
This house is full of love. It's so wonderful to see my own kids playing here as I did. There are so many objects in the house that I can remember from my childhood: the cookie jar, which is always filled whenever a grandchild comes to visit; the unique lamps in the living room -- one of which I broke part of years ago, but it is still in use; the secretary desk in my grandmother's room; the clock my mother made for my grandparents nearly 30 years ago;... There are so many memories in this place and in these objects.
My granparents passed on their legacy of faith to their daughters, and that has been passed on to their children. My grandmother worries that we haven't kept the faith -- not everone does church the way she approves of, and some even attend with other denominations. But she still loves us, and loves to have us here, loves to beat us at Scrabble, and play silly games with the kids. She and my grandfather showed us how to love our families. I pray that I have learned that lesson well enough for my kids to be able to pass it on to their kids.
We are on a short vacation right now. We left home Monday afternoon and drove to San Diego, where my parents live with my grandmother Charlene Watson. She's a great lady, and we love to be here in her home. Now that Mom and Dad are here, too, it's an even greater treat to be here.
Granddad "Bud" Watson built this house... rather, he put it together. It had been part of a government building somewhere in town, and he had it moved to this lot in Bay Park, and made it into a small house for him, his wife, and their two young daughters. That was in the late '40s. They made some additions over the years, with a master bedroom and bathroom, larger kitchen, and a "prophet's chamber" on the patio with its own bathroom. With only a few breaks, my grandmother has lived here ever since.
Granddad died 7 years ago, and he is missed, but he's also very much present in this house. The living room has held so many people through the years, in large and small numbers. In this house, so many have found wise counsel, tender compassion, and a love strong enough to tell even the most difficult truths. In the adjacent dining room, so many wonderful meals have been shared with family, friends, and people in need. In the kitchen, the table has known more games of spades, forty-two, and Scrabble than most homes in America! The bedrooms have heard so many bedtime stories and prayers of my mother and aunt, my brothers and I and our cousins, and now of my own children and my neice. The "prophet's chamber" on the patio has hosted many young men looking for work as preachers, people on the move, and visiting friends. The yard has been the scene of so many playtimes, you couldn't count all the games played.
This house is full of love. It's so wonderful to see my own kids playing here as I did. There are so many objects in the house that I can remember from my childhood: the cookie jar, which is always filled whenever a grandchild comes to visit; the unique lamps in the living room -- one of which I broke part of years ago, but it is still in use; the secretary desk in my grandmother's room; the clock my mother made for my grandparents nearly 30 years ago;... There are so many memories in this place and in these objects.
My granparents passed on their legacy of faith to their daughters, and that has been passed on to their children. My grandmother worries that we haven't kept the faith -- not everone does church the way she approves of, and some even attend with other denominations. But she still loves us, and loves to have us here, loves to beat us at Scrabble, and play silly games with the kids. She and my grandfather showed us how to love our families. I pray that I have learned that lesson well enough for my kids to be able to pass it on to their kids.
Saturday, July 03, 2004
Forming manageable addictions
It seems to be the nature of humanity, I think, to become addicted to something. For some, it's mind-altering substances, for others, it's mind-numbing acctivities (e.g. soap operas or video games), and for others, it's fashion and style. For me, it's caffeine. And the Internet. And science fiction. And music. And Hawaiian shirts.
I think it's the job of every parent to help their children avoid addictions that are harmful. Teach them the dangers of drugs and bad sitcoms. Show them how to be reliant on God, not on other people's opinions of what's trendy or cool or "phat." Get them hooked on good stuff, like good music (classical, '80s stadium rock, and bluegrass, for example), good science fiction (the Star Trek franchise shows, Star Wars, and Stargate SG-1), and veggies (if I have to tell you which ones of these, you need to visit the produce section of your local grocer and ask for samples).
Addict 'em to something that won't kill 'em or rot their brains.
In that interest, I'd like to propose to all those who run coffee establishments the following: The Training Mocha (TM) series. It starts with a kid's hot chocolate with a half-shot of decaf coffee, then graduates up by adding incremental amounts of caffeinated coffee. By the time they're in high school, they're up to full strength.
I'm just doing my part to help make the world a better place. You're welcome.
I think it's the job of every parent to help their children avoid addictions that are harmful. Teach them the dangers of drugs and bad sitcoms. Show them how to be reliant on God, not on other people's opinions of what's trendy or cool or "phat." Get them hooked on good stuff, like good music (classical, '80s stadium rock, and bluegrass, for example), good science fiction (the Star Trek franchise shows, Star Wars, and Stargate SG-1), and veggies (if I have to tell you which ones of these, you need to visit the produce section of your local grocer and ask for samples).
Addict 'em to something that won't kill 'em or rot their brains.
In that interest, I'd like to propose to all those who run coffee establishments the following: The Training Mocha (TM) series. It starts with a kid's hot chocolate with a half-shot of decaf coffee, then graduates up by adding incremental amounts of caffeinated coffee. By the time they're in high school, they're up to full strength.
I'm just doing my part to help make the world a better place. You're welcome.
Friday, July 02, 2004
Funerals
This weekend, we'll be singing at the funeral of a gentleman who's been at our church for years. He was a very thoughtful man, and great encourager to the praise team. He never liked using anything but the King James bible, but he never insisted others do the same.
I'm always a bit torn when singing at funerals. Part of me wants to sing sedate, hopeful songs, to respect the feelings of the family. Another part of me wants to sing enthusiastic, victorious songs, to celebrate that one of our brothers or sisters has completed their race! At the request of the widow, though, we'll be singing some of these upbeat songs, including one in which we use vocal percussion. It will be a good thing, I think.
Oh, yes... she also requested that we sing "The Lord's Prayer," the arrangement that gave me all the nerves last week. Sheesh... can't a guy get a break?!!!
I'm always a bit torn when singing at funerals. Part of me wants to sing sedate, hopeful songs, to respect the feelings of the family. Another part of me wants to sing enthusiastic, victorious songs, to celebrate that one of our brothers or sisters has completed their race! At the request of the widow, though, we'll be singing some of these upbeat songs, including one in which we use vocal percussion. It will be a good thing, I think.
Oh, yes... she also requested that we sing "The Lord's Prayer," the arrangement that gave me all the nerves last week. Sheesh... can't a guy get a break?!!!
Monday, June 28, 2004
Settled down
Well, the song went just fine. There were a few little imperfections, and I'd love to have a chance to do it again, when the praise team is more familiar with it, so we can put more feeling and energy into it. But all in all, it went well.
The strange thing for me was the nerves about it. I'm not used to that; I usually am pretty well composed about such things, but yesterday I was almost jumpy -- and with much less caffeine than usual! My wife and members of our praise team were surprised to see me nervous, too.
Nothing else to say today, just wanted to note that I survived the bout of nerves, and even managed to come away without any emotional scars.
The strange thing for me was the nerves about it. I'm not used to that; I usually am pretty well composed about such things, but yesterday I was almost jumpy -- and with much less caffeine than usual! My wife and members of our praise team were surprised to see me nervous, too.
Nothing else to say today, just wanted to note that I survived the bout of nerves, and even managed to come away without any emotional scars.
Sunday, June 27, 2004
Nerves...
I'm a little nervous this morning, and I don't like it.
Later on this morning, I'll be leading our praise team at church, and we'll be singing an arrangement of "The Lord's Prayer" which I put together. At our rehearsal on Friday night, it was a bit... tenuous. We'll go over it again this morning, but I'm afraid I've written something out that is not very singable. So I'm nervous it'll sound bad.
Now that sounds normal. I, however, am not the kind of person to be nervous about such things. I don't know how to process worry, so I generally don't. This morning, though, I'm nervous about it. I can't get the song out of my head, nor can I keep from trying to re-arrange it mentally, so that it'll be easier for the praise team to sing. I want to re-do the ending to make it more interesting, more moving.
But that's not the kind of thing you want to do on a Sunday morning, just before singing it.
Lord, the song is for you. Receive our praise, even if it sounds bad.
Later on this morning, I'll be leading our praise team at church, and we'll be singing an arrangement of "The Lord's Prayer" which I put together. At our rehearsal on Friday night, it was a bit... tenuous. We'll go over it again this morning, but I'm afraid I've written something out that is not very singable. So I'm nervous it'll sound bad.
Now that sounds normal. I, however, am not the kind of person to be nervous about such things. I don't know how to process worry, so I generally don't. This morning, though, I'm nervous about it. I can't get the song out of my head, nor can I keep from trying to re-arrange it mentally, so that it'll be easier for the praise team to sing. I want to re-do the ending to make it more interesting, more moving.
But that's not the kind of thing you want to do on a Sunday morning, just before singing it.
Lord, the song is for you. Receive our praise, even if it sounds bad.
Sunday, June 13, 2004
She got me again!
Eight days after my 30th birthday, my family was getting together at our church building. We had a few folks in from out of town, and my wife's relatives were joining us, so having everyone at our little apartment behind my mother-in-law's house wasn't possible. As we drove up to the building, Nina said, "I need you to close your eyes, because I've got a little surprise for you." Good thing she was driving. I closed my eyes, like a good little husband, and she parked, and escorted me into our fellowship hall, where about 60 people shouted "Surprise!" She had invited a horde of friends to throw me a surprise party. People I worked with, people I had known for years from various places, lots of church folks... it was a wonderful time!
Yesterday, two days after my 40th birthday, we were driving to our church building. Nina was driving again -- I had a little bit of a headache. We were going (I had been led to believe) to a shared birthday get-together for me, our minister, and another guy at our church. We've been doing this for the past three or four years. As we got off the freeway, Nina said, "Okay, the deal is that you guys aren't supposed to see the decorations outside until you see the decorations inside, so could you close your eyes?"
WARNING! WARNING! --sirens going off in my head --flashing lights
Several little things from the past little while suddenly began to add up.
So, once again, to a shout of, "SURPRISE!" I walked into a room filled with friends from all over, former coworkers, and family. Though I had just moments before realized that a surprise was imminent, seeing who was there was a great, fun surprise.
There was lots of teasing about how old I'm getting (especially from those who are older than me), great food from our favorite Italian restaurant, and the noise of conversation and laughter. It was great! The best gift was a binder with birthday wishes and notes from many of my friends (that's what the note from Brandon was for). Some were short and sweet, others were longer and very emotional, and some were just silly! It's the best gift I've ever received.
As I told the assembled throng yesterday, I expect that Nina will do this again for my 50th birthday, and my 60th... but I'll be on to her by the time I turn 70!
Yesterday, two days after my 40th birthday, we were driving to our church building. Nina was driving again -- I had a little bit of a headache. We were going (I had been led to believe) to a shared birthday get-together for me, our minister, and another guy at our church. We've been doing this for the past three or four years. As we got off the freeway, Nina said, "Okay, the deal is that you guys aren't supposed to see the decorations outside until you see the decorations inside, so could you close your eyes?"
WARNING! WARNING! --sirens going off in my head --flashing lights
Several little things from the past little while suddenly began to add up.
- Nina took the kids with her to run errands earlier in the day -- that's a dangerous thing, considering how squirrely they can be sometimes.
- She had kept me busy making cookies for the party, and working around the house.
- She got out the video of to 30th birthday party the other night, and we were all watching it. She commented, "It would be good to get together with all our friends again."
- She had been making phone calls behind closed doors.
- A letter had shown up at church a few weeks back, addressed to Nina, in an envelope from the church where Brandon Scott Thomas ministers. Thinking it had something to do with the ZOE worship conference, or some other event, I opened it to find a nice birthday wish from Brandon. I had told him at the Pepperdine Lectures that I was sneaking up on 40 years old, and I thought it was just a thoughtful note from a friend, who didn't know exactly when my birthday was. He and Nina both covered this one up pretty well.
So, once again, to a shout of, "SURPRISE!" I walked into a room filled with friends from all over, former coworkers, and family. Though I had just moments before realized that a surprise was imminent, seeing who was there was a great, fun surprise.
There was lots of teasing about how old I'm getting (especially from those who are older than me), great food from our favorite Italian restaurant, and the noise of conversation and laughter. It was great! The best gift was a binder with birthday wishes and notes from many of my friends (that's what the note from Brandon was for). Some were short and sweet, others were longer and very emotional, and some were just silly! It's the best gift I've ever received.
As I told the assembled throng yesterday, I expect that Nina will do this again for my 50th birthday, and my 60th... but I'll be on to her by the time I turn 70!
Saturday, June 12, 2004
Here's another one...
Natalie woke up today as John was in the bath. He heard her voice, and called out, "Natalie, I'm taking a bath!"
Natalie replied, "I know. I heard you swoosheling."
(Not sure of the spelling on swoosheling; I couldn't find it on dictionary.com.)
Natalie replied, "I know. I heard you swoosheling."
(Not sure of the spelling on swoosheling; I couldn't find it on dictionary.com.)
Friday, June 11, 2004
My Adorable Daughter
Okay, here's a "my kid is cuter than your kid" story.
Quite often, I don't shave most of the week (being a stay-at-home dad has its advantages), usually cleaning up in time for Sunday mornings. My daughter Natalie, who will be five at the end of July, came in to where I was laying down a little while ago, taking a break. She snuggled up close, and said, "Daddy, you and Mommy keep me warm!" Then she turned to kiss my cheek, and said, "OW!" because of my whiskers.
She said, "Daddy, those whiskers are your kiss protection!"
TOO CUTE!
Quite often, I don't shave most of the week (being a stay-at-home dad has its advantages), usually cleaning up in time for Sunday mornings. My daughter Natalie, who will be five at the end of July, came in to where I was laying down a little while ago, taking a break. She snuggled up close, and said, "Daddy, you and Mommy keep me warm!" Then she turned to kiss my cheek, and said, "OW!" because of my whiskers.
She said, "Daddy, those whiskers are your kiss protection!"
TOO CUTE!
Thursday, June 10, 2004
On being 40 years old
Today is my 40th birthday. In some respects, that's hard to grasp. I look back on my life, and it doesn't seem that long. But then again, I guess it feels exactly that long, because that's how long it's been. I pretty much live each day as it comes (which is a polite way of saying that I'm a lousy planner), so I don't spend a lot of time mulling over the events of my life.
I've actually got a pretty poor memory for events and conversations in my life, but a decent memory of facts and concepts that I've learned. In a way, my life seems like a blur of images, impressions, and ideas, puncutated by a few clear memories. Most of the clear memories are negative, like embarassments and foolish things I've done. I wish I could clear those off the shelves in my mind and replace them with more positive, fun things.
There are some really great things that I do remember clearly, though.
My 40 years have been filled with blessings. Not everything has gone the way I'd have liked, but it is impossible to look at my life without recognizing that God has been with me, and has given me much to be thankful for... and much with which to bless others.
I found this on Mark Lowry's website this morning. Audrey Hepburn was once asked to share her beauty tips, and she wrote this in response:
• For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.
• For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.
• For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.
• For beautiful hair, let a child run his/her fingers through it once a day.
• For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone.
• People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed; never throw out anyone.
• Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you will find one at the end of each of your arms. As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands; one for helping yourself, and the other for helping others.
I wish I could write like that!
I've actually got a pretty poor memory for events and conversations in my life, but a decent memory of facts and concepts that I've learned. In a way, my life seems like a blur of images, impressions, and ideas, puncutated by a few clear memories. Most of the clear memories are negative, like embarassments and foolish things I've done. I wish I could clear those off the shelves in my mind and replace them with more positive, fun things.
There are some really great things that I do remember clearly, though.
- My first glimpse of my wife, Nina, walking down the aisle on our wedding day.
- Meeting Nina for the first time, several years before we started dating.
- The moments our children were born.
- My interviews for my first I.T. position (really, great, fun conversations with the supervisors in the department, Linda Waldon and Cindy Sun.
- Learning to lead singing at age 9, from T.J. Jones and my dad, at the Dublin Church of Christ.
- Touring the home we would soon buy in 1996.
- My first Promise Keepers, in Anaheim, 1994 (a great road trip with my best friend, John Haffner; also had my first In-n-Out Burger meal on that trip!)
- The first devotional on the beach back at school, in fall of 1984; the water was warm, the moon was bright, and afterward, three cars full of us took off for a late-night run to Tommy's in Sepulveda.
- The note that Dr. Tom Olbricht wrote on a paper I had written for his Biblical Theology class in the Pepperdine extension program I did in '91-'92; it said, "Good, clear writing style." Coming from him, that was a real compliment!
- The surprise 30th birthday party Nina threw for me ten years ago, with more friends there than I realized I had!
- Waking up on my 40th birthday (okay, it was only this morning, but I'll take the memories I can get!)
- My granddad, Bud Watson, trying to bounce our son, John, on his knee just a month or so before he passed away. It was difficult for him, since he had been fighting with Parkinson's Disease for nearly ten years at the time. He never let it stop him from trying.
- My first time playing 18 holes of golf, again with Granddad Watson. I hit a 103. I've never played that well since!
- ...and many, many more....
My 40 years have been filled with blessings. Not everything has gone the way I'd have liked, but it is impossible to look at my life without recognizing that God has been with me, and has given me much to be thankful for... and much with which to bless others.
I found this on Mark Lowry's website this morning. Audrey Hepburn was once asked to share her beauty tips, and she wrote this in response:
• For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.
• For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.
• For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.
• For beautiful hair, let a child run his/her fingers through it once a day.
• For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone.
• People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed; never throw out anyone.
• Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you will find one at the end of each of your arms. As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands; one for helping yourself, and the other for helping others.
I wish I could write like that!
Sunday, June 06, 2004
Just a thought...
Does it occur to anyone else that when Jesus stood up in the boat and said, "Peace... Be still," he was probably speaking just as much to the agitated disciples in the boat as to the agitated wind and water outside the boat? They were in what looked like a dire situation, true; the water was filling up the boat, and they thought they'd drown, and all the while, Jesus was sleeping. (One wonders how Jesus slept in that kind of storm, but that's beside the point -- or is it?) Jesus woke up and took care of the storm. You'd think that would calm the disciples down, too, but according to Mark, they were now agitated, wondering just who Jesus really was, since he seemed to have control over the elements.
Eventually, they got it, and knew that Jesus was not only the one who could calm the storm, but the one who moves the elements to whip up storms in the first place. His power went far beyond that storm, and far beyond their fears. One wonders, though, what would have happened if they'd understood, and rode out the storm calmly, knowing that they were safe, because Jesus was in the boat with them.
Now if I could only get that through my head, I'd have something. Jesus not only has the power and authority to calm down the messes I find myself in, he has the power and authority to make me ride out the storm, even when it looks like I'm about to go down. After all, he promised he'd be with me.
Eventually, they got it, and knew that Jesus was not only the one who could calm the storm, but the one who moves the elements to whip up storms in the first place. His power went far beyond that storm, and far beyond their fears. One wonders, though, what would have happened if they'd understood, and rode out the storm calmly, knowing that they were safe, because Jesus was in the boat with them.
Now if I could only get that through my head, I'd have something. Jesus not only has the power and authority to calm down the messes I find myself in, he has the power and authority to make me ride out the storm, even when it looks like I'm about to go down. After all, he promised he'd be with me.
Saturday, June 05, 2004
Little league, little minds...
After two years in T-ball, we finally experienced our first "ugly parents" incident.
T-ball is such fun; the kids are so small, some very uncoordinated, but all of them excited about playing, though not always playing ball. Digging in the dirt and twirling were common activities during games this year. All the parents are glad for the kids to try, and there generally isn't much pressure on the kids to perform. We had one exception this year, a dad who seemed to think that his son's future depended on every play. But for the most part, he was easy to deal with.
Then came the last night of our team's season, and there was a scheduling mixup. The field our team was supposed to play on was also scheduled to hold a game by teams in the farms division. The T-ball-ers were shifted to the T-ball field, since nobody seemed to be playing there. But a few minutes later, the teams scheduled for the T-ball field began to arrive -- apparently the National League games start a half hour later. One lady got very irate and pushy, demanding that we get off of "their" field.
Our coaches were mostly cool about it, but they got kinda pushy when working out the eventual solution (our teams were there first, so the farm teams were bumped). At some point, it stoped being about the kids' enjoyment and learning teamwork, and began to have more to do with the egos of the coaches and parents. This was just T-ball! They don't count runs, outs, errors, and everone gets a turn to bat and play the different positions! Our kids were more excited about the pizza party scheduled for after the game than the game itself!
Maybe I'm just not competitive enough for this. I don't understand why there even has to be National and American leagues in little league, much less in T-ball. Does anyone have a kids baseball league that is just about playing a game and getting some exercise, and not about pushy parents creating pushy kids?
T-ball is such fun; the kids are so small, some very uncoordinated, but all of them excited about playing, though not always playing ball. Digging in the dirt and twirling were common activities during games this year. All the parents are glad for the kids to try, and there generally isn't much pressure on the kids to perform. We had one exception this year, a dad who seemed to think that his son's future depended on every play. But for the most part, he was easy to deal with.
Then came the last night of our team's season, and there was a scheduling mixup. The field our team was supposed to play on was also scheduled to hold a game by teams in the farms division. The T-ball-ers were shifted to the T-ball field, since nobody seemed to be playing there. But a few minutes later, the teams scheduled for the T-ball field began to arrive -- apparently the National League games start a half hour later. One lady got very irate and pushy, demanding that we get off of "their" field.
Our coaches were mostly cool about it, but they got kinda pushy when working out the eventual solution (our teams were there first, so the farm teams were bumped). At some point, it stoped being about the kids' enjoyment and learning teamwork, and began to have more to do with the egos of the coaches and parents. This was just T-ball! They don't count runs, outs, errors, and everone gets a turn to bat and play the different positions! Our kids were more excited about the pizza party scheduled for after the game than the game itself!
Thursday, June 03, 2004
Just who am I, anyway?
For those of you who don't know who I am, I thought I'd post a little primer about me.
I'm a stay-at-home dad. I didn't start out that way. I was a computer geek in the Silly-con Valley for 14 years, fresh out of a Math/Computer Science degree at Pepperdine. My job went bye-bye in 2001, as so many others did. My wife stepped in to pick up her Pharmacy career, and I've been "Mr. Mom" since. I'm not exactly the domestic type, but according to my kids, I make the best macaroni and cheese in the world!
I'm an occasional computer consultant. Every now and then, I get out of the house to go fix someone else's computers, instead of staying home to break my own. I'm trying to build up a clientele, and eventually, this may turn into a real job. Who knows?
I'm a music nut. When I was growing up, my dad played classical music all the time, and also showed a fondness for folk music. My mom went through a country music phase when I was young, and I still bear the scars. Those things have affected my musical tastes through my life. My music collection includes rock (if it's got good musical sensibilities), classical, folk, vocal, a cappella, musicals, jazz, a few country albums (mostly Chet Atkins), southern gospel, contemporary Christian, and worship music. I also have a lot of novelty music, and am an unabashed "Weird Al" Yankovic fan!
I'm a Christ-follower. Despite my failings, and despite the hypocrisy that my life sometimes shows, I love the Lord. I want to act like the kind of person that God wants me to be, so that people know that He is a loving God, He's a great God who deserves to be worshipped, and He calls everyone to get close to Him.
I'm a church-going Christian. Despite the fact that organized religion spends entirely too much time propogating itself instead of serving the world as Jesus would, I love the church that I attend. There are lots of good folks there who also love God, and are giving their lives in service to Him.
I'm a worship leader. I've done a fair amount of singing in my life, and nothing is quite so fulfilling as singing to lead worship. I think worship is why God gave me the ability to sing well, and I'm glad to be in a church where I can use that gift nearly every Sunday.
Is that all I am? Probably not, but that's all I can think of to write about today. to sum it up, though, allow me to borrow a line from "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy..."
I'm just this guy, you know.
I'm a stay-at-home dad. I didn't start out that way. I was a computer geek in the Silly-con Valley for 14 years, fresh out of a Math/Computer Science degree at Pepperdine. My job went bye-bye in 2001, as so many others did. My wife stepped in to pick up her Pharmacy career, and I've been "Mr. Mom" since. I'm not exactly the domestic type, but according to my kids, I make the best macaroni and cheese in the world!
I'm an occasional computer consultant. Every now and then, I get out of the house to go fix someone else's computers, instead of staying home to break my own. I'm trying to build up a clientele, and eventually, this may turn into a real job. Who knows?
I'm a music nut. When I was growing up, my dad played classical music all the time, and also showed a fondness for folk music. My mom went through a country music phase when I was young, and I still bear the scars. Those things have affected my musical tastes through my life. My music collection includes rock (if it's got good musical sensibilities), classical, folk, vocal, a cappella, musicals, jazz, a few country albums (mostly Chet Atkins), southern gospel, contemporary Christian, and worship music. I also have a lot of novelty music, and am an unabashed "Weird Al" Yankovic fan!
I'm a Christ-follower. Despite my failings, and despite the hypocrisy that my life sometimes shows, I love the Lord. I want to act like the kind of person that God wants me to be, so that people know that He is a loving God, He's a great God who deserves to be worshipped, and He calls everyone to get close to Him.
I'm a church-going Christian. Despite the fact that organized religion spends entirely too much time propogating itself instead of serving the world as Jesus would, I love the church that I attend. There are lots of good folks there who also love God, and are giving their lives in service to Him.
I'm a worship leader. I've done a fair amount of singing in my life, and nothing is quite so fulfilling as singing to lead worship. I think worship is why God gave me the ability to sing well, and I'm glad to be in a church where I can use that gift nearly every Sunday.
Is that all I am? Probably not, but that's all I can think of to write about today. to sum it up, though, allow me to borrow a line from "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy..."
I'm just this guy, you know.
Friday, May 21, 2004
Never trust anyone who doesn't drink coffee...
Remember the scene in "You've Got Mail" where Tom Hanks bemoans the Starbucks experience?
I used to be able to laugh at that. When I first slunk into a Starbucks, it was a nerve-wracking experience. Everyone else in there seemed very sure of what they wanted, using all the right codewords -- half-caf, no foam, quad shot, venti -- and there I was, just trying to figure out what "macchiato" was!
I timidly said, "Um... a mocha."
"What size, sir?" barked the barrista -- trained by the company into that professionally indifferent, yet somehow intimidating bearing so common among them. Maybe it's the espresso fumes.
"Um... medium."
"Grande? We've got tall, grande, and venti."
"Tall, then." That seemed like it would be larger -- I knew I didn't want a short. Especially since I couldn't find it on the menu.
Then I went over to wait with the four or five other customers, listening as their drinks were served, and they all seemed to require more adjectives than the average cereal commercial. It's an awkward wait, even to this day, as you stand there, watching like a hawk, making sure nobody else gets your drink by accident (or intent!), leaving you to have to bother the barrista yet again. "Um, did you already make my triple venti carmel macchiato no-foam with whip add hazelnut?" Usually they haven't yet.
But now I'm a much more seasoned caffeine addict. I can casually breeze in, order my quad-grande-soy-white-mocha-no-whip-extra-hot, almost never thinking about whether I'm buying fancy coffee because I actually like coffee, or do I just like being something of a coffee snob? It isn't all attitude, though. I just happen to like a little extra caffeine (quad), can't stand the taste of hot milk (hence the soy milk), don't want the whipped cream taking up the room that could be used for more coffee (no-whip), and like it to be hot for more than two minutes (exra hot). It's all reasonable, a consequence of the years of coffee-drinking experience I've had.
Does anyone else think of C.S. Lewis' discussion of the "gluttony of delicacy" when they order a fancy coffee drink at more than 30 cents an ounce?
Not that I'm giving it up, mind you. I'm just asking. Oh, that reminds me, I need to put more money on my Starbucks card before taking my daughter to gymnastics today. I want an espresso brownie with my cup today.
The whole purpose of places like Starbucks is for people with no decision-making ability whatsoever to make six decisions just to buy one cup of coffee. Short, tall, light, dark, caf, decaf, low-fat, non-fat, etc. So people who don't know what... they're doing or who on earth they are can, for only $2.95, get not just a cup of coffee but an absolutely defining sense of self: Tall. Decaf. Cappuccino.
I used to be able to laugh at that. When I first slunk into a Starbucks, it was a nerve-wracking experience. Everyone else in there seemed very sure of what they wanted, using all the right codewords -- half-caf, no foam, quad shot, venti -- and there I was, just trying to figure out what "macchiato" was!
I timidly said, "Um... a mocha."
"What size, sir?" barked the barrista -- trained by the company into that professionally indifferent, yet somehow intimidating bearing so common among them. Maybe it's the espresso fumes.
"Um... medium."
"Grande? We've got tall, grande, and venti."
"Tall, then." That seemed like it would be larger -- I knew I didn't want a short. Especially since I couldn't find it on the menu.
Then I went over to wait with the four or five other customers, listening as their drinks were served, and they all seemed to require more adjectives than the average cereal commercial. It's an awkward wait, even to this day, as you stand there, watching like a hawk, making sure nobody else gets your drink by accident (or intent!), leaving you to have to bother the barrista yet again. "Um, did you already make my triple venti carmel macchiato no-foam with whip add hazelnut?" Usually they haven't yet.
But now I'm a much more seasoned caffeine addict. I can casually breeze in, order my quad-grande-soy-white-mocha-no-whip-extra-hot, almost never thinking about whether I'm buying fancy coffee because I actually like coffee, or do I just like being something of a coffee snob? It isn't all attitude, though. I just happen to like a little extra caffeine (quad), can't stand the taste of hot milk (hence the soy milk), don't want the whipped cream taking up the room that could be used for more coffee (no-whip), and like it to be hot for more than two minutes (exra hot). It's all reasonable, a consequence of the years of coffee-drinking experience I've had.
Does anyone else think of C.S. Lewis' discussion of the "gluttony of delicacy" when they order a fancy coffee drink at more than 30 cents an ounce?
Not that I'm giving it up, mind you. I'm just asking. Oh, that reminds me, I need to put more money on my Starbucks card before taking my daughter to gymnastics today. I want an espresso brownie with my cup today.
Tuesday, May 18, 2004
Okay, lets' be honest here...
...the only reason a person blogs is because their ego succumbs to peer pressure. I'm a big enough man to admit that.
I've been told that I'm a good writer -- and not just by my ego's alternate personalities, either. Truth is, a friend once told me that I should write a book. I'm guessing it's because the letters I would write were nearly long enough to be books in themselves. My response was that I knew I had the skills, but I didn't have any ideas. If you write a book, it ought to be about something, don't you think?
Well, thanks to the internet and the geek-cultural thing that is blogging, I've found a form of expression that will let me use my writing skills, without any expectation of having relevant content. At least, from what I've seen of most blogging, such things as relevance, continuity, and social significance are not required.
For that matter, neither are proper grammar and correct spelling, but there are some standards I refuse to lower.
You wanna know why I started this blog? Really? I was only going to post a comment on Mike Cope's blog, and in order to do so I had to register, and that took me into creating a blog of my own. "What the heck," says I, "I'll blather. It's not like I have to tell anyone it's there!"
If you found this, don't tell anyone. It'll be our little secret. At least until my ego gets the best of me. Again.
I've been told that I'm a good writer -- and not just by my ego's alternate personalities, either. Truth is, a friend once told me that I should write a book. I'm guessing it's because the letters I would write were nearly long enough to be books in themselves. My response was that I knew I had the skills, but I didn't have any ideas. If you write a book, it ought to be about something, don't you think?
Well, thanks to the internet and the geek-cultural thing that is blogging, I've found a form of expression that will let me use my writing skills, without any expectation of having relevant content. At least, from what I've seen of most blogging, such things as relevance, continuity, and social significance are not required.
For that matter, neither are proper grammar and correct spelling, but there are some standards I refuse to lower.
You wanna know why I started this blog? Really? I was only going to post a comment on Mike Cope's blog, and in order to do so I had to register, and that took me into creating a blog of my own. "What the heck," says I, "I'll blather. It's not like I have to tell anyone it's there!"
If you found this, don't tell anyone. It'll be our little secret. At least until my ego gets the best of me. Again.
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