If ignorance is bliss, I'm a VERY happy man.

There are any number of things I don’t understand. That, I suppose, does not make me unique, but in admitting it, I feel that I elevate myself somewhat above those who refuse to seek wisdom by confessing their need for it. Of course, that is probably an unwise feeling on my part.

One thing I don’t understand is the appeal of the idea of having a “soul mate.” I understand essentially what it means. The basic idea is that we are born as one of two “twin souls,” or some would say, with half of a soul, and it is our destiny in life to wander the earth until we find our other half, our “spiritual twin,” and join our lives together to be complete. If we fail to find that person, we will never know the great joy of being a “whole person.” With something on the order of 6 billion people living in the world, the odds of finding that one person make this a rather depressing idea, to me. Of course, if “destiny” is involved, I suppose it would arrange to at least lob the two souls in the same corner of the planet.

There is a more popular understanding of the idea of a soul mate, though. A soul mate is someone with whom you share a deep affinity, and with whom your every moment is comfortable, happy, and open. You share pastimes, you complete each others sentences, and there is no barrier between the two of you. This is because, again, you are “meant to be together.” It’s supposed to be a very romantic notion.

I feel this is just plain hooey. What is romantic about the idea that I picked my wife because I was meant to, because “destiny” brought us together, and we couldn’t help it? It seems much more romantic to say that I chose her, out of all the other women I might have chosen, to spend my life with.

I have never regretted that choice. I have often regretted how unfit I am for the task of being a husband, but have not regretted that she is the poor woman I have inflicted myself upon! I’m not an awful guy, really, but if I’d know how much of a heartless, thoughtless jerk I can be at times, I might have just kicked her in the shin to start with, and said, “If you can come away from that smiling, you just might understand what being married to me will be like!”

If Nina and I are to be anything like “soul mates,” it will be because both of us have chosen to do so. We chose to marry each other, and we must continue to chose to become more like the person our spouse needs in order to feel fulfilled and happy, and in order to continue to grow into the person they need to be.

I am thinking of these things today because I talked to a friend this morning who is having some difficulties in his marriage. He is very confused and hurt by everything going on, but is honest enough to realize that he is not without fault in the situation, and is trying to figure out how to move forward and make things better. He’s learning to put words to ideas he instinctively knew, but is now having to flesh out into words so that he and his wife can talk constructively about their relationship. Things like, “Getting married is easy; staying married is hard work.” Well, what does that hard work look like? It’s different for each marriage, though it’s bound up in similar principles: find out what your spouse needs, what they want, and meet those needs and wants as best you can, without sacrificing yourself. If both partners give themselves to this principle, it can make things easier. The problems arise in wanting to give yourself to your spouse, and in really being able to identify and distinguish between their wants and their needs.

Well, that’s what’s on my mind right now. A tad heavy, I realize, but what fun is thinking about this stuff if you don’t make someone else put up with it?

Happy Birthday to me!

Today I turn 41. Nothing special about 41, I suppose, except that it's the last prime-numbered birthday before.... 43.

We're not planning much of anything for today. Kids have school, wife has work, son has end-of-season party with his baseball team. My wife's hospital is having its very crucial accreditation review and state inspection right now, so she's pretty well consumed with that. I may take myself to breakfast, just for the fun of it. Other than that, my day looks filled with laundry and kitchen cleaning.

Someone asked me the other night if I was having a midlife crisis. I responded, "I'm not done with my first childhood, and I'm supposed to be starting a second one?" I'm not buying a sports car, I'm not looking to looking to change careers (that kind of happened for me), and I'm not yearning to sail around the world in a VW bug. I suppose I'm content with the way things are. I never had any big plans for my life; I've just always wanted to be a good guy and to have people think I'm worth knowing. So far, so good.

Well, I guess I'll let you know what's on my birthday wish list, since you asked. (Okay, nobody did, but I've got to fill up some space here.)

• The Real Group's "Live in Stockholm" album. I've recently discovered this great a cappella group from Sweden, and just can't get enough of them.


• Star Trek: Insurrection on DVD. Once a Trekkie, always a Trekkie.


• A Starbucks gift card, of any value. I've recently begun enjoying soy lattes. I never liked a regular latte because of the flavor of milk. Soy milk takes care of that, so I get a good cup of strong coffee that's not too sweet.


• An iTunes gift certificate. The perfect gift for a music-loving, iPod-toting computer geek!


• And, of course, the ever-popular (at least to me) Hawaiian shirt!

Other than that, I'd be happy to hear from you, and for you to treat yourself to a good cup of coffee, or an apple fritter, or fish taco, or a few minutes of good music, as a "Happy Tim's Birthday to You" gift.

And be sure to think of my parents, Garey and Gerry Castle, of San Diego, CA. Today is their 44th wedding anniversary, as well.

Beat up the guy in the rat suit.

I am writing this in the local Chuck E. Cheese, where we have brought our kids, as all good parents must, in order to amuse them, feed them, and prepare them for a life of gambling. It's a "gateway drug" of amusement. From here, they will feel at ease on the carnival midway, forking over mounds of cash in the hopes of acquiring one of those adorable stuffed animals the size of an NFL linebacker.

When they're older, it's on to Dave & Buster's, the adult version of Chuck E. Cheese, without the climbing tunnels. Good thing, I suppose; it wouldn't be wise to locate those tunnels too close to a full-service bar, especially with all those adults around. (shudder)

The next nefarious step is, of course, Las Vegas, or Atlantic City, depending on which is either 1) closer, or 2) a place you are less likely to see anyone you know. Of course, here in California, we have the "Indian casinos," thus allowing all of the folks who are too old for Chuck E. Cheese a more convenient place to lose all their money.

The final destination on this forbidding road is, of course, Bingo at the local Catholic church. That's one place you REALLY don't want any alcohol served -- some of those folks are as likely as anyone to be packing heat, ready to use it whenever some young punk in a Dave & Buster's t-shirt yells "Bingo!" when the caller read G-53, instead of the G-52 that was needed.

The whole point of a place like Chuck E. Cheese is, obviously, to get you to into a place that is noisy enough, flashy enough, and scary enough to distract you from noticing how much money you are spending. I have this image whenever I enter of the very nice young person at the gate, first stamping all the hands with a number in invisible ink (The mark of the beast? Perhaps. I'm always careful to proffer my left hand, just in case.), then inserting a vacuum hose into my wallet.

A trip to Chuck E. Cheese, however, is a gift that keeps on giving. The kids enjoy whatever little toys they get with the tickets they win. My wife and I enjoy how much quieter it seems at home, after having subjected ourselves to someplace much, much noisier for a while. And we all share the most lasting effect of the trip: Indigestion.

Depriving my children

I am a bad father.

At least, that seems to be the message I'm getting, whether explicitly or subliminally, from various quarters around me. I have deprived my children of one of the basics of life in the 21st century. They don't have an Xbox. Nor do they have a GameCube, PlayStation 2, Gameboy, GameGear, Nintendo DS, or Sony PSP. How DO they ever survive?

I did break down and buy a Nintendo 64 a couple of years ago, just before it was relegated to antique status by the GameCube. And I do mean only "just before." By a matter of weeks. I knew the GameCube was coming, and yet, I bought my son a dinosaur waiting to happen. And only four games. We've since added three to that count, thanks to eBay and a couple of garage sales.

I don't feel compelled to buy anything newer right now, of course, since Micro$oft and $ony have announced their new consoles, and I'm may have missed mention of whatever Ninten-dough is coming out with next. I need to wait until a few weeks before their release to buy something obsolete.

When I talk to other parents, they seem rather shocked that I don't have one of the current-generation game consoles. Some are surprised because they know that I am a computer and electronics junkie, and it would be only natural, in their view, for me to want to keep up with gaming electronics, as well. Others are suprised because they know that I have an 8-year-old son, which, of course, means that I have a person in the house who begs and whines for whatever the latest thing is, especially when "...everyone in school already has one!" These folks seem shocked that I could resist the begging and whining. "I finally just gave up and gave it to him so that he'd be quiet!" seems to be something of a mantra shared by way too many parents.

Now, I don't want to get on a rant about other people's parenting skills, especially since I know my kids are probably on the fast track to being part of, at some point in their lives, an organization whose name beings with, "Adult Children of...." (insert some disease here, like "bookaholic," "caffeine-dependent loser," "computer geek," etc.) But it seems to me that when you give in to whining, you're training the kids to whine. They whine for something, you resist. They whine more, you resist more. They whine long enough, and you give in. It's a battle of endurance, and whoever gives up first is saying to the other, "I recognize that yours is the dominant will in this relationship, and I look forward to surrendering to you in some future battle."

I don't like these kinds of battles, and I'm hoping that by not giving in to them, my kids will eventually give them up, in favor of some more socially-acceptable way of getting whatever they want out of me. Like blackmail.

Hey, now, there's an idea for a video game: "Parent-Child Power Struggles." They come up with that for the MicroSonyTendo XGamePlayBoxCubeStation, and I'll buy one! Of course, my kids'd still probably beat me at it.

It's not a hiatus, it's a lull.

Well, I'm back. I realize that I haven't written anything here in... oh, well, a 'coon's age," perhaps a geriatric 'coon's age. I am not going to promise that I will try to be more prolific, more faithful, more diligent at this. I will write when I will write, and leave it at that. Didja ever hear the old line about, "When I feel the urge to work, I lie down until it goes away." Well, when it comes to blogging, I've been lying down quite a bit lately.

------------------

Okay, I realize that this topic has probably been overdone by way too many stand-up comedians, but I think I'm just a tad fed up with the "model years" of cars being offset from the date they actually hit the showrooms.

In April 2003, we bought a brand-spankin' new 2004 Toyota Sienna van. We got ours when people who had been on the waiting lists to buy them were still waiting. (It was a matter of timing and luck, when my wife happened to call a dealer who had taken delivery of the vehicle, but the person who had ordered it backed out of the deal.)

But let's face it. That "2004" vehicle, which was available in the early second quarter of 2003, was probably assembled in early 2003, based on prototypes made in 2002, based on design work done in 2001. It's already three-year-old technology when you drive it off the lot! No wonder cars can't seem to hold their value!

Still, we love our van. On road trips, it's a great step up from my wife's 1999 (1997?) Camry. And it was cool to be driving one of the few on the road, at the time we bought it. About a week into our ownership, though, we pulled into a parking lot in San Diego (about 500 miles from here) and parked next to our van's twin. The polish was already wearing off.

Now, of course, you can't stroll through a Wal-Mart parking lot without seeing three or four vans just like ours, down to the color and options (running boards, moon roof, DVD player, tinted windows, just to name a few). The incidence grows ever higher the closer you get to the location of gymnastics lessons, dance classes, little league parks, and other such kid-saturated locations. There's practically one in every garage -- right next to the potof chicken.

...I still love you in my heart.

This afternoon, my wife, Nina, called from work to ask a question. Our daughter, Natalie picked up the phone in the other room, knowing it was her mommy. She was her usual cute self, but was interrupting a little, so we had to ask her to hang up. She complied, but then she got back on and said, "Mommy, I forgot to tell you. I love you, and even when I think I don't love you, I know I still love you in my heart."

What a great sentiment! In her own childlike way, Natalie was recognizing that sometimes we don't feel so happy about those we love, but that doesn't change our love for them. She expressed it so beautifully that I just had to record it for posterity!

A new toy... and thankfulness

I splurged a mighty splurge the other day, and purchased an Apple PowerBook G4 laptop. My old Dell laptop had finally outworn its welcome, falling short on performance and capabilities when I needed them the most. In replacing it, I wasn’t going to go for the cheapest option, but for an option that would last me as long as possible. Since I have an 10-year old Powerbook 530c that still works (slow though it may be), and two Windows laptops that are five and six years old that have failed, I opted for a Macintosh. I should have done it sooner.

I’ve used Macs since they came out in 1984, and have used Windows since version 1.0. I used other things before that (MS-DOS, CPM), and have used various other systems in the past 25 years (Unix, Linux, VAX/VMS, etc). I have always found that the Mac systems were the ones that helped me get things done without getting in my way. David Pogue said it best: “I’m not a Mac bigot, I’m an elegance bigot.”

Windows has always been problematic. Before Windows 2000 came out, being an expert at Windows was always about knowing how to overcome its shortcomings. Windows XP was a major improvement when it came out, and I continue to favor it over all previous versions of Windows. It’s the closest Microsoft has ever come to “plug and play,” and has been by far the most stable Windows ever.

But give me a Mac any day. Especially now with Mac OS X, with its Unix underpinnings, it’s a real geek’s operating system, with a face that even your grandmother can love! For the past several years, I have had both a Mac G4 and an HP Pavilion Pentium 3 on my desk. They’re about as old as each other. I have had to reinstall everything on the HP at least three times, when it has completely crashed on me. Getting all of my programs reinstalled and getting everything configured correctly takes hours and hours. I have had to reinstall everything on my Mac G4 exactly once; recovering my configuration was as easy as moving a few folders around, and I only had to reinstall two programs. Time spent: about two hours.

So the choice to get a new PowerBook was as easy. Deciding to spend the money was tough, but with my consulting business coming together, I have some justification to make such an investment.

Tuesday, when I went to buy it, I went to the Apple Store at Stoneridge Mall in Pleasanton. That’s very near my friend John’s office, so I invited him to come with me and share the fun! He met me there, and we gawked and drooled at all the fun stuff in the store while we were waiting for them to get all the pieces I wanted together. Then we went back over to his office, so I could open it up, kick the tires, all while kibbutzing and drinking coffee together. It doesn’t get much better than that. Well, maybe if there had been a large-ish basket of Gordon Biersch’s garlic fries....

As I was driving to John’s office, I was feeling very thankful. I started praying a prayer of thanksgiving to God. Not so much for the laptop; I doubt whether God gets as excited about our new toys as we do. But I was thankful for having a vocation that I enjoy, and good tools to do it with, and for friends who I can share such non-essentials with. Especially since I have several friends (John, Ken R., Walt B., Brian S., as well as my brother and my dad) who are fellow geeks and fellow Christians. The material things we enjoy together (computers, coffee, baseball, music, books) are transient, but the faith we share is eternal. We can talk about our mutual interests, build friendships based on our shared experiences, and know that we are building relationships that will be carry on into eternity. Computers will crash, become obsolete, and go in and out of fashion, but the fellowship of Jesus’ followers will go on forever.

So, what do you think? Is God a Windows user or a Mac user?

...but it's a good tired.

My family and I spent Friday and Saturday attending the ZOE Group worship conference in Fresno. We got back home at 1:00 Sunday morning, very tired, but very blessed. I just wanted to note a few of the blessings here.

We got to the College Church of Christ a bit late Friday morning. Nina and I, with John and Natalie in tow, greeted Eric Noah-Wilson, the guy who keeps the ZOE ministry ticking, in the foyer, and then walked over to the chapel, where worship was already starting. Walking in, Brandon was the first person I saw, and his smile greeted us warmly. He's a good guy, and such a gifted servant of God. We found space in the back, and and joined in the worship. Despite knowing only about a dozen people in the room of nearly a hundred people, it felt comfortable and welcoming to lift our voices and hearts with these other Jesus-followers.

In the Worship Minister's track, we found a corner in the back of the room with a sofa in it, and got the kids settled. Now I know what you're thinking. Taking kids into a conference, with all the talking to bore them, and continually having to shush them and get them to settle down. After all, they're only 8 and 5 years old! But the kids did great. We did have to shush them occasionally, and try to keep them from moving around too much. But for the most part, they were fine. It helped that the air of the session was very informal. I was struck by how blessed Nina and I are to have kids that we can trust to behave themselves in such situations.

Later, we had a quiet worship time, with three stations to participate in various activities, and quiet music playing, with readings showing on the screen. Great blessings in this time. First, my son, John was dragging me away from the folks I was talking with in the hallway beforehand, because he wanted to go in and do the different stations. He and Natalie were both excited about doing these things. I didn't know they'd even been listening to Brandon's explanation of the stations. The one that he and Natalie both enjoyed was the one with modeling clay, where the task was to sculpt something that represented your heart, given to God. John's first (of 11!) sculpture depicted the recent Indonesian tsunami. That's something which has been on his mind a lot lately. He really hurts for those affected. Natalie's creation depicted Jesus on the cross. It was so great to see them getting the point of the activity. At the prayer station, we were to write the names of people who needed God's touch on post-it notes and put them on the wall; then we were to pray over all the names as we looked over them. Natalie made sure to add my wife's grandmother, who has just gone from a 3-month hospital stay into a nursing home. At the meditation station, the scripture to read and meditate on was Psalm 51, which I had just read that morning. It has been on my mind ever since.

It was great to see our kids participating in these simple worship exercises. Brandon talked about how his Maddie still talks about a worship activity that they did several months ago at their church. The hands-on, tactical, illustrative things that have a lesson can be so powerful for children, helping them connect to God in meaningful ways that will secure their hearts to Him.

During the worship time, music was playing; Brandon had chosen some songs by Fernando Ortega, including two of my all-time favorites: "Jesus, King of Angels" and "Give Me Jesus." The latter always reminds me of Dr. Paul Piersall, who was the director of the Seaver College Singers when I was at Pepperdine. "Doc" was a great teacher, a gifted director, and a godly man who helped us see how what we were doing had an impact on the listeners, as well as on ourselves. We always ended our concerts with "Give Me Jesus," and I'll never forget the last concert we did with Doc, in Camarillo, CA in May of 1986. None of us got through that song without a few tears, and Doc himself broke down with us. He's now the chair of the Music Department at Abilene Christian University.

In the afternoon session, we made a new friend. Jack Weldon, a new member at the College Church, who asked if our kids might like to play with his son, Dakota, who was at home a few blocks away, and BORED! A little later, Dakota came in, and John and Natalie had a new buddy! They played the rest of the afternoon, and again on Saturday. Saturday evening, Jack and his wife Carrie invited the our kids to spend the evening at their house, watching movies and playing with their kids, while we went to the conference. It was such a blessing to meet some great people, and make new friends. Jack and Carrie own the Koffeeheads coffeehouse in Fresno, which, I understand, is quite popular there. I'll have to check it out the next time we're down there!

It was good to meet Chris "Sweet Tea" Lockhart, from Mobile, AL. He's the youth and family minister at the Port City Church of Christ, and we had met via WorshipForum.com, but it was good to share a few meals with him, and get to know him better.

It was also good to spend time with Owen and Dorothy Burgess from Bakersfield. They are dear friend whom we have known only about four years, but it seems as if we've been friends forever. They're very musically gifted, and approach and life with such genuine love for God. We've shared many meals with them -- most of them at Cracker Barrel in Nashville!

It was a great blessing to me to have so many people come up and say hello, after having seen my name and face on WorshipForum.com It's good to make connections with other people who are interested in studying and discussing worship. I met Ken McAlpin, the new music minister at the Campbell Church of Christ, former member of Acappella, and a really neat guy. I finally put the name with the face of Allen Gillespie, another WorshipForum friend. Chris Lindsey, of Watershed Worship and MediaShout was good to talk to about both of those endeavors.

As we left Saturday night, we were touched by all those who were concerned for our late-night drive home, with the possibility of fog, and knowing how tired we'd be. We made it home safely, with not too much fog, and with a strong sense of God's blessings on us.

No confessions, here, please!

I've been doing more blog reading than blogging lately (obviously), and it's interesting to think about the very broad range in the kinds of blogs there are, and what people seem to want to do with them. For some, they're writing commentary on their fields of expertise. Others use their blog to rant and rave about politics, religion, culture, or the irritating people in their lives. There are a LOT of blogs that are outlets for peoples' silliness and nothing else.

And then some use them as an alternative to getting counseling, spilling their guts about everything going on in their lives, and the awful things in their lives that have messed them up so badly, and taking time to lay the blame on everyone they possibly can, especially their parents. I suppose they think they're just shouting into the void, but what if their parents actually found their blogs and started reading them? Their kids couldn't get mad, since it's not like the parents have picked the cheap lock on their diaries to dig into their kids' lives. You post it on the web, and who knows who can see it?

I just can't see using my blog as a diary and confessional, myself. Why people would lay out in front of God and everybody all of their problems and shortcomings is beyond me. The people who are closest to me know my shortcomings pretty darn well, and if they want to complain about me on their own blogs, more power to 'em. But I just can't bring myself to confess all of my iniquities and point the finger of blame at my parents.

'Cause I KNOW my mom reads my blog.

Not long after posting my Christmas wish list, I was talking with my mom on the phone, and she asked what I wanted for Christmas. I told her that I'd posted it on my blog, so instead of having to get a pen to write down the list, she could print it out from her computer. Just tryin' to be helpful, mom!

The next day she called me again. Her first words were, "Okay, now you've done it."
"Oh?" says I. "What this time?"
She replied, "I read your blog."
"Oh." I was furiously racking my brain to try and remember if I'd said something negative about her, or my father, or any of the multitude of mistakes they made in raising me, or if I had written some confession of some hither-to-unconfessed childhoot transgression.
Mom went on. "I read all of it."
"Aha."
"Then I followed some of the links to some of your friends' blogs."
"Oh!"
"And I read all of theirs."
By this time, I'm thinking, "What's a woman your age doing sitting in front of the computer, playing voyeur to other people's lives? Haven't you got anything better to do than that, like going out and trying to scrape up money to buy me the iPod I have on my wish list?!!!" But I didn't tell her that.

Though I guess I have now. Oops.

A member of CMA

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.