seanymac

Her Milk Shake Brings All People Up in Arms

2011-01-27T12:05:00.002-06:00

So a mom in Canada had a hungry infant and she began to breast feed the child, in a secluded area of the store, under a blanket. An employee of the store told her to stop doing that in the store. Canada mom, reasonably to a point, was upset. Then a flash mob of breast-feeding mommies staged "milk-in" at the mall. Okay, I had to comment and I don't care if I am a man. Here is a situation where both sides are right. Yes, moms who choose or have to breast feed their children should not be stigmatized for doing son. Yes, store owners should be able to say, "hey, I don't want you doing that in my store." It's a mall for cripes sake. The mall could set up a private area for moms to do that. The mom could have simply waited till she could go to another area, maybe even a sitting area, to do the feeding. Children will not die if they are not fed within seconds of crying. Hard to believe, I know.

What irritates me is everyone's reaction. Some said - hey, do that in the bathroom. Really? Would you eat a sandwich, or better yet, feed your child table food in the bathroom? Moms said - we have rights!!! Really? What about other people who also operate in public. Don't they have the right to choose what they or their children are exposed to? Moms said - oh, well, breast feeding is natural and if you can't handle that, maybe you should grow thicker skin or not have children yourself. WHAT THE F***? Really? You are so self-centered as to say that only your viewpoint matters. I do lots of things that are natural everyday! I don't do all of them in public, even under a blanket because it is or can be offensive to some people. I live in a world where I acknowledge that I am not the center of the world and others may react to my actions. Hmm...maybe the best course of action was for everyone to think how they affect others? Guess I'll go get a glass of milk now.

Blogging Dead?

2011-01-20T12:24:00.001-06:00

In these days of technological advancement, it seems that the good ole blog is dying. I have posted a blog in two years, but I think it is high time to put some stuff back out there. Yes, the blog returns, but God knows what to write about.

Setting Your Past on Fire

2009-01-03T23:25:00.002-06:00

SERMON FROM DECEMBER 28, 2008

Well, here we are again. Sermon time. Last time was a movie moment, so I think this time, I will go back to sharing something from my past. You see, when I was younger, I had a slight problem with fires. I was three years old and absorbed in another fine episode of Sesame Street. It was a great one and Cookie Monster was about to chow down on some cookies. I was drinking some milk and I felt that I should take Sesame Street lessons to heart. I was going to share my milk with Cookie Monster. Now, you young kids probably have never seen a really old tv, but in the 70s, tvs were often made from black molded plastic with air slots in the back to cool down the tube. Well, to a three year old, those slots look like a good place to share milk with Cookie Monster. With a good slosh of milk, the tv began to spark and smoke. I decided to let my mom know – “Mommy, fire on tv.” Mom thought I was reporting some news event, until the smoke detector went off.
Needless to say, I learned a bit that day. Sadly, my parents did not learn from that moment. I was four and again watching Sesame Street. This time, the Count was teaching us how to count pennies. Hey, I had pennies and I wanted the Count to know he had taught me well. Again, the tv had slots and I had pennies. So the Count and I counted pennies, that is until I shorted out the tv and it smoldered again. Again, mom was not happy and I learned another lesson.
When you graduate from high school, sometimes, you get together with friends and have a bonfire and burn up some old textbook from high school that tormented you. Did I mention I went to one of these bonfires. Well, fortunately for the neighbors, only the birdhouse in their tree caught fire. Another lesson learned.
But in all seriousness, my past is riddled with interesting stories that make up who I am perceived to be. Sadly, my past often prevents me from being who I am. Your past makes up who you are all perceived to be, but also prevents you all from being who you are. What does that mean? We will find out that answer at the end of our lesson today.
Each one of our scripture readings provides some interesting insight into this concept of setting your past on fire. Our reading from Luke should be put into context. Travel MINISTRY. Jesus has just rebuked the Pharisees – which I know is a shocking action for Jesus to do. However, it was the reason for the rebuke that is so important. The Pharisees were questioning Jesus as to why he was “working” on the Sabbath. He had cured a man’s shriveled hand. The Pharisees could not believe that he would do anything on the Sabbath. And Jesus’ pure response was simple – which is lawful on the Sabbath - “to do good or to do evil. To save life or to destroy it.” That’s a powerful rebuke of past traditions. And he teaches his apostles about blessings and woes. Then he talks about good fruit from a good tree – our first reading today. The good man brings forth good things from the goodness stored in his heart. The evil man brings forth evil from the evil stored in his heart. What you store in your heart is what you send out later. Letting go of past wrongs, ill feelings, bad thoughts, and so on will free your heart from being a storehouse of evil. Open your heart to the good things and good things will come forth.
Then we turn to Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians, where in our reading, he talks about reconciling yourself with God. It’s a short and sweet message – believe in Christ and you will be made new. The old things will pass away. Everything will become new. More importantly, our wicked pasts were demolished through the death and resurrection of Christ. All our past sins were washed away. Everything we had done to separate ourselves from God was wiped clean. Our past had been set on fire. But the message calls for more than that. Just as God had done with us, so should we do with others. All past wrongs are to be purged. All slates are to be wiped clean. We cannot be new if we hold on to the past.
But there is one more message we heard today, it is from Paul’s letter to the Philipians. He writes to them from prison and reminds them about the good they have been doing. This was a church that began on the banks of a river and they had grown in unity and fellowship. They were not without their failings, but Paul saw the good in these people. Paul exhorted them to press harder toward the goal. It was this line in our reading - Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. Paul puts all the past behind him and focuses on the goal in front of him – to be a strong follower and disciple of Christ. Nothing from years ago is going to impede his progress. He did his wrongs and he knows them. There is no reason to dwell on them. The goal is clear and it is in the forward momentum that he reaches it.
So here we sit, trying to absorb these three passages into something that is relevant to our lives. And it is this time of year that it comes into play. Yes, I am going to mention the “R” word – resolution. It comes from the word “resolve,” which has many meanings. The definition of resolve that I choose to use – “to find an answer.” We use resolutions often as a mechanism to cope with past misgivings and malfeasances. My resolution is to quit smoking. My resolution is to stop swearing. My resolution is to give more to charity. Our resolutions are our way of looking at our past and assuaging our guilt by hoping to change things in the coming year.
WRONG ANSWER. That is not a resolution. A resolution isn’t about patching up the past. It’s about letting the past go because it impedes the goal. This year, my resolution is to find an answer. The question for which I am going to find an answer is – How can I be a better Christian? And to do that, I must move forward. I have to set my past on fire. I have to give up all of the petty things that I want, that I believe, that I cling to. And guess what? You do too.
Now, I am going to invite several guests up to the stage. They have actions, feelings, states of being on paper. We are going to set our pasts on fire. Don't worry, my firesetting days are long behind - I hope. FIRE STARTS
There it is – a clean slate. Good can come from our hearts because all that is evil has been burned away. Everything past has become new. We can forget that which is behind us and strive toward the goal. To be a better Christian. Those of you with white sheets of paper – stand up for our congregation. Go home today and set your past on fire. Amen.

Mixed Feelings for America

2008-11-05T08:12:00.003-06:00

Yes, Obama is our next POTUS. I am very happy about that. Sadly though, I watched silently as 3 states in our country joined many others in writing discrimination into their state constitutions (yes, California may appear too-close-to-call, but let's face reality). What do I mean? The issue is about gay marriage, but really it is quite bigger than that. Say what you will about gay marriage, that is not my point.

Here is what the issue truly boils down to. The STATE (meaning the government, not a particular entity) has created a legal concept known as marriage (or put your own state-created right in there). That legal concept includes some responsibilities, but also includes a great deal of rights and state-offered benefits. The State's apparent reason for this legal concept and the rights/benefits offered to those who partake of the legal concept is that marriage promotes stability, reduces crime, encourages population growth, and so on. Now, imagine that the State then comes in and says "You people are prohibited from marrying because of some immutable characteristic that you were born with and we don't like it."

Most of the amendments banning gay marriage are definitional amendments, and generally they read: "MARRIAGE IS DEFINED AS THE LEGAL UNION OF ONE MAN AND ONE WOMAN." Does this stop gays from marrying? No, so long as they marry someone of the opposite gender, not necessarily the one they love. Okay, so let's change the definition a bit.

"MARRIAGE IS DEFINED AS THE LEGAL UNION OF ONE MAN AND ONE WOMAN OF THE SAME RACE."

"MARRIAGE IS DEFINED AS THE LEGAL UNION OF ONE MAN AND ONE WOMAN OF THE SAME IQ."

"MARRIAGE IS DEFINED AS THE LEGAL UNION OF ONE MAN AND ONE WOMAN OF THE SAME ANCESTRAL NATIONAL ORIGIN."

"MARRIAGE IS DEFINED AS THE LEGAL UNION OF ONE MAN AND ONE WOMAN OF THE SAME FAITH."

Same race? That was tossed out by our U.S. Supreme Court on the grounds that it was discriminatory. What, you say? Yes, as recently as 45 years ago, certain states said that a marriage between a white person and a black person was constitutionally prohibited. They said that marriage between races was against the Bible. They said that marriage between races would destroy the institution of marriage. Hmmm, this sounds familiar, but we will get back to that later.

Same IQ? Well that prohibition would basically prohibit Republicans and Democrats from every getting married. But in all seriousness, intelligence is, at least in part, an innate characteristic. Why not prohibit opposite-intelligence marriages? It would protect people from having one person in control, which could lead to financial or physical abuse, which could result in divorce, which destroys the sanctity of marriage.

Same national origin? Again, why not? Let's not let someone of Irish descent marry someone of English descent. No Arab-Jew weddings for this blogger. See how we can create unity through force. I love this idea.

Same faith? Really, most people don't get to choose their religion. It is chosen long before. Can we really have a sanctified marriage if one of the participants, let's say she is Jewish, does believe in her husband's Messiah? We are asking for loads of trouble.

We don't do any of these discriminatory actions, which would very much protect this concept of the "sanctity of marriage," and "protecting our families." I am confused. We say it is time for change. We went out into the world and said no more to the old ways. And here we sit, writing discrimination into state constitutions.

How does someone's choice of soulmate destroy the sanctity of marriage? I guess because "the gay" is contagious? We will be damned if our children will be forced to read "King and King" (a book about prince who seeks love and marries a prince), but we give our children over to television and violent video games. I guess love in non-traditional forms is bad, but blood-spattered heads and half-naked eye-candy is totally cool (so long as it isn't gay, unless the blood-spattered heads are on gays). It is totally okay for people to choose not to marry and have children together, but when two people of the same gender choose to do so, that is bad.

America has a new dawn before it. Sadly, there are storm clouds trying to block out the sun. I guess this is our America. A time for change. Where discrimination is okay when the person you are discriminating against is "icky." Go kiss your bride, America, but watch out for the stubble.

Marriage, Society, and Hope for Individual Responsibility

2008-10-13T13:28:00.002-05:00

Okay, it really is time to open my mouth and say some things. The chips are falling where they may with the gay marriage debate. Massachusetts, then California, then Connecticut, and Iowa is waiting in the wings with a decision likely in late Winter. So why say anything? I guess because it is time to really let people just how pissed off I am at the propaganda tactics. For the record, I am in favor of marriage generally, regardless of orientation. Hey, the "state" felt it necessary to create a legal entity known as a "marriage," and so it cannot continue to behave so one-sidedly when it comes to those who wish to be married to the partner of their choosing.

The California decision is a hot one because they have a ballot initiative, with semantics wars going back and forth, to ban marriage. Each side is now engaged in an advertising battle to end all advertising battles. Here is some print media garbage from the "Yes on Prop 8" (against gay marriage) people:

"California's state Education Code (Sections 51890 and 51933) requires that teachers instruct children as young as kindergarteners about marriage. If the California gay marriage ruling is not overturned, teachers will be required to teach young children there is no difference between gay marriage and traditional marriage. Proposition 8 protects children from being taught in California public schools that same-sex marriage is the same as traditional marriage."

WHAT??? Yes, that's exactly what was said. Here is the substance of the ad: The ad features a young girl arriving home from school to show her mother a picture book that was read to her class by their teacher that day. The book, "King and King," is about a prince marrying another prince, "and I can marry a princess" the girl says, to her mother's disbelief.

WHAT, part 2????? So, now, reading something about homosexuality makes you gay (or at least to the Yes on 8 people, makes you consider going gay). Truly, I am perturbed for many reasons, but the most important is this: Since when are parents prohibited from having discussions with children about what they learn in school and whether they agree with what is taught? Seriously, there are lots of things I was taught in school that my parents did not agree with. But isn't that what education is all about - the advancement of knowledge by the free exchange of ideas? Do I think that a 7-year old should be taught anything about marriage (regardless of orientation)? Hell no. Children should never learn about the horrible institution of marriage (and all the ills it seems to bring into people's lives) until they have mastered algebra.

Am I anti-marriage? No, I love it. But when it comes to our children learning about math and music before learning about social institutions, I choose the basic learning first. However, if it is going to be taught, teach it fairly and openly. If there is a parent that disagrees, then by all means, do you job as a parent and teach your children your values. I guess I am just fired up mostly because I cannot believe that we live in a society that treats classes of people differently and turns to the government when being a parent is too hard. Next thing you know we will be asking the government to make interracial marriage illegal and asking the going to install parental control chips in our television sets.

I speak in the tongues of men and of angels

2008-10-06T23:31:00.002-05:00

It's been some time since I wrote here. Partly, it is because I have had a lot of work, a lot of baby raising, and a lot of personal time to enjoy. I was pondering a lot of things and I am reminded of a few phrases that have had some relevance to me lately:

1) If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.
2) It is better to keep your mouth shut and have people think you are a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.
3) Gossip is like a boomerang. It will hit its intended target, but don't forget that it comes back to the thrower.
4) Be who you are and say what you feel because those who matter don't mind and those who mind don't matter.

I have to let you know one important thing. The quote from paragraph #4 is often attributed to Dr. Seuss. I have to clear something up. It's not from the good doctor. Sure, it fits his later writing style (Oh, The Places You'll Go), but he didn't write it.

So what is this rambling all for? I guess I am an unapproachable person, because many people (from the courthouse, from non-work world, and even from church) have been very free with their words and judgments about me. I find that interesting, but more so, I find it sad. I am certainly not perfect, but well, suppose you could address the concerns directly to me. Anyways, I am just irritable enough to let bad attitudes get to me. So, take this real Dr. Seuss quote to heart this week: "So the writer who breeds more words than he needs, is making a chore for the reader who reads."

I Believe in Unicorns

2008-08-03T13:24:00.002-05:00

My sermon from July 27, 2008 called:
I BELIEVE IN UNICORNS

One day, years ago, my friend Mike, a devout agnostic, asked me, after our philosophy of theology class, “Why do you believe in Jesus?”
Stunned by this very unusual question, I answered, “Because that’s who I was taught to believe in.” And then the discussion went away. We were college students and pizza was more important. And I was sliding closer to agnoticism myself.

So, when this question came to me from our youth group earlier this year, the question required an answer. And the question was more quixotic than I had encountered before. Why? Because it was this question, “Why should I believe in Jesus? I can’t even see him in my daily life.” Talk about a sermon that writes itself. And so, I set out to ponder all the things I believe without actual visual proof.

I believe in gravity. I have never seen gravity personally, although I have seen gravity in action when my lumbering body finds one of the many invisible holes in the ground that plague our country. I believe in air. I have never seen air personally, except when I have visited Los Angeles. I know that air is there because I breathe. I believe in the Cubs winning the World Series. I have never seen it personally, but the rubber wristband I have from Wrigley Field has one word on it . . . “believe.” I believe there are Democrats in DuPage County. DEMOCRAT VISUAL AID. No one has ever truly seen one here, but they do exist. They leave droppings and clues everywhere.

I believe in this guy – SHOW SANTA VISUAL AID. I have never seen Santa Claus. I have never spoken to him face to face. I have never been able to find real, CSI evidence of his existence. But I believe. How could you not? Selflessly thinks of others. Is independently wealthy. Impeccable choice of covert outfits. Why this Santa fella is okay. He is almost at Batman levels of popularity.

But not even Santa comes close to this though. I need something as a better example. Something powerful. Something imaginative. Something with one horn coming from its forehead. Unicorns – that’s it. SHOW UNICORN VISUAL AID. Unicorns are sometimes associated with pink fluffy clouds and pretty scenery. However, unicorns are also noble, powerful, and fierce. But more importantly, unicorns fall into the realm of magic and wisdom. So, why talk about them here? Well, there’s a story about a little girl who finds her way into a crazy, magical world. Her name is Alice. She meets many people and creatures during her adventures. In one scene, she has just met Humpty Dumpty, and then a flurry of all the king’s horses and all the king’s men arrive. Finally, she settles down at a tea party, and a there he is ---- the unicorn. Now, everyone at the tea party is a bit nutty, except for Alice and this unicorn.
The unicorn has never seen a child before. Awestruck at this find, the unicorn remarks that he always thought children were wild, fantastic monsters. When Alice responds, she too is awestruck, saying that she always thought unicorns were fabulous creatures. It is then that the unicorn says it all, “well, now that we have seen each other, if you believe in me, I’ll believe in you. Is that a bargain?” They celebrate this moment of belief with a plum-cake.

Believe is a strange word. It means to accept something as true and factual. It means to have an opinion on something. It means to have a strong conviction in the goodness or ability of something or someone. It means to have religious faith. Whatever meaning you attach to the word, to believe is something monumental. And nowhere does believing require proof, fact, or evidence.

Let’s look at our Old Testament reading. The brief reading from 2nd Chronicles is part of a tumultuous time in the Kingdom of Judah. Jehoshaphat is a king in trouble. Ammonites and Moabites are attacking. Things do not look good. And so, Jehoshaphat and his people do what anyone might do when faced with terrible adversity. They pray to God. And God’s spirit comes down and reassures them and tells them that the battle is His, not theirs. And on the morning of the impending battle, like a good leader, Jehoshaphat says to his people: Believe in the Lord and you shall be saved. Believe in His prophets and you will succeed. Believe in the Lord and you shall be saved. That’s a powerful request when faced with the probability of annihilation by your enemies. But not only that, believe in His prophets and you will succeed. Imagine being at rock bottom and having someone tell you to believe in God and everything will be okay. That is not only cold comfort in hard times, it is also rather difficult to do when staring into an abyss.

If we look back to Alice and the Unicorn, it might make more sense. Alice to me represents the absolute innocence of humanity in a world that completely lacks any sense whatsoever. Things are topsy turvy and no one is helping Alice find her way back to comfort and safety. I am not going to imply that the unicorn is intended to represent God, but for this sermon, let’s just go with that. With a queen trying to kill everyone, a cat that toys with people for his own amusement, and a world filled with looneys, Alice is beyond lost, and when she sees this magical creature, a spark of hope begins. And this unicorn says it all, “If you believe in me, I’ll believe in you.”

Simple message – easily lost on people.

So we turn to our New Testament reading. Nicodemus, one of the Pharisees, comes to Jesus in the night to express his thoughts that God must be with Jesus because of all the miracles he has performed. After some dialogue, Nicodemus still does not understand the spiritual rebirth that Jesus tells him all must have. Jesus, with some dismay, says that with all the earthly things Nicodemus has seen, he still does not believe, and given that, how will Nicodemus believe when Jesus speaks of the heavenly things. And then we come to the point of the reading. Believe in me and you will have eternal life. The unicorn couldn’t have said it better.
Hearing is easy. Believing is hard. So why believe? Perhaps we might go back to childhood and this guy again – SANTA PIC. We see Santa as kids and think of joy, kindness, love, and peace. We say Santa is for kids, but I disagree. Santa is for adults. For that one day, Santa restores our faith in the world. Santa renews our hope that things will be brighter. In short, we believe in Santa because he believes in us. He doesn’t ask us for anything more.

When I wandered through college, I grew to be faithless and non-believing. It wasn’t because I had learned science and philosophy and so on to replace Jesus. It wasn’t because my days had been filled with more worldly passions which drew me away from God. It was because of the very question you heard me mention earlier – how can I believe in Jesus when I can’t even see him in my daily life? As a college kid, I had gone beyond the simple message and wanted more. I needed to see Jesus and see evidence that he was in my life. I did not know that I saw it all along.

The journey back to Jesus came at one of those abyss moments, like Jehoshaphat faced when the Ammonites and Moabites surrounded him. I won’t go into it, but I learned I didn’t need proof. I just needed to believe. God would take care of the rest. He would believe in me. He would make things better. So the best way to answer the question posed, is this: Believe and look around. Jesus is there in your daily life, believing in you when you eat breakfast, when you play in the yard, when you drive a car, when you spend time with family, and even when you sit alone in quiet times.

LOOK AT THIS PICTURE. (show Jesus picture)
NOW CLOSE YOUR EYES.
YOU ARE STANDING BEFORE JESUS.
YOU CONFESS YOUR BELIEF IN HIM.
AND HE SAYS
“I BELIEVE IN YOU.”
AMEN.

The Martian Child and Adoption Movies

2008-05-27T23:14:00.002-05:00

Lately, adoption has been the topic of some mainstream movies. Juno - and you know how much I love that movie. But also, Martian Child. Never saw it in theatres (and it was panned by most critics). But I finally rented it. Story of a single man adopting a child? Yep, I can relate. Sure the movie is schmaltzy and the child in the movie is far older than my child. But I still saw it there. The quizzical looks at a man who wants to adopt. And then, in classic writer . . . whatever . . . one of those quotes arrives to make me think:

"But right now, you and me, here put together entirely from atoms, sitting on this round rock with a core of liquid iron held down by this force, that so troubles you, called gravity. All the while spinning around the sun at 67,000 miles an hour and whizzing through the milky way at 600,000 miles an hour in a universe that very well may be chasing its own tail at the speed of light. And amidst all this frantic activity fully cognizant of our own imminent demise, which is a very pretty way of saying, "we all know we're gonna die," we reach out to one another. Sometimes for the sake of vanity, sometimes for reasons you're not old enough to understand yet, but a lot of the time we just reach out and expect nothing in return. Isn't that strange? Isn't that weird? Isn't that weird enough?"

And I pondered it for a while. Why do we reach out? It is weird and it is strange. I received a thank you note from a woman at my church today. She has no kids in my youth group (hers, I believe, are long grown up). She is definitely more straight-laced than I am. And she reached out to me. She told me how much everyone is blessed by what I do (her words, not mine). And I thought - WOW! I don't do youth ministry for the accolades and it isn't for the pay. It's to reach out. It's to change one thing or one perspective for someone. And that is weird enough!

Nine in the Afternoon

2008-04-19T22:06:00.003-05:00

It was brought to my attention that I have been lax in my blogging. Well that's typical me - easily sidetracked - this time by a baby. I owe you all a blog and you know what? I seriously cannot think of anything to say. Sometimes, it's time to just go back in time and reminisce. Being back in my old middle school (which is now a high school - which is what it was before it became my middle school), I had a weird energy vibe. Time was all off key - like it was Nine in the Afternoon (pop song title). Or, it could have been the ungodly heat in the auditorium. Sorry, this blog sucked.

Sunday of the Living Dead

2008-03-09T20:02:00.001-05:00

Okay, so I have been a tad busy with work and with raising the baby. Here is a sermon I gave today at church.

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This is one of those sermons. You know the one. The doom and gloom with the message of hope at the end. I know, it’s weird, the preacher telling you in advance what kind of sermon is coming. But it’s sometimes good to know what you are getting into. Every time I have the opportunity to preach to you, I find myself opening the door of my life a little wider to you all and to God. You have learned from past sermons that I am a Star Trek geek. You have learned my favorite bible passage is about jars of clay. You’ve learned that I think the Simpsons is the most religious show on network television. I have yet another confession to make. I really dig zombie movies. Dawn of the Dead, the original one, is probably one of my favorites. I am fascinated by the things that go bump in the night, but I am also fascinated at how deep a message zombie movies offer. Night of the Living Dead is a commentary on racism and racial unity. Dawn of the Dead is a commentary on consumerism and capitalism. Day of the Dead speaks to isolation of the human soul. 28 Days Later is a commentary on our own self-destructive behavior from playing God. Yep, zombie movies have a message.

One of the unique things about zombies, and I apologize for graphic imagery here, is that they usually must consume human flesh. There is never an explanation why, nor an understanding of the how. It just is. The zombies don't seem eat out of hunger, it is just an instinctual and ritualistic reaction. The food doesn't even appear necessary. It's just something to do. Now, as you sit in your pews, slightly uncomfortable as to how I might link zombies and a spiritual message, I have to lay out the plot of the zombie movie. Trust me, it will all come together in the end. First, there is a quiet, normalcy to the beginning of the zombie movie. Life is okay. Nothing strange is going on. Then, one or two odd occurrences pop up. People disappear, strange attacks happen. No one is quite certain what is going on. Then, the big reveal is that zombies are everywhere and they are multiplying. There is still no knowledge of how it happened. Was it a comet? A military experiment? A sign from God? No answers, and the zombies are getting closer to the heroes trapped in a building. Finally, one human takes a chance to change his or her fate and the zombies are vanquished (or so we think).

So where does the spiritual message come in? Well, there's a problem with our faith. Not just at St. Matthew. Not just in Wheaton. It's everywhere. We come to church every Sunday, well, most of us do. Some of us are still the kind of churchgoer I affectionately call a Chreaster - the Christmas and Easter churchgoer. Whatever the season or reason, we go to church because it is what you do on Sunday. We consume the message, as an instinctual and ritualistic reaction. But the message doesn't even appear necessary to us. It's just something to do. We find it hard to incorporate the Word into our lives. We find it hard even to incorporate the sermon into our lives. We go about our business, not quite spiritually dead, but certainly not spiritually alive. We are the spiritual undead. We are the spiritual zombies. Each one of us probably could pinpoint times in our lives when we clearly were spiritually alive, and the times when were spiritually dead. On the path to spiritual zombiehood, we are not quite sure how it happened. It just does. What we begin to realize with this spiritual zombieness is that we are everywhere. We just continue to get larger. We are the Sunday of the Living Dead. We grow apathetic in our faith because it is just there to be consumed every Sunday morning (or Saturday evening, in some churches, whose zombie groups have burst their seams). The Word doesn't nourish us, because it can't. We aren't letting it in. Our apathy and our selfishness in our faith and worship are infectious. In the movies, zombies spread through biting and blood. The spread of spiritual apathy comes much in the same way. We are biting at our fellow members for one reason or another. Blood, the blood of anger and self-focus, tends to flow in congregations from time to time. And that message does spread like an infection. The infected become one of the zombies. The insulated few hide out and wait for their moment to halt the spread of the undead. Or they turn to isolation and departure. This is not good either.

So there it is and now the question becomes "where is that one human who takes a chance to change the fate and vanquish the zombies?" Well, here's the best part, you need only look to today's readings. Talk about an awesome message from our gracious and loving God. In the Valley of Dry Bones, God asks, “Son of Man, can these bones live again?” And in response, “O Sovereign Lord, you alone know.” And then God says that he will bring the bones together, attach flesh, cover them with skin, and breathe life into them. God takes long dead bones, which are just there, doing nothing. He breathes life into them. And they rise. But God says more on that. He calls the bones the whole House of Israel. He likens them to people who are hopeless and in despair. God promises to open up their graves and breathe life into them. He promises them home in Israel. God is calling out. I am here for you. I will breathe my spirit into you and you will live. I will make it better. I am the Lord and this has been prophesied to you.

Now there is something awesome about that. Imagine seeing a field of dead bones come back to life, to reform as humans. God’s Word is all it took. Now, imagine you are in that field today. The raising of the bones is a metaphor too, for God bring hope back into our lives. Don’t sit there and mindlessly consume the message but not hear it. Incorporate the breath of God into your very essence. God will bring your spirit back to life. He will give you that promised land. God can bring you back from the dead. As we draw nearer to Easter, this becomes more important to remember.

God is this river of life where we can truly be satisfied. Our dry bones are hydrated by God’s spirit. Our weary flesh is made young and vibrant again as the Word renews better than botox and collagen ever could.

You also heard today from the Gospel of John about the raising of Lazarus. It is fitting that the Ezekiel passage, which speaks to the resurrection is paired with the resurrection of Lazarus, which also speaks to the resurrection. But to understand this, you need a little background on the Lazarus event. Jesus was friends with Lazarus. But, Jesus is teaching with his disciples when he hears the news that Lazarus is sick. Jesus has just escaped a stoning event in Jerusalem. He is about 20 miles away from Bethany, where Lazarus is, so it is about a day’s journey. You would think with such a friendship with Lazarus, Jesus would have left that day. He did not. No, he waited for two days. By the time Jesus gets to Bethany, Lazarus has been dead for four days. Four days in the Middle Eastern heat. Even with the rush to bury the dead on the day of death, certainly, Lazarus would not have been a fresh-smelling body. Jesus goes to Lazarus’ family and Lazarus’ sisters are grieving. Others are grieving. And Jesus wept.

Not for long though. Shortly thereafter, Jesus calls out to Lazarus. His friend. Someone he cared greatly for. Lazaraus Come Out. And Lazarus does. Covered in grave linens, Lazarus exits his tomb, very much alive. Lazarus was his change of the fate. During Jesus' ministry, it was abundantly clear that the Pharisees and the scribes, and the priests had lost the message. Jesus was not their favorite. Follow the law was all the message the Pharisees could throw out to people. Blind following of Mosaic law. Not helping sick people on the Sabbath because it was against the law. Not eating or talking to certain people because they were unclean. Not handling the dead in any other way than prescribed by law. The resurrection of Lazarus was the final straw for them and they plot to kill Jesus. Talk about spiritual zombies.

I view Lazarus in some ways, as representing humans and their relationship to God in the early days. A close friendship. As I said earlier, Jesus had a close friendship with Lazarus, a human friendship. He was saddened by that loss; he cried. But he calls Lazarus back. Brings him back. Resurrects him. That is an awesome message. And Jesus weeps for us when we turn away or let things interfere with his reach toward us. But he calls us. He resurrects our connection to him. He brings us back to the faith and back to life.

Now you have God renewing our dry bones with the quenching spirit of life and Jesus calling us back to spiritual life. This is a wondrous thing. But this resurrection of faith and spirit is not a call to go back to the way it was. I watched a Nooma video this week with our Crazies. The message was about Jesus appearing to Mary Magdalene after his resurrection. Mary, upon realizing that it is Jesus standing next to her, calls out “Rabbouini” - teacher and moves to hold him. Jesus’ first words then are “Don’t hold on to me.” Upon seeing her teacher back from the dead, she should be overjoyed, but Jesus wants her to go forth and tell the others, not to sit there and hold on to him. Take that message to heart with the renewal of faith, this end to spiritual undeadness – Don’t hold on to things past. Go forth. Renewed. Faithful. Spiritually alive.

Let us pray. Gracious and loving God, you call us each day to be your faithful. We stray. We stagnate. We sidestep. Renew us again with your living spirit, that we may be hydrated with the Word and be called by Jesus to come by his side. In your name we pray, AMEN.

Blogging Advance, now with iron and DHA

2008-01-07T22:36:00.000-06:00

I have made so much formula that I am beginning to see that stupid Similac (trademark property) teddy bear in my sleep. And did I mention that formula smells digusting, even before it is consumed (it tastes okay - yes, I tasted the food that I feed my daughter, so sue me). If I could have asked for unique parenting advice (not the colds, colic, and other factoids), I would have asked someone to let me know that formula smells bad.

Grace is testing out a few nights of sleeping at 5-6 hour stretches. This is her idea, not mine, but believe me I am not complaining (yet). I hope it is a routine, but I know it is a fluke.

Fatherhood is not like I expected (it's much better). Yeah, I don't sleep much and I wear pajamas all day, but Grace rocks. She's like my banjo playing, which is good since I am just learning and am rather bad at it. She likes this CD by a guy named Kirk Moore. If you have the chance, you should go to iTunes and download (legally) his songs (shameless plug, I know, but she really does dig the Cheese Song).

Enough with the pink. I like pink. It's a good color. But trust me, there are over 200 other colors in the world. Grace looks good in green and yellow and tan and blue. Red? Eh, it makes her spit up. Of course that could just be from the smell of formula. Drop by some time to visit us (if you know me).

Baby Baby - Amy Grant Songs

2007-12-18T21:52:00.000-06:00

Grace Abigail McCumber
December 15, 2007
4:56 p.m. PST

7lbs. 15 oz.
21 1/2 inches long
brown hair

She's beautiful.
I cry more than she does.
I love her dearly.
Pictures coming soon.

(bad attempt at Haiku, but I am sleepy).

Baby Photo

2007-12-14T00:03:00.000-06:00

Here is the first pic of the baby to be. Still no idea about gender.

Say It Ain't So, Joe

2007-12-13T23:56:00.000-06:00

Disgusted. Dismayed. Not surprised. The Mitchell Report is out and tons of baseball players were named as part of the steroid scandal. What a terrible example to our youth. The only way to be the best is by cheating. By using drugs that will destroy your body. By lying. Great example from our national pastime. How can I sit in judgment? Easy, because professional sports have gotten way out of hand. I am ready to boycott baseball again. It hurts my feelings to know this, more than a 50 million dollar deal for a Japanese baseball player. Get a grip, pros. We can't afford to see you play anymore. And why would I want to see a bunch of cheaters. I'd rather watch a little league game. At least then, the only assholes there are poor-sport parents. I remember it used to be for the love of the game. I hope it gets back there again soon.

Oprah for President

2007-12-10T14:33:00.000-06:00

Oprah did her big speech endorsing Barrack Obama. Much like a Jonathan Franzen novel, Oprah has said that Obama is her President of the month. Oprah's a powerful voice. Why I will never actually know (much like why we will never know how twinkies stay fresh forever), but she can convince the unconvinceable that something is good.

It got the little cogs of my brain working overtime. Could we actually ever elect the uber-minority President? Black, female, lesbian? Are we ready for it? And then it hit me. Why waste the time being the voice behind the curtain - Oprah, throw your beautiful nubiosity into the POTUS ring. She needs a spouse though, because Americans are not ready for a bachelor(ette) President. Could we handle Stedman, the First Lady? I dunno, but I wanted to take the time to imagine the world with Oprah as POTUS.

First and foremost, Oprah is totally qualified. I mean, she has obviously shaped public policy with her wisdom and leadership. And big business better watch out, look what she did to the Texas Beef Group. Lest we not forget her welfare program ideas - what homeless person wouldn't want a brand new Pontiac G-6. It's also great for single parents who need to run to the store to get milk in style. And economic policy, one only need look at her generosity with the cars - talk about fiscal responsiblity, this woman knows how to stretch a dollar.

Second, she already has a great cabinet in mind. Oprah & Friends would be fantastic. White House Press Secretary Gayle King. Secretary of State (and foreign affairs genius) Dr. Phil. Federal Reserve Chairwoman Jean Chatzky would put this country on a wonderful debt diet - we'll be whipped into shape in no time. Presidential Physical Fitness guy Bob Greene - ooh, gorgeous, physical - women would run laps for him. Dr. Maya Angelou (sorry, not even I can poke fun at her) as Secretary of Defense. Dr. Oz as Surgeon General (no "friends of dorothy" jokes, please - this is serious journalism).

Third, people love her. Much like the student union elections of our youth, the US Presidency is really just a popularity contest. OMG, everyone knows Oprah. Do you think Puty-Put Putin would dare do anything that might piss O off? No way, he'd be in the studio audience in no time with a lot of 'splainin to do. Coalition forces would bring peace everywhere because Oprah says so.

And here are some other minor reasons. She already has her own show. No more interrupting Heroes or Deal or No Deal or America's Got Talent. Oprah's already on 5 days a week. Talk about a President who would really reach us. And hey, with her readership of O and O at Home, nationwide referenda could be held to repeal that silly "no white after Labor Day" rule. Did I mention the lesbian thing? Shh, I think we can all wink to that! She covers the hard-hitting issues that I care about: "Is peace for real?," "Bobbi Brown's make-up tips," and "cooking on a budget." This is presidential material.

So, keep your Obamas and Clintons and Romneys (oh my!). In 2008, I'm voting for the big O.

The Music War

2007-11-25T23:15:00.000-06:00

It's funny how music can start a fight. Believe it or not, religious music can start a fight. Or rather, the people who make the music start the fight. I am part of the United Church of Christ, whose motto is - Wherever you are on life's journey, you're welcome here. At our church, it is becoming more, "you're welcome here, as long as you don't wear jeans but like 300-year-old hymns, all others need not attend." I am a jeans guy (I wear suits all week). I know there is supposedly some concept that respect for God means you wear a suit. However, I don't recall Jesus wearing a tie or loafers. Anyways, the music war raged today, with our music director fighting the praise band. It was awful, and the worst part about is that people lost sight of why music ministry matters. There is line from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade that sticks with me ("Why do you seek the Cup of Christ? Is it for His glory or for yours?") Why do you do music ministry? Is it for His glory or for yours? The war reminded me of a speech I gave during my senior year in high school for a choir scholarship I received (we were in Gulf War I at the time):

Music.
A collection of tones and sounds and words.
An interplay of melody and harmony.
The movement and measure of our existence.
There is so much that music brings us.
Music stirs the soul and touches the wellspring of emotion.
Music moves us in battle, but encourages us to find peace.
Music tells of the love for another.
Music honors those we have lost through the years.
Music brings forth a smile and laugh.
Music covers the heartache and sometimes the tears.
Music is hope and wisdom and faith.
Music unifies people behind a common song.
I could not imagine a world without music.
No songs to be sung.
No horns to blast a brassy tune.
No strings to soothe the savage beast.
No beat and rhythm to which the pace of life is set.
When I was younger, orchestras, bands, minstrels would play in my head.
Now that I am older, I make music.
With every breath, an opus for all time.
Music.
A bit of us all that makes something better and greater.
(the rest is the thanks for the scholarship stuff)

I hope people read this and see God and music in a new light.

Ch-ch-changes (and other song lyrics)

2007-11-25T23:05:00.000-06:00

Two weeks ago, I learned that I am going to be a dad. Yep, the call came in and here it is - two weeks (or so) till birth. I am scared. I am elated. I am nervous. I am confused. I am joyful. I get the honor of adopting a child, raising it as my own. Most people are supportive, as they would be, because hey - they aren't raising the child. Some people are confused (why I would do this, what is my sexuality, all that). One person is against it - mom. Yep, my mom is not okay with this. She has her reasons and I acknowledge them (I don't agree with them). So, as December 5th draws nearer, I wait. I could write a thousand more things about that, but I need time to soak it all in.

My senior pastor is leaving to accept a call at a church in Ohio. Last year at this time, our associate pastor took a senior pastor call. I miss his leadership. Our senior pastor's leadership is different to me, but no less important. I stepped up as youth minister. There ain't no way I am stepping up any higher (and thankfully, there is a plan for that - yay!)

I saw "Fred Claus" today. Was it cheesy and predictable? Yeah. And you know what, I liked it. Vince Vaughn is a comic genius (and producer of this movie). It made me happy to think about the Santa story in a new light.

That's it - no more rambling, especially since I watched "America's Most Smartest Model" (and wondered why I even own a tv anymore).

National Youth Workers Convention - Part 1

2007-11-04T11:19:00.000-06:00

Okay, so for two and a half days, I have been soaking in the atmosphere and rocking nature of the convention. Here are some things I have learned in St. Louis:

1) While I dress like most other youth workers, I do not have the obligatory chin forest that some male youth workers have. It's not a goatee, but rather a bearded concept like Scott Ian of Anthrax. In fact, I think Scott Ian of Anthrax is here (or his brother).

2) There are a lot of Methodists in youth ministry. Yes, 3 of out every 4 youth workers I have met are from the United Methodist Church. That is not a bad thing, just a curious fact. I did find some UCC people. They are easy to spot, even in youth worker crowds.

3) The music rocks. I have seen great bands so far: Flatfoot 56, David Crowder Band, Matt Maher, Jars of Clay, Aieysha Woods, Family Force 5. Wow, talk about some diverse music. Amazing.

4) The speakers are good. Some are amazing. Some are okay. One was a tad repetitive and boring. But, that doesn't mean I am any better. Speaking of which, this morning (Sunday morning), I ended up leading a seminar on Middle School Ministry. It wasn't organized or planned out. However, it was weird to take some youth workers through an awkward topic (What do I do to make youth ministry work?) The best speaker, and most humbling, was Zach Hunter (the 15 year old abolitionist). Yes, I learned the most from the kid. The person who represents what our ministry is all about and has inspired me to encourage the souls of these kids.

So that is just a brief glimpse into the first few days. I will blog a bit more tonight about stuff. Tune in for more - or don't - it's Sunday and you should try to enjoy it.

PS: It was Sleep Out Saturday this past Saturday (where our youth at St. Matthew raised money for homelessness programs and slept out in the cold to understand the problem). 13 kids, 4 adults, and $3,000.00. Talk about coming together to serve, but more importantly to enjoy and appreciate God's message for us - LOVE GOD and LOVE OUR NEIGHBORS AS OURSELVES).

Truthfully

2007-09-02T19:59:00.000-05:00

Okay, so I was going through my CD collection (which after working for radio station, is somewhat vast). Of course, I found an old album by one of my favorite artists - Lisa Loeb. The song is called "Truthfully." It's a love song, but when I listened to the lyrics, I found that it really defines how I view my relationship with Jesus. Here's the lyrics:

This isn’t what I like to call flattery,
But I know that I believe that I’ve found what’s true,
That I’ve found what’s you.
Truthfully i
I’m finding finally.
Truthfully you
You helped me find at last.
Truthfully we
Are finding out what’s true.
And truthfully I am finding out what’s you.
Surprise, cause I was flying the plane.
Surprise, cause now I’m smiling again.
Surprise, cause you showed up with your parachute.
Surprise, I’m kind of happy you showed up.
Truthfully i
I’m finding finally.
Truthfully you
You helped me find at last.
Truthfully we
Are finding out what’s true.
And truthfully I am finding out what’s you.
Truthfully, I really can’t explain, I’m floating, I’m smiling again.
Truthfully, I can’t ignore you, cause I’ve been waiting for you.
Truthfully, I’m not desperate, I haven’t changed my mind since we first met,
But the last thing that I want to do is to tell you that I’m right for you.
Truthfully i
I’m finding finally.
Truthfully you
You helped me find at last.
Truthfully we
Are finding out what’s true.
And truthfully I am finding out what’s you.
I’m finding finally.
Truthfully, I’m finding out what’s you.
I’m smiling again.
Truthfully

So, when I think of being lost and aimless, I know that Jesus is always waiting and finding ways to help me find out the truth. And He's right there waiting. How awesome is that?

When Jesus and Potter Meet

2007-08-26T22:48:00.000-05:00

So last weekend, we had a lock-in at church and we watched the Harry Potter movie quintology (don't ask where the 5th movie came from). Anyways, in the stupor of minimal sleep, the youth and I came up with "Hogwarts High School Musical." Over the next few weeks (as I have time), I will post the new songs (which are just Disney High School Musical lyrics with a Hogwarts twist - please, movie companies - don't sue because this is a parody):

WE'RE ALL AT HOGWARTS TOGETHER
Together, together, together everyone
Together, together, come on lets have some fun
Together, we're there for each other every time
Together together come on lets do this right

Here and now its time for celebration
We took Voldemort out (yeah yeah)
That all the death eaters are in incarceration
That's what its all about(yeah yeah)

All four houses are special in their own way
We make each other strong (we make each other strong)
We're not the same
We're different in a good way
Hogwarts is where we belong

We're all in this together
Once we know
That we are
We're all stars
And we see that
We're all in this together
And it shows
When we stand
Wand in hand
Magic dreams do come true

Together, together, together everyone
Together, together, come on lets have some fun
Together, we're there for each other every time
Together together come on lets do this right

Wizards here
and speaking out with one voice
Elves will rock the house (YEAH YEAH!)
the party's on now, muggles make some noise
come on scream and shout

We've arrived becuase we stuck together
Champions one and all

We're all in this together
Once we know
That we are
We're all stars
And we see that
We're all in this together
And it shows
When we stand
Wand in hand
Magic dreams do come true

We're all in this together
On our brooms
We can fly
Know inside
We can make it
We're all in this toghether
Once we see
Theres a chance
That we have
And we take it

Hufflepuffs sing along
Yeah, you really got it goin' on
Ravenclaws in the house
Everybody say it now
Slytherins everywhere
Wave your hands up in the air
That's the way we do it
Gryffindors
Time to show the world

We're all in this together
Once we know
That we are
We're all stars
And we see that
We're all in this together
And it shows
When we stand
Wand in hand
Magic dreams do come true

We're all in this together
On our brooms
We can fly
Know inside
We can make it
We're all in this together
Once we see
Theres a chance
That we have
And we take it

Potions masters everywhere
Wave your hands up in the air
That's the way we do it
Let's get to it
Come on everyone!

Hippos

2007-08-01T12:51:00.000-05:00

I have learned in my many years to never underestimate the value of hippos. They make you laugh, especially when they sing. Don't believe me? Check this out:
www.ebaumsworld.com/flash/hipponoodles.html

Heifer Ranch

2007-07-31T08:40:00.000-05:00

On July 22, 2007, 11 youth and 5 adults departed from church to begin the long journey to Heifer Ranch, part of the Heifer Project International. We drove to St. Louis, our first stopover on the way, to assist Pilgrim Congregational Church with their summer urban outreach program. We set up the service in Visitors Park and listened to some wonderful music at an ecumenical service with the UCC, the Church of Christ, and the Presbyterian Church. We then spent the night at Pilgrim Congregational Church before we began the rest of our journey to Heifer.

Shortly before arriving at Heifer, we were delayed by some serious car accidents on I-40, which delayed traffic. Late Monday evening, we arrived at what is affectionately known as the Heifer Hilton, where we spent the night before heading to customs. Well-rested, we loaded up into our hayride to customs to begin our journey. When we arrived, we faced harsh airport officials, stolen luggage, and long delays. Our youth were sent to different regions; some of us arrived in the Mississippi Delta region of the United States, some landed in Tibet, and the rest of our youth were sent to Mozambique.

One of the difficulties we faced was the segregation of our group. Would we still have a good mission trip if we were all in different villages? What about this other church that was also split up with us? Yes, we shared our experience with Fieldon United Church of Christ, in Fieldon, Illinois (outside of East St. Louis). When we arrived at our villages, the St. Matthew Tibetans were assigned to the upper class (living in a well-constructed, albeit warm, yurt), as were the St. Matthew Mozambiqans (living in a multi-room brick home). The remaining St. Matthew Mississippi Deltans and I were assigned to the lower class (living in an abandoned school bus with a tin covered kitchen attachment).

On the first day, we worked our fields or tended to our animals or simply learned about our own family and our neighboring family. We were allotted a certain amount of supplies, given recipes, and we made dinner from the region. The second day was more intense. We work up early and completed our chores. Then it was time to work, since we would need food for lunch, which had to be purchased at the market. Unfortunately, every family faced some disease or affliction which severely cut into that income. Lunch was sparse and people began to realize what having no food may feel like. The Mozambiqans faced a different challenge. Not ordinarily having meat in their diet, they were blessed by finding a lost rabbit and capturing it. The decision had to be made – save the rabbit or save the family by eating the rabbit. After a long, long debate, the family, by consensus, decided to take the rabbit to the market to be butchered. We learned about power and control after lunch, but during our lesson, the unthinkable happened. A flood ripped through Mozambique, destroying possessions and bringing disease to the lower class Mozambiqans. We returned to our villages to come up with ideas to help them. Many of us wanted to take in refugees, but resources were scarce and money was short. So we began relief fundraising – by making jewelry, by giving tours of our regions, by working in the fields for extra pay. Slowly, the Mozambiqans were saved.

On the third, and final full day, we began the day much like the second day – chores and work and lunch. Before lunch, we were taught how to make cheese, which provided a very nice mid-day snack until lunch. Lunch was a tad different because all villages came to the market and we could trade with them. The Mississippi Deltans, who appeared to have more, traded well for sugar (a huge luxury) and as a result, had a decent sweet cake dessert with their lunch. After lunch, we learned about development projects and began to work on them: the Tibetans learned about building a solar powered electric fence to pen their animals to prevent overgrazing; the Mozambiqans worked with another village to pass on their knowledge of rabbit-raising and passed on one of their rabbits; and the Deltans developed a program to supply their own meat and produce to the local school system, thus improving the health of local children and keeping money invested in the community. The entire Ranch ate a meal prepared by the Deltans and all were treated to a special helping of goat-milk ice cream.

The fourth day was our departure day. We were all tired and hungry (and dirty from the lack of showers). But we captured what we learned and planned ways to spread the word about Heifer Ranch. We said prayers for the actual suffering in Zimbabwe. We prayed for the bond that had developed between St. Matthew and Fieldon UCC churches. And we packed up for the Heifer Hilton and the first shower we would have in days. Our youth had a joyous time and learned an incredible amount about combating hunger and poverty. As we journeyed home, we made a stop in St. Louis and took in the Arch. No one stopped talking about their experience the whole ride home.

Hiya

2007-07-29T23:58:00.000-05:00

Hey all . . .
I know it has been about forever since I last dropped you a line. I have been a tad busy. A trial or two here and there at work eats into free time because it requires longer hours, which cuts into chores/required stuff outside of work, which reduces free time. I also just got back from my first mission trip as a leader. St. Matthew took 11 youth (2 of whom from another church) and 5 leaders to Heifer Ranch in Perryville, Arkansas. Talk about an adventure (we will in another blog soon). Then there is youth group (we are doing monthly movies on Sundays - today, the youth group saw the Simpsons Movie [yes, the parents knew about it].) I am a tad overwhelmed with all I have taken in over the last month. Youth Sunday is two weeks away so that is a busy planning time period. And next Sunday, I am preaching about clay vessels. I have lots to say, but until then . . . may God shine his face upon you always.

Why Do We Leave Our Hand on the Stove?

2007-06-27T23:02:00.000-05:00

Cages or wings? Which do you prefer? Have you shackled your own self to conceptual versions of reality that you clung to once but no longer wish to envision anymore? Not really sure where I am going with these thoughts, but I can certainly tell you that I am enjoying the challenges of this round of self-discovery. In part because it's actual self-re-discovery for me. In part because I have had some really intellectual and sarcastic conversations with people I know. Seminary class (on the parables of Jesus) has also pulled a spiritual growth for me into the mix. All in all, when I clear my head, I won't be some monstrosity to fear. I will likely be a little different, but my personality has not and will not change. Sean remains through it all. What is even better is that I have been writing more. I spent time with my high school choir teacher and we jotted out this cool piano duet (I may play it at church sometime because it blends two cool styles - my teacher writes connectively whereas I write radially). Anyways, I miss my youth group - I haven't led youth group since June 13, and with holidays and family camp, we won't have youth group until July 18. It was suggested that we go see Evan Almighty this weekend - we may do that.

Fear or love, baby - don't say the answer. Actions speak louder than words!

Jump Back to Me Anytime

2007-06-10T22:35:00.000-05:00

A lot has been weighing on me lately. Crazy trial schedules and appointments as the lawyer for children. Youth group imploded and I let it happen - cost me some youth - but nothing is perfect (and I expected that I would have a flop youth meeting at least once this year). My family is still family with all the quirks that they have. And with all that, I am still trying to figure out who I am. I hit a point in life where I needed to redefine. I think that is what makes my job with youth ministry a bit easier - the youth are all finding themselves and where they are going in life. I have the benefit of my years of experience to guide me. So, when we all talk, they get a sense that I know what they are going through.

I sat down and gave a more thoughtful prayer than I usually do. I don't do formal prayers, outside of church. I pray as I go, praise as it happens, reach out as the event is occuring. I imagine God saying, "Sean, breathe. Take a moment, write it all down, then call me." It's just me - impatience is something that's part of me. It's not that I don't know how to wait. I just want to move forward on it if I can. I wrote this one down and asked God to shine a little light on things for me - give me a general idea where to take things. He hasn't let me down so far in my life, so it's a safe bet I won't be lead astray.

Anyways, this wasn't meant to be a preachy blog or even a prayerful one. It's a placeholder to remind me to get myself back on track. Trials come and go. Youth meetings should flow, not be carved out. Family is a good thing. It's a reminder that I have something to do still - and when I figure it all out, it will be a pretty cool picture. I just wish that one friend was there to give me the "cheerleading" words that I used to get from him. I miss that.

Weird Facts Return

2007-04-30T23:09:00.000-05:00

Every so often, I post a list of weird/odd/strange facts (and add my personal commentary to those facts). Hey, I admit that I am a huge nerd with an unusual amount of spare time on my hands (given my activity schedule). So, here goes:

Scientists believe that a meat-eating plant lives underground with no direct sunlight. (This just in - scientists believe that the moon is made of green cheese)

Monkeys fling feces at each other when agitated. (Which is where we get the phrase "throwing a shit fit")

Yawns are a way of communication. They don't signal that you are tired, but rather you want to do something different now. (Like reading another blog)

Killer whales capture fish by slapping them. (Funny, that's how I keep people away from me)

A shrimp's heart is in its head. (Republicans' heads are in their butts)

A ducks quack doesn't echo, and no one knows why. (LIAR! Mythbusters busted this!!!!)

A cockroach can live for several weeks without its head. (So can Republicans)

Elephants can't jump. (Did anyone ever think they could, c'mon)

The oldest piece of chewing gum is 9000 years old. (Eve had to have something after the apple)

More Monopoly money is printed in a year, than real money printed throughout the world. (And real money is spent just like monopoly money - nothing backing it and we can just print more later or steal it from the bank)

The microwave was invented after a researcher walked by a radar tube and a chocolate bar melted in his pocket. (Sadly though, he no longer could reproduce after that discovery)

Walt Disney was afraid of mice. (and Jews)

Ted Turner owns 5 percent of New Mexico. (Half of which went to Jane Fonda in the divorce)

Polar bears are left-handed. (The scientist who found this out is dead, and was related to the inventor of the microwave)

Intelligent people have more zinc and copper in their hair. (Because we eat pennies)

Mark Twain didn't graduate from elementary school. (Neither did George Bush, what's your point?)

A donkey will sink in quicksand but a mule won't. (Who is experimenting with animals in this way?)

No piece of paper can be folded in half more than seven (7) times. (Go ahead and do it, the blog will be here when you get back)

Donkeys kill more people annually than plane crashes. (Unless you crash near quicksand, then you will be fine)

Sooner or Later

2007-04-22T22:37:00.000-05:00

lyrics by Michael Tolcher:

"Pull the hair back from your eyes
Let the people see your pretty face
Try not to say anything weird
Save your questions without answers
'Til your old enough to know that things ain't as they appeared

Before you go out in the sun
Cover your skin and don't get burned
Beware the cancer, it might kill you when you're old

Be first in line, raise your hand
Remember everything you hear
And playing in the rain is worth catching cold

We only want what's best for you
That's why we tell you what to do
And nevermind if nothing makes sense

'Cause it all works out in the end
You're just like us without a friend
But you can build a privacy fence Yeah

Somethings you have to learn them all on your own
You can't rely on anybody else
Or the point of view of a source unknown
If it feels good and sounds nice
Then it's your choice don't doubt yourself
Don't even think twice

Pull the hair back from your eyes
Let the people see your pretty face
You know they like it when you smile Find a reason to smile

Try not to focus on yourself
Share that love with someone else
Don't let the bitters bring you down
Don't let anything bring you down"

This song has been running through my head the past week. I listen to it and think about the advice I have always gotten from adults in my life when I was much younger. And I remember thinking, 'what do they know' or 'why won't they just answer me,' and it bugged me. Sometimes adults would give me platitudes, such as 'you'll know when you are older.' Well, I am older, and guess what, I still don't know. I don't know why bad things still happen. I don't know why people focus on hurting others with words or weapons. I don't know what I am quick to anger the moment I get behind the wheel of a car.

Sometimes adults, especially my mom, would give me blanket advice, like 'never let anyone tell you that you can't.' Yep, hold my head high and stand strong in the face of objections, ridicule, pressure, arrogance, or anger. It's tough when someone calls you out and tells you they think you got it all wrong, or when they flat out disagree, or when they try to convince you of something other than what you believe. Kinda difficult to do, but I keep this quote close to my heart, 'character means standing up for something, even it means you stand alone.'

Then, when I was in college, I joined a fraternity. I was a youngster, and an older member in the house, when I was particularly stressed about soccer, school, and the house, sat me down and showed me a plaque that his dad gave him. It carried this simple message: IN THE RACE TO BE BETTER OR BEST, DO NOT MISS THE JOY OF BEING. Of all the advice I have gotten, most of it became hardwired into who I am (manners, compassion, measure twice cut once, and so on), this nugget is something I have to remind myself of. It is easy to get wrapped up in the pursuits of life, but what really matters is this wonderful gift of just being alive. And we didn't have to do anything to get it. It came free.

So, sooner or later, we will find the answer to everything. Sooner or later, we will think about one another. Sooner or later, we will figure out just who we are. And sooner or later, I will stop yelling when I am driving.

West Side Story

2007-04-19T10:46:00.000-05:00

Last night at youth group, we were talking about social justice, changing the world, and being good to one another. Well, the kids discussed the problem of a rivalry that has been brewing between two high schools in the area - North and South. Jokingly, because the town where we all live is very suburban, I joked about West Side Story and the rivalry in that movie between the Jets and the Sharks. But, it has turned somewhat serious. One side is mad at the other side over what may have been a fight over a girl - you know, typical anger issues for teens. But is has escalated into a mob of one school vs. a mob of the other. Last week, these schools had some sort of altercation that resulted for certain with one child going to the emergency room due to a broken tooth.

We often think that suburbia is immune from "gang" violence. That "it couldn't happen here" mentality rises up. But, it does happen. Two years ago, a young man from the St. Charles area was killed in a fight between two rival schools. We enrobe ourselves with the false comfort that our children do not act like the children we read about in urban areas. We think we are immune to violence and evil.

My questions are simple (and I have the luxury of asking, since I don't have any kids yet and it's my blog):
1) Where are the parents? When the first incident occurred, did the parents just gloss over it?
2) Where are the school administrators? Are they even aware of this problem? Were they too engrossed in the school board elections?
3) Where was I? I have youth from both schools in youth group. I first learned of it last night. Was there something I missed? I don't think any of the youth from our youth group are involved, but jeez, were my blinders on too?

I hope that the youth who read this will think before they engage in violence, and they will choose restraint over reaction, and that they will come to the adults in their lives for guidance. I have visited a youth in the hospital because of illness; I certainly do not want to visit a youth in the hospital because of senseless violence.

Say What?

2007-04-17T00:08:00.000-05:00

Once upon a time (when I was in law school), I worked as a DJ at a radio station. The most fun thing on the 3 am shift was to answer requests from people who could only quote (in an inaccurate way) lyrics to the song. My favorites misstated lyrics included: "Once more it's a naked love" (Pride - In the Name of Love by U2); "Another turnip, boy, a Ford stuck in the road" (Time of Your Life by Green Day); and "Bought an old house on the dance floor" (Old Apartment by Barenaked Ladies). There are tons more and if you want to have a good laugh, go check out http://kissthisguy.com. It is a website diarying misheard lyrics. Where did the title come from? Purple Haze by Jimi Hendrix. The actual lyric is "Excuse me while I kiss the sky." It is often misheard, and oddly misheard, as "Excuse me, while I kiss this guy."

Language is a very funny thing. Conveys emotions. Memorializes history. Directs us to do or not do certain things. And when language is misheard or misinterpreted, it can lead to the following: war, theft, anger, death, mistrust, and isolation. I wish that only humor resulted from misheard language. I wish that George Bush wouldn't mishear Congress' call for an end date in Iraq. I wish that other nations wouldn't mishear our words to imply that we want to run the world. I wish that my words would not be misheard - when I say Guantanamo is wrong, I do not mean that we should not protect our country. What I mean is that no person should be deprived of life or liberty without due process of law (see our 5th Amendment to the US Constitution). Person means any person, not just a citizen of the US.

I wish that Scripture wasn't misheard to suggest that God condones violence in the name of religion. As my pastor has told me, and I desparately try to follow, the two greatest commandments are: Love God with all your heart, mind, soul, and body; and Love your neighbor as yourself. Sadly, even these commandments are misheard.

In the mean time, bum around the misheard lyrics website and have a laugh today.

Holy Spirit, Batman

2007-04-16T23:42:00.000-05:00

When I was a tad younger, I loved to watch repeats of the Batman TV series, which, although I am old, was in reruns while I was watching. Aside from the overacting, odd villians, and cartoon "kapows," I remember Robin always saying "Holy [something], Batman." It was usually tied to something they encountered, such as if they were fighting at a fashion show and a crew of thugs came in, Robin would quip, "Holy Runway Models, Batman." Now, as I am rambling on, there is a point.

This week at confirmation, we have been teaching the Book of Acts, also referred to as the Acts of the Apostles. This is the foundation and story of the early church. It is hard to wrap my mind around how it must have been in those early days, how difficult to gather everyone together and teach. But, I am thinking of the Holy Spirit and how it plays the center role in the early church. Pentecost - universal translating the language, baptism by fire, yup that's the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit somehow gets forgotten in the shuffle. The triune God, three parts of one whole - where would God be without God, the Holy Spirit. Called the giver of life.

What does the Holy Spirit mean to us? I wish I could answer that in a truly meaningful way. Sadly, I just don't know about the Holy Spirit. We often overlook the role of the Holy Spirit in the Trinity. To be honest, as I said, I really only think of the Holy Spirit in the story of Pentecost, or when I recite the Apostles' Creed, or when the dove descends upon Jesus. I remember in art history that the Holy Spirit is portrayed as a dove. Hardly a true understanding of the Holy Spirit. What do I do then? I think I will utter the words, "Holy Spirit, Batman" and take this year to study the Holy Spirit and what it means to my faith. Jeepers, I will just have to figure out where to begin.

The Calling

2007-04-04T22:00:00.000-05:00

Okay, it was Pack the Place Night tonight at youth group, and we had a boatload of kids. Why is this important? Well, I had to make sure the kids were well supervised, which means I didn't have my cell phone on me. So, at 5:37 pm (yes, that is what the voicemail said), Open Adoption & Family Services in Seattle called me to let me know that they have a screening call for me. This means that the potential baby could be: a) a girl, b) the child of birthmother who used drugs or alcohol, c) of a different ethnicity, or d) I don't know. Am I excited? Totally, this is the first step in a possible adoption - very cool feeling. However, part of me is still keeping my cards close to the vest - no need to build up my hopes for something that is nebulous right now. Things often happen when you least expect it. Some cliches never go out of style.

No matter how hard I try, I keep imagining the whole dad thing going on. Baseball games, parenting, babyproofing a house, and so on. What about a name? I know I had said "Benjamin Adam" if it's a boy. However, I like the name "Joshua Adam" for a boy, so that is what I am naming him. If it's a girl, I am going with "Bailey Abigail."

But for now, I play the waiting game. And, after the screening call, it could still turn out that this birthmother or birthparents pick another person or couple. Say a prayer for me.

What I Learned from Kids Today

2007-03-21T21:49:00.000-05:00

So today at youth group, where I am the "fearless" leader, we did "Your Questions Answered" - a lesson borrowed from our former Youth Pastor (and valued mentor). The youth submitted questions for me to answer (as best as I can). Many were silly questions about my past and who I am, which is okay, because who wouldn't want to know that my favorite color is purple and that I am afraid of bats. But there were some deeper questions: why is patriotism good; why does God love us unconditionally; is emotional pain good; how can we know truly what God wants for us. These were some great questions, and we spurred some great discussions.

One question troubled the middle school and high school youth. According to a recent survey (see "The Group"), 85% of youth will cease attending church by the time they are in their junior year of college. I told that stat to the youth and they expressed their disbelief. I asked them whether they thought they would leave the church in college and how they would try to maintain their faith. It was an interesting discussion. Some of the youth even promised that they would still come to youth group while in college. It is a noble aspiration, but I fear that percentage number may have some validity. In thinking about it, my question might be better addressed to the adults - what will you do help the youth maintain their faith . . .

Interesting thought

And thus ends another year

2007-03-04T21:24:00.000-06:00

Yep, once again, Mock Trial is over. We finished in the Elite Eight at State this year, but did not place in the top 3. Is that okay? I think it is. I think mock trial is about teaching students about our system of government and judiciary. It's about understanding what we do. It's about meeting other students. Somehow, that message got lost this year. Somehow, pride and vanity and envy took center stage. It was sad to see my senior students in tears, partly because it was their last year, but partly because they didn't advance further. However, the fact remains that, in my three years as coach with two other fine attorneys, the team has taken themselves to the Elite Eight each of those years. That's a measure of their dedication. To denigrate that by mourning the absence of "First Place" makes me feel that we taught nothing. Then again, I am the teacher coach, not the fun coach or the father coach, so it stands to reason that I did my job and filled my duties. I have sincere doubts that I will coach next year. It's too straining on me.

Trying to Catch the Deluge in a Paper Cup

2007-01-30T12:21:00.000-06:00

Water - the chemical composition consisting of two atoms of hydrogen and one atom of oxygen.

Water - one of the building blocks of life.

Water - a cool refreshing drink.

Water - a destructive chemical that can corrode and dissolve, and in greater quantities, destroy everything in its path.

Water - a metaphor for faith, spirit, and belief.

Funny how something so simple like water can be so many things to so many people. Funny how the lack of it can be so many things to so many people. Something I have pondered of late to be quite honest, the water as faith metaphor. Can too much faith be dangerous? Does stagnant faith corrode and dissolve the soul? How do we look at our faith? A burden? A duty? A blessing? Not at all? Do we share that faith with others who thirst? Hmm . . . I may have to stick to blogging about swear words and bad drivers - the questions are easier to answer there.

Short Stories and other Idiocracies

2007-01-28T18:16:00.000-06:00

Over the years, I have written short stories, mostly because of creative writing courses. They started out as random mutterings, but have evolved over the years into personal reflections on my life or on where I want my life or just funny stories (at least I like them). They sit in a computer folder call "Me Fail English? That's unpossible." Yep - a line from a Simpsons episode defines my literary talent (or lack thereof). So, without further ado, I post one of my stories here:

FAITH

“Are you their God? I need help,” I prayed, “I am graduating in four weeks and I am completely clueless. What am I supposed to do?” I really was clueless. What was I going to do with a biology degree? Grad school? It was a possibility.

Isn’t funny how when we are in deepest need or saddest times, we call on God to be there? When things are going well, we hardly say a word to Him. And when we feel cheated or hurt, we blame Him for what is going on around us. Not once does God ever argue back, punish us, or do anything other than love us all the more. I never gave much thought to that, but when I look at it, who else would take the shit with throw at Him and still be there for us.

“What can I do for you Nick,” asked a voice.

“Who’s there,” I responded.

The voice bellowed, “You ask if I am here and say that you need help. Then you ask who is talking back to you.”

“God,” I inquired, not really sure that I wanted an answer.

“Last time I checked, but then again I don’t really need a mirror,” laughed God.

“Holy shit, I’m fucking losing it,” I thought.

“No, you are doing just fine. Your language is a little rough, but I think I can handle it,” God replied.

Ordinarily, I never believed those kooks on the street or even preachers who claim that God has spoken to them. Now, here I am, conversing with someone who says He is God. I have lost my mind. Or, I am way too drunk for my brain to function normally. What’s worse is that I am just hearing a voice all around me and can’t see anyone.

“Is this better,” asked God, as he took form, looking surprisingly a lot like me and the other students at Bryant College.

“Who the hell are you,” I shouted.

“Okay, let’s clear all this up right now. I’m God, pleased to meet you,” He said as He stuck out His hand.

My mind went blank and I froze. A few seconds later, I shook His hand. He was real. I mean, when I shook His hand, there was flesh and bone there. Was I really meeting God? Had I had a mental break? Why was God here?

“Nick, I will answer your questions in due time,” God said, “But first, we have a chemistry class to go to.” He winked at me.

“You’re going to go to my class,” I inquired.

“Why not,” God replied, “I haven’t visited Earth in quite a while, not since the French Revolution.”

“You’ve been here before,” I asked?

“You really need to read that book about me from time to time,” He chuckled.

When are you face to face with God, inevitably, you will look and sound like an idiot. I think I just won first prize in the “Sorry God, I’m An Idiot Contest.” Despite my confusion, I grabbed my bag and God followed me to class. We got to the chem lab and sat down. My friends noticed my new friend in tow and came over to talk to us.

“Nicky, who’s your friend,” asked Shelly, my friend since freshman year who caused my heart to melt whenever she spoke.

I was struggling to think of an explanation, but I was interrupted.

“I’m Adam, Nick’s relative from out of town,” said God.

“Cool man. Where’re ya from,” asked Kyle, my neighbor from down the hall.

“Everywhere really,” God smiled.

“Military brat,” asked Paul, one of my roommates.

“Adam, this is Shelly, Kyle, Rob, and Paul,” I interrupted, introducing everyone to God (as if he didn’t already know).

“Pleased to meet you,” said God.

Okay, God is in my chemistry class and He has just met my friends. He probably already knew their names and everything about them, but He went on as if He was just a regular person. I prayed for guidance about my life after graduation and the Almighty Himself makes a house call. There are billions of people in the world and God just stopped by to say hello and answer my prayers directly? I don’t think so. I saw “Oh God” and “Dogma;” something’s up. After class, all of us, including God, went to the Union for lunch.

“I love grilled cheeseburgers. I don’t usually get to eat them because I am traveling so much,” explained God.

“Where do you travel? I mean, what do you do,” asked Rob.

“I do a lot of missionary work, spreading the word of God, meeting people,” God said.

“You’re not one of the religious nuts like Bible Dan the Preacher Man, are you,” asked Shelly.

“The guy who goes around college campuses and tells the students that they are going to burn in hell? No, I’m just interested in talking about faith and learning about people’s views on God,” He responded.

“You just like hearing what people think,” Shelly asked.

“Sure, how can you learn if you don’t ask,” He said.

“It’s all a load of shit. Religion and God, who needs that stuff,” sneered Paul.

I was afraid. Was God going to smite my friend Paul while he scarfed down a cheeseburger? This couldn’t be good. I imagined how I would explain to Paul’s dad why his son suddenly was stricken with leprosy. But it didn’t happen. God laughed. He let Paul just spout about religion. He listened as Shelly talked about Catholic school. He told jokes. He talked about religion and Christianity and holy wars. We were enraptured with His stories. I realized that Paul was not going to be destroyed, that God was pleased with him, with all of us. We spent hours in the Union talking and laughing and sharing stories and viewpoints. My friends thought “Adam” was cool. I walked with God back to my apartment.

“Shelly’s a very cute girl, isn’t she,” God asked.

“Um, ya, she is,” I replied, totally confused.

“Did you ever take her out,” He inquired. “If you haven’t, you should do that,” He added.

“Why didn’t you strike Paul down for what he said,” I asked, wanting desperately to change the subject.

“Nick, of all the gifts I have given to everyone, I think my best gift was free will. The choice to do something or not. The freedom to do whatever. To believe in me or to not believe in me,” He responded.

“But don’t you love us,” I asked. I was confused but yet I found myself accepting more and more that this was God.

“Of course I do. That’s what I do. I love each and every one of you,” he said.

“But what about evil people? What about other religions? Why, if you love us, do bad things happened in the world,” I spouted.

“Nick, there is no simple answer to that. I certainly can’t reveal my entire plan to you. You are not ready for that. I can say this to you – I love everyone, regardless of whether they return that love, and not every bad thing that happens is a bad thing, just as not every good thing that happens is a good thing,” He replied.

I am more confused than ever. God and I talk more and more. He asks me about Shelly, almost prodding me to do something. He asks me about my biology major and shares with me some things I would never learn in any biology class. I am also awestruck by how much He listens while I talk and talk. He never shuts down a question. I am asking things at a million miles a minute. He is not encrypting His messages, but sometimes, He could not answer my questions in a way I could understand.

“You’re wondering why I am here, aren’t you,” asked God.

“Well, the thought did cross my mind,” I replied.

“I have a mission for you,” He stated simply.

“This isn’t like the movie ‘Oh God’, where I have to go out and tell the world that you exist and that humanity can make it work,” I replied.

“That was an interesting movie. I told John Denver he should take the part,” God said, “But no, I have something different for you.”

“Do I get special powers, like parting the ocean or turning a stick into a snake,” I asked excitedly.

“You already have all the powers you need,” He stated in a paternal manner.

“What do I have to do,” I asked.

“You do not have to do anything. You have a choice, remember,” He said, “but if you choose to, I would like you to consider becoming a pastor.”

“A pastor,” I grimaced. He wants me to become a religious guy.

“You prayed to me for guidance. I am presenting you with an option,” He stated.

“How could I be a pastor? I don’t know anything,” I said.

“You know all that you need to know,” He replied.

Then I asked, “Why me?”

To which God smiled and said, “Why not?”

God and I went back and forth for hours. Kyle and Rob came over and joined in the conversation. Of course, they only knew him as Adam, not God. We all talked for hours.

“I’m hungry. Let’s order pizza,” suggested God.

“Pepperoni, no mushrooms,” Kyle shouted from the bathroom.

I found it weird that God ate. He’s God. Why would He need food? Let me tell you this, God has a big appetite. He ate a whole pizza by Himself. He even drank beer. This was a far cry from the God I read about in the Bible and certainly not what we were taught about in church. It was getting late when we finally wrapped things up.

“Nick, you’re able to take me to the airport tomorrow morning, right,” asked God?
“Yeah sure,” I said, stunned by the request.

“Hey man, when are you coming back,” asked Rob.

“I never know where I may end up, but I will try to come back and visit Nick again soon,” God replied.

Everyone left, and God and I sat at the kitchen table.

“Think about what I asked you to consider,” said God as He faded from view.

“Always the showman,” said a female voice.

“Who are you,” I yelled.

A beautiful, blonde girl appeared before my eyes. “I’m Evelyn, but you can call me Eve,” she said in a sultry voice.

“And who are you,” I asked.

She replied, “I am many things and I go by many names.”

“Satan,” I stated matter-of-factly.

“Not my favorite,” she said coldly.

“Why are you here,” I demanded.

“Don’t you listen to the big guy. Free will,” she said, “I certainly don’t want you to make a decision without all the information.”

She came up behind me and began to massage my shoulders. She whispered in my ear and decided that we needed to go out to a bar.

“So, this is my temptation,” I inquired.

“Such a simple creature,” she replied, “This is your opportunity. Why would you ever want to become a pastor? There is so much more for you out there.”

“Is this where I sell you my soul,” I asked.

“I haven’t worked that way in a long time,” she said, “I am going tell you a few things and answer a few questions.”

“Why me,” I asked

“Humans. You all think that there is some grand purpose as to why you are in any given situation,” she explained, “But simply put, I told God that He could never answer a prayer directly and have things work out in His favor.”

“You made a bet with God,” I said.

She smiled, “Well, not really, but if you want to look at it that way, it suits me just fine.”

“You talk with God,” I asked. I had so many questions about how God and Satan interacted.

Again, she smiled, “The whole balance of good and evil argument might sum it up, but here’s the thing. I was there with God from the beginning. Before the earth, before man. The one angel above all others. He loved me best, until He began creating things and creatures and mankind. I was His special creation, along with all the angels and hosts of Heaven. For some reason, He had a change of heart. Man became His all-consuming passion. You all could do nothing special, but you are His favorites. I was angry and made it known. So, He tossed me out of Heaven. And yes, that did bother me. But, you see, I have a greater chance to interact with God’s special creatures. I am down here with you, showing you all the things that you have questions about.”

I am sitting in a bar with Satan talking about the nature of God and humanity. She is so attractive that my thoughts begin to wander. I want her so bad that I can feel it, almost taste it. She knows this too and touches me. Drinks keep flowing. We go back to my apartment. My heart tells me to hold fast and not succumb to Satan’s tempting beauty. My groin, however, seems to be in charge right now. Back at the apartment, she and I eat cold pizza and drink a few beers. She leans closer to me and kisses me with the deepest passion. A little too late, I notice that she has unbuckled my pants and has brought me to full attention.

“Stop,” I shouted.

“What’s the matter? We’re just having a little fun,” she said.

I am flustered and confused. “I can’t do this.”

“Damn,” she muttered. “Well, I feel so unsatisfied. Tell me Nick, whatever are we going to do now? Drown ourselves with South Park reruns,” she continued.

“You came here for a reason. Tell me what you’re doing here,” I demanded!

“Okay, let’s go,” she commanded.

We go out for a walk and discuss things for quite some time. She tells me that I have a promising career as a biochemist.

“You could discover the cure for cancer, or develop new agricultural chemicals to increase worldwide food production,” she said, “You would be rich beyond your wildest dreams; everyone would praise you.”

“At what cost,” I asked.

“Do you really want to spend your life devoted to God,” she responded, “Shepherding people who could care less about being in church, who whine and complain about every aspect of their miserable lives.”

“Better to reign on earth than to serve in Heaven, huh,” I retorted.

“How quaint. Yet another theology lesson from a small-brained fool,” she said angrily.

“Where’s the temptation? Insulting me certainly doesn’t help your case,” I said.

“You sound like He did in the desert,” she sneered.

With that, she showed me my life ten years from now. I am at a press conference announcing my research results with the cancer cure. Media hounds are everywhere. I am meeting with world leaders, going on book tours, and all sorts of glory and praise follow me everywhere. I have a beautiful wife and three children. My home is huge. All of this is great. I have everything I would ever want and I am helping the world.

“What do you think,” she asked.

“Sounds tempting, but there is always a catch,” I responded.

She nodded, “I do you a favor, you do me a favor.” Her tongue grazed my ear as she spoke

“What favor,” I asked, moving her hands from my lap.

“You need only reject God. And why shouldn’t you? He could stop disease, war, famine with the wave of His hand. Yet He sits there. He wants blind faith and gives you no answers. He leaves things to chance. Nothing is given to you. You have to earn it all. He wants you to love Him out of fear,” she explained, “I do none of those things. You want it? I will give you. You have a problem? I’ll fix it. I already love you and expect nothing in return. ‘Do what you want.’ That’s my motto.”

“Maybe the reward of Heaven isn’t revealed to us because then we might lose free will,” I stated.

“Or maybe Heaven ain’t that great,” she said as she faded from view.

I walked back to the apartment. Kyle is over and he asks me about the hot blonde that I was talking to at the bar. I say that she is just some girl that I met. He is disappointed that I don’t give more details. I go into my room and Adam’s form comes into view.

“Interesting night,” said God.

“Yeah, I guess,” I replied. I didn’t really want to talk to anyone, even God.

“The decision is not going to be easy. You have an interesting offer from Lucifer. You would be doing something wonderful for the world,” he explained.

“You’re okay with that,” I yelled.

“It’s not my choice Nick,” he stated, “You make your own destiny. I have given you all the information you need to make your decision.”

“Why are you and Satan making a bet for my soul,” I asked.

“Nick, it’s not a bet, more of a challenge. I don’t gamble for souls,” he said.

“Sure sounds like a bet to me,” I said.

“Things are not always what they appear to be,” he replied with a grin.

“You still talk with Satan,” I asked.

He sighed and said, “Lucifer was my special angel. An angel above all others. But like you, I gave angels free will. The more Lucifer learned and experienced, the less he chose to follow me. But with all things, good and evil are opposite sides of the same coin. I can’t have that, as you well know. I sent him on his way and he went on to do his thing” “I do enjoy talking to him, though” he continued, “He’s very witty, and often quite comical. Sometimes, I even learn a thing or two from him.”

The theological impact of this rang through my head. I asked for this situation with a simple prayer. I would never know what was in God’s mind, but I did know that my decision carried some importance if it brought the powers that be into the picture. I had so many questions about what to do and when I would see God again. I struggled to speak.

"God," I sputtered.

"Yes," he replied.

"Why are we here," I managed to ask over the lump in my throat.

The look on God's face was stoic. I thought maybe I had stepped over the line and offended him. Then he smiled and said, "Because I love you and you give me joy."

I had no response, but those words filled my heart more than anything ever said to me.

“Good bye Nick. Good luck with your decision.” God smiled and disappeared.

In the days that followed, I thought a lot about my meetings with God and Satan. I asked my friends a million questions. People thought I had gone around the bend.

“You thinking about what,” Rob asked, almost laughing as he said it.

“I was thinking about studying theology at Trinity College in the fall,” I said.

“We’re graduating in two weeks. We’re done,” Paul added.

“Why theology,” asked Kyle, “you’re a biology major. I thought you were going there for your Masters in biochemistry.”

“I don’t know. I was talking with Adam and I really thought about it after all we had been talking about,” I responded.

“Adam was cool and all, but why would you want to spout that religious muck to a bunch of foolish, guilt-ridden people for the rest of your life,” Paul retorted.

This went on for a while. Paul and Rob left to grab some food for dinner. I thought a lot about what they said. What did I know about preaching to people? I was no one special, just a kid from California who thought that biology was a great course of study. I wasn’t super-religious, and I didn’t always go to church. God comes to me and asks me to lead people in faith. I had to be out of my mind.

“Hi sweetie,” said a female voice from behind.

“You need something Eve or are you here to offer me something,” I questioned.

“Would it make your decision easier,” she replied, “I can always sweeten the deal. More money? Three girlfriends instead of a wife?”

“Why me? What makes me so special,” I demanded.

“Why you? Why you? Get over it Nick. He picked you for some reason only He knows and I have to make sure you make the informed choice,” she said.

“Somehow, I doubt your motives,” I countered.

Eve slinked over to me. She was dressed like Marilyn Monroe. She whispered into my ear, “And somehow, I doubt yours.” She left in a puff of smoke.

“Always the showman,” I thought to myself.

I couldn’t begin to grasp everything that I had seen and heard, but I knew I had a serious choice to make. The one thing I thought a lot about was what would happen if I chose my own path, one different from what God and I talked about and different from the one Satan offered. I was still thinking about it all as I got my diploma from Bryant. I had no clue what my own choice would be, until I realized that I always had my own choice. Three months later, I had packed my car up for my trip to Trinity College in Iowa. The road was long and somewhere near Nebraska, it began to rain.

The Cat's in the cradle

2007-01-22T12:46:00.000-06:00

So, in the holiday rush, and the busy days following, I have forgotten to share some things. And, it is about time for another update on the KID. I am officially in the adoption pool, which means I sit with other potential parents in a book. Birthfamilies get to read the book and say, "I like this one or I like that one." Then if that happens, they look at your bio book (which I must say for me, looks rather cool - I think I would make a great read). If they still like you, then, you and the birthfamily meet - to close the deal (although, remember, until you have the KID in your hands, it's not yours yet). Then you bond with the birthfamily until you get the call, "She's in labor." Like any other parent, you will rush out of the house forgetting something important, get pulled over on the way to the airport, and sit between a drunk priest and new age minister (don't laugh, this happened on the way to England when I gave up my real seat to make sure that newlyweds could sit together).

So until that time, I think about the KID and what it will be like. But I can't call the kid KID for his or her whole life. I have settled on "Benjamin Adam" as a boy's name. However, I just can't come up with a good girl's name. I love "Grace" and I love "Helena" (no influence from My Chemical Romance, I swear). I also like "Abigail" or "Jude." However, here are the names other people have suggested: Megan (blech), Jennifer (because no one else uses THAT name), Penelope (thereby ensuring that she will be a librarian or an accountant), and Carolyn (NO!). Obviously, I am hoping for a boy. Little Ben or "Girl to be named" will probably hope for a different dad.

Baby Showers!!!! Okay, these sound like a "woman" thing to have. Your girl friends get together, buy you things for the baby (sometimes, expensive things), you have cake, coffee, and an alcoholic beverage or too, and you laugh. Where is the girly part? I want free baby stuff (kids are darned expensive). I can laugh. I like alcoholic beverages. So, my friends are gung ho on this idea (yes, even the guy friends). Baby Illini gear is fine with me (www.folletts.com). Also, some of my colleagues at the courthouse want to have a shower (lawyers have disposable income). The courthouse staff wants in - since the baby's gender is unknown, pick clothes in blue or yellow (blue is a great color for either gender, so stop with the hangups). I think people should throw a shower for people for all kinds of occasions. Who doesn't like free stuff?

This weekend was baby weekend for me. My college roommate TJ (although he is going by "Tim" now) and his husband Brian brought their little tyke (my godson Aaron) into town, not to see me specifically, but I got to see them. We had a great time and I thought, I can do this parent thing, even though the good comes with some bad. Aaron likes to grab at anything at toddler level, which in my house includes the fireplace poker, etc. Father lesson #1. Aaron likes to throw things in the toilet and flush (I needed a new toothbrush anyways). Father lesson #2. Aaron will fall asleep to the Veggie Tales. Father lesson #3. On Sunday, after that great game where the Bears marched to the Super Bowl, my friends Kelly and Chris brought their daughter Izzy (my unofficial goddaughter) to see me. She is two months old and cries like a banshee. Father lesson #4. But get this, they dropped her into my arms - she fell asleep, mom fell asleep, and dad watched mindless tv. I have a gift.

So anyways, I am rambling on about the baby thing, so leave a comment and let me know what you want my next blog to be about . . .

Jars of Clay

2007-01-16T22:02:00.000-06:00

So, I am teaching a youth group lesson about Clay Pots - the fragile nature of clay, despite it's early importance to God's people. I hope I don't screw up - so read . . . . . .
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WE HAVE THESE TREASURES IN JARS OF CLAY
Clay is plastic when wet, which means it can be easily shaped. When dry, it becomes firm and when subject to high temperature, known as firing, permanent physical and chemical reactions occur which, amongst other changes, causes the clay to be converted into a ceramic material. A fireplace or oven specifically designed for firing clay is called a kiln. These properties make clay an ideal substance for making durable pottery items, both practical and decorative, with different types of clay and firing conditions often used in earthenware, stoneware and porcelain. Early humans discovered the useful properties of clay in prehistoric times, and one of the earliest artifacts ever uncovered is a drinking vessel made of sun-dried clay. Depending on the content of the soil, clay can appear in various colors, from a dull gray to a deep orange-red.
Clays sintered in fire were the first ceramic, and remain one of the cheapest to produce and most widely used materials even in the present day. Bricks, cooking pots, art objects, dishware and even musical instruments such as the ocarinacan all be shaped from clay before being fired. Clay is also used in many industrial processes, such as paper making, cement production, pottery, and chemical filtering.

The development of pottery was a milestone in human history. These durable and watertight containers enabled people to boil and steam food which allowed them to exploit new sources of food such as shellfish, acorns, and leafy vegetables. Soft boiled foods could be eaten by toothless children and the elderly, which permitted caregivers to spend more time producing food. In Japan, for instance, the introduction of pottery was followed by a population explosion. In the archaeology of the Eastern Woodlands of North America the introduction of pottery is referred to as the container revolution.

Since pottery is a durable, man-made artifact which was utilized by various cultures around the world, it has proven to be a boon for archaeologists. Broken pottery in archaeological sites, called sherds or shards, help identify the resident culture and date the stratum by the formation, style and decoration. The relative chronologies based on pottery are essential for dating the remains of non-literate cultures and help in the dating of some historic cultures as well. Trace element analysis, mostly by neutron activation, allows the sources of clay to be accurately identified.

The invention of the potter's wheel in Mesopotamia sometime between 6,000 and 2,400 BCE revolutionized pottery production. Specialized potters were then able to meet the burgeoning needs of the world's first cities.

While artistic value of Classical Greek and Roman pottery largely consisted of the surface decoration, the pottery itself was an important art form in China, where efficient kilns allowed high temperature ware to be fired with wood, long before the use of coal.

The LORD God formed man out of the clay of the ground and blew into his nostrils the breath of life, and so man became a living being – Genesis 2:7 (Adamah – Hebrew for “earth”).

And the priest shall take holy water in an earthen vessel; and of the dust that is on the floor of the tabernacle the priest shall take, and put it into the water. Numbers 5:17.

And every earthen vessel, whereinto any of them falleth, whatsoever is in it shall be unclean; and ye shall break it. Leviticus 11:33.

And the vessel of earth, that he toucheth which hath the issue, shall be broken: and every vessel of wood shall be rinsed in water. Leviticus 15:12.

Behold, I am toward God even as you are. I am also formed out of the clay. Job 33:6.

Whereas you saw the feet and toes, part of potters' clay, and part of iron, it shall be a divided kingdom; but there shall be in it of the strength of the iron, because you saw the iron mixed with miry clay. Daniel 2:41.

When the vessel that he made of the clay was marred in the hand of the potter, he made it again another vessel, as seemed good to the potter to make it. "Can I not, O house of Israel, deal with you as this potter [does]?" declares the LORD. "Behold, like the clay in the potter's hand, so are you in My hand, O house of Israel. Jeremiah 18:4-6.

This is what the Lord Almighty, God of Israel, says: Take these documents, both sealed and unsealed copies of the deed of purchase, and put them in a clay jar so they will last a long time. Jeremiah 32:14.

The precious sons of Zion, comparable to fine gold, how are they esteemed as earthen pitchers, the work of the hands of the potter! Lamentations 4:2.

You turn things upside down! Is the potter no better than his clay? Can something that has been made say about its maker, "He didn't make me"? Can a piece of pottery say about the potter, "He doesn't understand"? Isaiah 29:16.

How horrible it will be for the one who quarrels with his maker. He is pottery among other earthenware pots. Does the clay ask the one who shapes it, "What are you making?" Does your work say to you, "There are no handles"? Isaiah 45:9.

But now, LORD, you are our Father. We are the clay, and you are our potter. We are the work of your hands. Isaiah 64:8

He answered, "The man who is called Jesus made clay, and anointed my eyes, and said to me, 'Go to Siloam and wash'; so I went away and washed, and I received sight."Now it was a Sabbath on the day when Jesus made the clay and opened his eyes. Then the Pharisees also were asking him again how he received his sight. And he said to them, "He applied clay to my eyes, and I washed, and I see." John 9:11, 14-15.

Who do you think you are to talk back to God like that? Can an object that was made say to its maker, "Why did you make me like this?" A potter has the right to do whatever he wants with his clay. He can make something for a special occasion or something for everyday use from the same lump of clay. What if God, although willing to demonstrate His wrath and to make His power known, endured with much patience vessels of wrath prepared for destruction? Romans 9:20-22.

In a large house there are not only objects made of gold and silver, but also those made of wood and clay. Some objects are honored when they are used; others aren't. If a man therefore will cleanse himself from these, he will be a vessel to honor, sanctified and meet for the master's use, and prepared to every good work. Flee also youthful lusts: but follow righteousness, faith, charity, peace, with them that call on the Lord out of a pure heart. 2 Timothy 2:20-22.

For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined into our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are pressed on every side, yet not crushed; perplexed, yet not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed. 2 Corinthians 4:6-9.

He will rule them with a rod of iron, shattering them like clay pots; as I also have received of my Father Revelation 2:27.

Munsters

2007-01-10T22:36:00.000-06:00

Yvonne De Carlo died today. She was Lily Munster on "The Munsters." She was also in "The Ten Commandments," but sadly, I will always remember her as the sweet, but creepy mother on one of my favorite TV shows. They don't make shows like that anymore. That's too bad.

Monster-proof Blankets - January 3, 2007

2007-01-09T22:19:00.001-06:00

Last night, I was listening to a comedian on Comedy Central. Quite funny, quite large. But he started talking about how he was explaining the well-known theory to his nephew that monsters of any kind cannot hurt, attack, maul, or otherwise drag you to the depths of hell, so long as the only thing sticking out from under your blanket is your head. He was telling a joke, but it spurred me to thinking . . . this is a rather amusing lie that adults perpetuate through time to their children. Just like the Santa Claus story, we pass this fib on from generation to generation. It makes us feel good. It gives that feeling of love, safety, and security to our defenseless and imaginative young ones. Hell, to this day, I still get an occasional freak out when I wake to find my leg dangling over the edge of the bed, not shrouded in any blanket. Thankfully, no slimy, fanged, odd-shaped monstrosity has stolen me away.

But what is really on my mind though is how we could use that blanket today. Hey, when you grow old, the monsters come in new forms . . . alcoholism, racism, faithlessness, rage, ignorance, xenophobia, and even republicanism (and not "republicanism" as in the state of representative democracy, but rather "republicanism" as in a lack of independent political thought). Nothing shields us from it. It gets to us when we are awake, and it gets to us when we are asleep. I wish I could be wrapped in cloth that is stuffed with down feathers, a cloth so strong that I would never have to fear the evils. I want someone else to tuck me in sometimes and say that the monsters can't get through the blanket if you keep everything underneath it.

Wouldn't that be nice? Sure would, but that is not the way of things. Nor would I honestly want to be sheltered from all that is bad. Why? How would know what is good? Something to ponder - fibs we tell our kids . . . monster-proof blankets, Santa/Easter Bunny/Tooth Fairy, stepping on cracks . . . Aesop would be proud. Enough rambling for now.

Gifts, Sparrows, & Clay - December 24, 2006

2007-01-09T22:19:00.000-06:00

Christmas is here. But what does that really mean. Santa? Gifts? Church? Joy and peace? I suppose if you boiled it all down to the purest points - yes. We give gifts to let others know that they are loved. We shop and spend more money than we probably should. We even take a moment or two to think of those less fortunate and buy gifts or work in soup kitchens. We go to church and sing carols and listen to the Christmas story (Luke's version is my favorite). Then, Christmas ends for another year.

For 24 hours, we forget all that ails us. We forget those who have wronged us. We forget the wrongs we have done. We put childish things aside. We listen quietly on a cold night for cry of the newborn - the one sent to save us all. Then we stop. We go back to work. We lie. We cheat. We lash out in anger. We remember the wrongs. We commit new ones, ourselves. We leave the joy behind as we succumb to road rage.

God sees the evils we have done. He suffers the slings and arrows that we hurl. And yet, he longed to be close to us. I am reminded of a story. There is a barn in winter and there are sparrows quivering in the cold and the darkness. A farmer comes in and sees these sparrows and wants to bring them comfort and warmth. He approaches. The sparrows flee in fear into the darkness. The farmer only wants to bring the sparrows into his house where it is light and warm. But the sparrows fear him. The farmer wishes he could become a bird so he could tell those sparrows that he loves them and wants them to be safe. And that is what God did - we were in fear and darkness. So, he came down as one of us to take away sin and conquer darkness.

We lose sight of that message. Christmas is one of two major holidays where church attendance is higher. People may see Christmas as an obligation, a burden. Is it a burden to be given such a gift? I say not. God sees all our failings. He is angered. He knows our wrongs against Him and against others. And yet, one night, He put all of that aside. He sent His Son to us as our gift. God says to us that all you have done, all you do, and all you will do is forgiven - just believe and accept My Son as your gift. That is a pretty awesome gift. And He had no obligation to do so. He did it willingly.

So, I guess this is where I take a calling from Him. I will take that gift He gave and celebrate it. Jubliee, if you will. Can I promise not swear? Sure. Will I live up to it? I hope so. Can I promise to share and care? Sure, if the Doodlebops have told me I should, I can remember that promise too. Can I look at this wonderful gift and share it with others? You better believe that this is my new goal.

We are but earthen vessels, fragile and weak. And inside, God put his greatest treasure. I gotta remember that. The Potter has molded his clay, and the clay shall not tell the maker how it should be made. That's the end of the sermon - here's a thought though: Look to East for the sign. Even in today's busy world, the star is still shining to lead us home.

As the Days Go By - December 7, 2006

2007-01-09T22:18:00.000-06:00

Here is one of those random blogs where I ramble on . . .

I made it into the adoption pool. I got my license from DCFS (because I am adopting a kid from another state). What does the pool mean? I submitted a "Dear Birthparent" letter, where I have one page to talk about myself and try to convince potential birthparents to pick my file to look at. Yikes! I have a hard enough time not using run-on sentences when I speak. Then if they pick my file, they can review it and determine if I am the one they want to raise their child. Could be a day, could be a year from now when I get a kid. But I have that license, which says my home is fit for a child and that I meet all parenting standards set by DCFS. Wouldn't it be nice if everyone had to do that before bringing a child into the world? Maybe child abuse would disappear . . . but, then again, you have to have a license to drive a car (and people are still lousy drivers).

I have had three trials in a row this week. One was over money and assets and finessing settlement language. Boring and mind-numbing and I wanted to strangle everyone. Yesterday was a custody trial. My client was seeking sole custody. I actually felt bad cross-examining the other party (I made her cry on the witness stand), but ultimately, my job is argue for the best interests of the child, not the party losing custody. Today's trial - whether a house is worth $200K or $250K. Waste of time and money, but in family law, people lose all sense of rationality. It's my job as a lawyer to keep that sense of rationality going.

This past Saturday, I received unexpected news. Our Associate Pastor called me, while he was away at a youth ministry convention, to let me know personally that he had accepted a Senior Pastor position at another church. Ouch! This Pastor is the reason I joined the church I am at (well, the community of this church is why, but he is the conduit). I was also confused - he apparently wanted to call a select group of people and confidentially tell them first. Why me? I guess even in my short time there, I managed to make an impact. Now, I could be selfish and say that I am angry and sad at him for leaving (and I am - because that is a normal reaction). However, I am glad. I am glad that he was called to service for another church (God is always speaking). I am glad that he found a role that suits his talents. I am glad that others will get to experience the Cheese Song. I am glad that God led me to this church to meet this man. I wish only the best for him, and I fully expect that as he reads this, he knows that we will be singing more songs again soon (did I mention that I have a song about bologna?) I leave this topic with this quote: "Greatness is not measured by how many people celebrate your presence, but by how many people mourn your absence."

Music. I couldn't imagine a day in my life without music. In fact, I would probably make music out of anything if I didn't have a radio around and my voice was hoarse. I have been singing more and more. Cantatas, karaoke, community chorales, you name it. I bought a new instrument, a djembe, which I have been banging on after work. Great for just having fun and making noise. I even, with trepidation, have restarted my music theory lessons. No, I don't plan on becoming a composer, but I am so weird, I even love to learn about music. Music is probably one of the most difficult languages ever written by man, and the most powerful. When aliens come to visit (watch Close Encounters of the Third Kind), music will likely be the best way to communicate, trust me.

So that is my mad ramblings for this week. Oh wait, we had a snowstorm last Thursday. And all those morons with licenses to drive proved once again that having a license to do something doesn't make you good at it.

Yabba Dabba-loo-yah - December 20, 2006

2007-01-09T22:17:00.000-06:00

Cartoons. I have written about them before. Why? Simple. In cartoons, anything is possible. A coyote can order malfunctioning weapons of false destruction that only work against the buyer. Rabbits can talk. A groups teens (an effeminate pseudo-male, a stuck-up hot chick, a lesbian, and a pothead) and a talking dog can drive in a psychadelic van, not attend school, and solve the unsolved mysteries that have plagued local police departments around the country. A hyper-intelligent dog and his boy Sherman can travel through time to teach history to kids. Yep, cartoons can do it all.

I have written before about cartoons. But today, it is special for me. Joe Barbera (of Hanna-Barbera) passed away today of natural causes (Bill Hanna died in 2001). This team is responsible for "Tom & Jerry," "The Flintstones," "The Jetsons," "Huckleberry Hound," "Scooby Doo," "The Laff-a-Lympics," Yogi Bear," "The Smurfs," "Quick Draw McGraw," "Johnny Quest," "Snorks," "Hong Kong Phooey," "Top Cat," "Dexter's Lab," "Captain Planet," and many, many more. Yep, I gosh darned loved Hanna-Barbera. Seriously, you have at least one favorite cartoon that came from Hanna-Barbera.

HB Cartoons are everywhere. Cartoon Network's Adult Swim is full with HB tributes - Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law!!!!! Find a person on the street who can't sing the theme to the Smurfs. Find me a child of the 80s who can't tell you who Captain Planet is and how he is "by your powers combined."

Now, I also just learned that on November 20, 2006, Chris Hayward passed away. You are scratching your head??? Does Dudley Do-Right ring a bell? No. Okay, he was the writer for Rocky & Bullwinkle . . . and the creator of the Munsters. And, of course - he was partly involved with Mr. Peabody and his boy Sherman. I don't usually go a month without saying "Quiet, you." to someone.

Most of the cartoons by these two men found their way into a Chris Rice song called, "What If Cartoons Got Saved?" The song asks how cartoons would respond if they were saved by Jesus. No matter what, we do give human-ness to cartoons. They are often our first experiences when the TV is turned on. It's not surprising how important cartoons are to people. They teach us to sing. They teach us to count. They teach us to share. They teach us that no one is subject to the laws of gravity unless they realize they are subject to the laws of gravity. They teach us that kindness usually wins out. And, they make us laugh our asses off.

And of course, there are still a list of cartoon things I want to know:

*When Megatron (Transformers) transforms into the hand-held gun that fits into the hands of Starscream, a robot of equal size, where does all of Megatron's mass go?

*Scooby Doo can talk (and apparently think). Why doesn't he think, "Why I am driving around with these weirdos? Where is Pam Anderson?"

*Does Charlie Brown ever think, "Screw this. I am kicking Lucy in the damn head!"?

*Why didn't Yosemite Sam, Elmer Fudd, Daffy Duck, and Wylie Coyote team up? I am tired of Bugs and the Road Runner winning the day?

*Where are Donald Duck's pants?

*Where is Mickey Mouse's shirt? Seriously, between Mickey and Donald, they had one outfit. And why does Goofy get pants, a shirt, and a vest?

*Is knowing really half the battle? Or is getting people to apply what they know half the battle? Who knows? I think the glass is still half-empty.

*How did capturing a bumble bee in a clamshell allow Fred Flintstone to shave?

I guess I will never know, but thankfully, Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends and Fairly Oddparents will teach me new things about how to live a good life. Oh, and Jane - Stop this crazy thing!!!!!!

As the Days Go By - December 7, 2006

2007-01-09T22:16:00.001-06:00

Waiting for Wednesday - November 19, 2006

2007-01-09T22:16:00.000-06:00

Did you ever have someone learn something about you that you did not possibly expect them to learn? Well, I did, but the kicker is, I put that stuff in a blog on this page. So, how in the hell did I expect people not to learn this stuff about me. My pastor, Kirk (I will let you search on your own for him, look up "The Cheese Song"), stopped me last Wednesday and mentioned that he "googled" me. Shit! He knew about this blog, about my old blog on blogger.com, about my sad attempt at web design from my Law and Technology class. Dammit! I swear in my blogs. I write about the things I observe. These are not for church, let me assure you. For days, waves of mortification plagued me. Allow me to lay some background though . . .

I was born into the Catholic Church, communed there, and just about confirmed there. Before the handcuffs and blinders were placed upon me, we moved away and slipped into heathenism. Then in middle school, mom sought to make sure that I did not end up somewhere in hell (trust me, I have enough jokes about how I am going to end up running hell), so she took me to the Lutheran church she had liked. My first exposure to Protestantism, and certainly, my first steps into rebellion and inquisitiveness that are imbued in my character today. Great-grandma, Irish Catholic extraordinaire, was none too pleased. And there I stayed, a Protestant, a Lutheran . . . occasionally, I battled with bouts of atheism, or more appropriately, agnosticism. I even ventured back to the Catholic Church a few years ago, but I never felt good at church. Something was missing. I wasn't doing it right.

Flash forward to finding the United Church of Christ (the "United Church" of Christ, not the United "Church of Christ" - which means something different). I walked into the local UCC church near where I live. There was music, and something that I had never really experienced at church, JOY. People were damn glad to be there. I was immediately drawn in. The message to me was very simple at this church. God has spoken, God speaks. And guess what, he is still here . . . listening.

Which brings me back to the whole blog thing . . . Kirk has read my blog. He tells me this right before we go upstairs for Crazies (the youth group). It's Wednesday. I am podnering in my little noodle what Kirk now thinks about me as he mentions "I even read the circumcision blog." Earlier this morning, I came to church renewed. I sang "Flood" during the offretory. But I was not alone. Roger, the Praise Band leader, Kirk, and his son each added their talents on the piano, guitar, and djembe, respectively. As these gifts from God filled the room, you could actually see joy spread through the sanctuary. It was uplifting. I couldn't imagine a better feeling. I was thankful, and remain thankful for the gifts and talents God has given me. More than the song, He has given me a church, one where the true meaning of church hits me - a gathering of people in the name of Christ to praise and worship God. How cool is that!

As I type this, I am listening to the Cheese Song, by Kirk, which I purchased from iTunes. I am looking forward to Wednesdays, where I have decided to work with youth ministries. Wednesdays, where for now, I sing with dedicated people pulling together a Cantata for the Advent season. Wednesdays, where I find things just naturally fall into place. I am not mortified thinking about who has read my blogs anymore. It's me and read them for what they are worth. And trust me, I do have some humorous religious stories in the hopper. Later gators . . .

Running Without Scissors - October 31, 2006

2007-01-09T22:15:00.000-06:00

Since the new millenium, there have been a slew of movies about dysfunctional families . . . such as "The Royal Tennenbaums," "The Life Aquatic," "Little Miss Sunshine," "Running With Scissors," and many more. Why do many people like these movies? Commiseration! There is nothing better than sitting back and observing just how fucked up the lives of others really are. Is it limited to movies? Hell no. Pick up a David Sedaris book (I recommend "Me Talk Pretty One Day"), or read the two tomes by Dave Eggers (U of I grad), or enjoy "The Kid" by Dan Savage. Dysfunction is big business and I'll be damned if I don't want in on the action.

How do you begin to write a magnum opus of family decline and disruption? You could undergo hypnosis to dredge up horrific memories of verbal and mental abuse heaped upon you by your parents. I don't need to do that, as I only need to look at old photo albums to see the clothes my parents dressed me in (who puts corduroy pants on a kid in the middle of summer? sadists, I tell you). As I have looked back on pictures from my youth, I smile at some of the pictures that carry trauma and the overcoming of adversity all in one.

When I was nine, I had recently lost my status as only child. My mom had just given birth to my baby brother. My dad was unemployed (again). My mom had to work a second job to make ends meet, while dad made sure the tv set wasn't stolen. Halloween was fast approaching and I didn't have a costume. Far be it from my father to tear himself away from the latest wrestling match, I was left to my own devices to find a halloween costume. I had construction paper and a box, and out sprung a great idea. I needed some electrical tape, and thus began my costume design night. Skipping ahead, I made myself a Rubik's Cube costume. But, I was nine and lacked the forsight to plan appropriate armholes. Yep, you guessed it - I cut the armholes on the sides of the box, instead of the front (which would have made trick or treating much easier). It's a funny story, but would it sell in a dysfunctional family movie? (Probably wouldn't warrant more than a one to two minute flashback).

Ooh, a picture of me at my high school awards night. Yep, dear ole dad was absent from that. Soccer pictures? Not even sure if my dad knows I ever played soccer. And here is where the blog turns into a whiny rant. Poor Sean. *sniffle* Allow me to wipe my ass with these memories. And then a picture that warrants a story . . .

The picture is of a 1979 Buick crashed through the back of a detached garage. It's my garage. It's taken from the backyard of my best friend (at age 5), Mark Vlodman. As the tangent comes in to this story, I have no idea what happened to Mark after I moved away at age 10. What is important is how the car crashed through the garage - and the tangents that go with it. When I was five, my mom didn't know how to drive. She couldn't take driver's ed in high school because my grandma believed that only sluts drove cars. My dad was actually employed at the time and had just been given a company car, the 1979 Buick. It was about to rain. My dad was mowing the lawn in the backyard, conveniently enough, behind the detached garage. My mom, not wanting to leave the car out in the rain, thought she would pull the car into the garage. Well, the accelerator apparently stuck and the car lurched through the back wall of the garage. The car crashed through and knocked my dad and the mower into the air. Yes, the mower missed his head and he lived. Mark and I were in the driveway (contemplating ways to improve the performance of our big wheels) and shouted with glee, "Do it again!" Tell me that Wes Anderson could have written a scene like that?

There are many other moments of dysfunction - like me, as an 8 year old, getting yelled for misplacing the tools that my father never used. "Gee Dad, I'm eight-fucking-years-old. What the fuck would I do with a crescent wrench?" Each one on its own warrants a small chuckle. Taken together, I sometimes wonder why I didn't consume mass amounts of sedatives, become an alcoholic, knock up the neighbor girl, and move right into a shack outside of town. I guess I could pen some novel of epic proportions and earn my way into a meeting with David Sedaris to write a play that would win many awards.

Fuck that, though. Dysfunction is more fun when you get to tell your friends about the time your dad tossed you into the kitchen wall because he had a bad day at work (re-employment happened frequently for my dad). Why put it on the big screen? Excuse me while I go write the postscript to all the characters in my little saga . . .

I Wanna Be Brett Scallions - October 10, 2006

2007-01-09T22:14:00.000-06:00

For those of you who know me, a little or a lot, you know I love karaoke... Well, you know I love to sing... I would sing at the drop of a hat... You remember that show "Cop Rock?.. The one where they sang in the courtroom and all that?.... Sometimes, I think that would be cool..(and yes, then I realize how strange that would actually be, but fuck off anyways)..... So is all this singing talk going to get to some point?.. Who knows.

But, to start, a few weeks ago, I was rocking out at Cheerliters (not a spelling error), where everyone knows my name..... My friend Lauren was eyeing this scruffy looking guy (whom she said looked like the dead guy in Weekend at Bernie's), and I went up to sing "Hemorrhage" by Fuel... Look at my face - do you think I could rock out like Brett Scallions?.. Well, guess what?.... I can (but only Hemorrhage and Shimmer, because I fail at Bad Day). Now, scruffy Bernie-guy comes up to me after that song and explains to me that he has a band that needs a lead singer and he is going to bring his band in next week to hear me at karaoke (he did do that).....

So.."Bernie" and I talked for a bit and I didn't put any stock in the conversation... However, my imagination wandered and I thought about how much I missed performing... Nope, never had a real band... But I sang a lot, with show choir, and open mic nights at the Channing-Murray Center, and once on the street with a homeless guy at Christmas... Everyone has some secret desire that they never plan on acting on... Mine is to be rock star... Apparently, someone has other plans for me.

At my church, like at many other non-Catholic churches, we have a Praise Band, and seriously, they do rock... Pastor Kirk, upon the instruction of a member of my church who is now a sitting judge, invited me to sing during one of the services... Obviously, Fuel is not going be part of the liturgy, so who to sing?.. I found two bands that I can sing their songs and would not scare the congregation into revoking my membership... One is Jars of Clay, one of my all-time favorite bands (yes, I love this band)... The other is Run Kid Run (an edgier Christian Rock band)... Now, I am working on the songs, seeing if I can pull of playing the guitar (probably not, so thankfully Pastor Kirk can play)...

And then tonight, "Bernie" called and told me that his band is practicing this week... Cop Rock, here I come . . .

I was a Teenage Activist - September 22, 2006

2007-01-09T22:13:00.000-06:00

Yesterday, I got a letter from Senator John McCain... Not the family Christmas letter I usually get, where John waxes poetic about the meaning of Christmas, especially the Christmases he spent in that Viet Cong prison camp... No, this letter was John's impassioned plea for my help in fighting global warming... It hit me, aside from the times I sent John a birthday card, this was the first time John Wayne McCain had talked about the environment with me... Talk about shell shocked . . . I felt like I had just left Saigon in 1973, as I read what..John wrote about the desolate, Waterworld-esque future that awaits us if global warming goes unchecked.

All that thinking made me remember my days in high school, where I would have affectionately been known as a causehead..... I was the founder of an environmental action club (hey, it was 1990 and the 20th Anniversary of Earth Day - I was hip with the timing too)... We did everything from saving a swamp behind our school to instituting a paper recycling program in our school to ridding the cafeteria of styrofoam... I mean, I took global warming, landfills, endangered species, oil dependence, and toxic chemicals very seriously.

And yes, I worked at the PADS shelter in my town, a shelter for homeless families and battered women... I didn't have any hang ups about getting dirty or any of that... It was just what we did as part of my church, so I did it... I had no desire for accolades or any of that - although we did get in the paper sometimes, which meant more donations for PADS... Cool?.. I thought so.

But there was one time in high school that I joined a cause I had no interest in... I joined the club because I was in love with a girl... This girl was into Amnesty International and she wanted to start a club at our high school... Sadly, she didn't have nearly enough members, so I offered my environmental club members, which gave her the numbers she needed... At 17, I could give a rat's ass about political prisoners in Papau New Guinea or genocide in Botswana... I did give a rat's ass about this girl... I was so hot for her that if she told me that there was oppression in Siberia, I would have gone to yell at someone... All I wanted was a kiss (which, for the record, I got months later at the Winter Wonderland dance)... So for months, I learned about the evils that governments do to people who speak out... And I didn't care... I was mesmorized by a blonde teenage girl with beautiful looks, nice breasts, and blue eyes.

What does this have to do with global warming?.. Does this mean I have a thing for John McCain?.. Well, I was just thinking about how much idealism I had at 17... And no, I admire Senator McCain because he speaks his mind, but he'll never compare to my Amnesty girl from 16 years ago... How bout that?

The First Cut is the Deepest - September 11, 2006

2007-01-09T22:10:00.000-06:00

Okay, so part of the debate with adopting an infant is the snipping issue. If it's a girl, not issue. If it's a boy, should the baby be circumcised. Here is my answer - HELL NO!!!!

For those of you who don't know, human males are born with a foreskin that covers the tip of the penis. Originally, it can be assumed that the foreskin was there to protect the penis while we were walking around unclothed. So logically, now that we wear clothes, all excess protective skin should be removed. That's right, excess skin on the elbows? Trim it down because we wear clothes.

Now rest assured, I am not one of those people who believes that the kid will years later suffer the trauma of circumcision. That's not my reason. My reason is that circumcision is a barbaric practice. Look at the device used to strap the child down:

A Circumstraint

Now, look at the torture devices used to do the deed:

Why in the name of all that is decent would I do that to a child. Yes, the kid will probably not remember. But I will. And I won't do that.

"But Sean, your child won't be as clean." Excuse me? Can I not afford soap and washcloths? My child will be very clean. What are you telling me? That I should cut off any body part that is difficult to clean? Well, let's pull out the back teeth because it's hard to floss there. Sew that ass shut because that is not easy to clean. And what about the middle of your back? Jeez, that sounds awful. And more importantly, the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) states: "The uncircumcised penis is easy to keep clean. No special care is required."

"But Sean, everybody's doing it?" Really, as of 2003, around 60% of the newborn males in the United States are circumcised before discharge. In Canada, Australia, and England, the rate of circumcision is around 12%. And in New Zealand, it is less than 1%. And the rest of the world too. Since I am not Jewish, there is no religious reason to do so. "But Sean, the other boys will make fun of him," or "He won't look like his daddy." Number 1, I don't want my child hanging around with people who are only interested in his penis. Number 2, my child and I will not be comparing penises.

"You know, women won't like it." Well, first and foremost, I don't want my child dating any person who suddenly turns him away because of his penis. Those people are shallow and lame. If women are like that, then fine - I like nice firm breasts. All women should have barbaric, unnecessary surgery to please my aesthetics. Going back to not liking it. Smegma is the issue - the dead skin and bacteria that sometimes collect at the foreskin. Again - my child will be a clean child. So get over it.

"It's just not normal." Oh, so because we have mutilated children for hundreds of years, we should keep doing that. Okay, do you want me to use leeches to "bleed" the sickness out of me too? Should I go back to owning slaves? You tell me. Traditions are not always things to continue.

I will leave you with the American Association of Pediatricians, and their most recent policy statement on circumcision (1999):

Existing scientific evidence demonstrates potential medical benefits of newborn male circumcision; however, these data are not sufficient to recommend routine neonatal circumcision. In the case of circumcision, in which there are potential benefits and risks, yet the procedure is not essential to the child's current well-being, parents should determine what is in the best interest of the child.

The Kids Are Alright - August 22, 2006

2007-01-09T22:09:00.000-06:00

It seems that I hooked you all with the adoption story, so I have no choice but to continue blogging about this. That, and the adoption agency said I might want to create a record of the process so that I can share it with the kid when he or she is older. Ya right! I swear like a truck driver; do you think I am going to let the kid know that?

Okay, so I said I would talk about what kind of kid I want. I am not here to debate the concept of "buying a kid." But I will tell you that it is cool to think about just what kind of kid you want. So here goes . . .

I want a boy. Duh! I want to have a son, not to carry on my name, but because sons are cool. Daughters are fine too, but let's look at the drawbacks for a single father. Bra shopping - what the hell do I know about bras, except for how to remove them with one hand. Periods - yes, I know what they are and can explain them to a child. But, is a preteen/teen girl going to want to talk about womanly changes with her father? Hmm . . . but like all parents, if I have a daughter, I will learn to adapt. And learn how to shoot a shotgun (teen boys beware of trying to date my daughter). Anyways, a son is what I hope will happen. Cubs games, balsa wood airplanes, and all that. I love it.

Race and ethnicity is a big issue in adoptions. Obviously, I am best suited to have a caucasian kid. I am familiar with African-American culture, but it would kinda be like giving cultuaral Cliff's notes to the child. Could I handle a Hispanic or Asian kid? Yep. Just seems easier for me. I may come off as racist, but I am being honest.

Other than that, I hope for the same thing all parents hope for - a healthy kid with all the right appendages (not that any parent would hope for an unhealthy child). Could I cope with a deaf child? Could I work with a child suffering from drug addiction due to birthparent drug use? I believe I could, but I don't want that to happen.

So, that is the story of kid choice. Next time, I will tackle the interesting and odd subject of circumcision (no, really, I will . . .)

And Baby Makes Two - August 15, 2006

2007-01-09T22:08:00.000-06:00

Holy shit dear readers . . . I am writing this Portland, Oregon. Why have I left the safety and sanity and security of the Midwest for the Northwest? Well, I have decided to adopt a kid. No, the kid is not here yet. No, I haven't foregone the idea of getting married - just not in a rush to figure that part of my life out yet.

Before I ruminate on the adoption, let me share some thoughts on Oregon and Oregonians. Driving in Portland is essentially the same as sex on the third date. You are anxious to see what's there, nothing goes right and the signs are confusing, but in the end, you kinda did it right and got where you needed to be. But in all seriousness, it sucks. Every street I saw was a one-way street in one driection or the other. The lights stay green for about 22 seconds. The speed (limit) is 25 just about everywhere. I say "limit" in parenthesis because the signs just read "speed."

The people in Portland are very nice. They talk just like Midwesterners, but they appear to be a little bit afraid of speaking too often. I think this is because they do not want to be confused with California, or maybe Seattle. There are a large number of "homeless" in Portland. Most are young and they beg for change. I tell them to fuck off because hey, I am trying to get a kid and need the money - and these lazy prats seem quite capable of doing any job. I mean, are there no record stores in Portland (surprisingly, I didn't see many record stores - an untapped market for these "homeless" youths).

So, about this kid. I am working with an open adoption agency in town. Open adoption means that the birth parent picks the adoptive parent and the adoptive parents and the birth parents maintain a relationship after the baby is born. I like that idea. Makes the kid know that he was chosen and that his or her birthmother chose the people to raise the kid. I have heard all the lines about being a single male who wants to adopt. Most of my friends have been very great to me about my decision. My mom is a tad against the idea. But, I am old enough not to need her approval and when the grandkid stares her in the eye, she'll melt like butter.

So, that is the beginning of the story. I will share my kid wishes (what kind of kid I want) next time.

Later gators!

Did You Know . . . . Funny Laws

2006-01-11T22:37:00.000-06:00

So, I am a lawyer. Save the jokes. Here are some funny laws and my comments (in italics):

You can't plow a cotton field with an elephant in North Carolina. And thank God, because not only do we need to protect the native elephant population in America, but also, elephants get in the way of the

In Lehigh, Nebraska it's against the law to sell donut holes. *insert corn hole joke here*

Under the law of Mississippi, there's no such thing as a female Peeping Tom. Because who would want to peep on their inbred male relatives?

Lawn darts are illegal in Canada. America, Jr. follows our lead.

In Idaho, a citizen is forbidden by law to give another citizen a box of candy that weighs more than 50 pounds. Who likes someone that much??? Also, if you are not a citizen of Idaho, does that law apply to you?

Every citizen of Kentucky is required by law to take a bath at least once a year. This one is just too easy - but okay . . . they also have to brush their tooth once a month.

It is against the law to whale hunt in Oklahoma. Who wrote this law? That's like saying sand is illegal at the beach. Of course, this law had to start somehow. Did some jackass kill a whale at the Tulsa aquarium?

According to law, no store is allowed to sell a toothbrush on the Sabbath in Providence, Rhode Island. Yet these same stores are allowed to sell toothpaste and mouthwash on Sundays. Guess those visitors from Kentucky are just fucked then.

Before the enactment of the 1978 law that made it mandatory for dog owners in New York City to clean up after their pets, approximately 40 million pounds of dog excrement were deposited on the streets every year. The real question is: did anyone notice? It is New York City after all.

In Breton, Alabama, there is a law on the town's books against riding down the street in a motorboat. Especially after you just got back from whale hunting in Oklahoma.

Connecticut and Rhode Island never ratified the 18th Amendment: Prohibition. And does anyone even care?

n New York State, it is still illegal to shoot a rabbit from a moving trolley car. Whales, on the other hand, may be shot from any moving vehicle.

Vermont, Alaska, Hawaii, and Maine are the four states in the U.S. that do not allow billboards. If you in Hawaii, why would you look at a billboard anyways? In Alaska, they used them all for heat. And no one goes to Vermont or Maine anyways.

In Riverside, California, there is an old law on the city's books which makes it illegal to kiss unless both people wipe their lips with rose water. Again, California is just weird and we should kick it out of the union at our first opportunity (along with Ohio).

In Saudi Arabia, a woman reportedly may divorce her husband if he does not keep her supplied with coffee. But that bitch is fucked if she drives a car, shows her face, or talks to a man who is not her brother, father, or husband.

Holiday Letters

2006-01-08T17:20:00.000-06:00

Some of you probably send Christmas cards and those cards sometimes come with lengthy letters which are a year in review. They are attempts to say, "hey, we're better than you and here's why." I always wanted to write a letter for my card that would horrify my friends and family. Here goes.

Dear Family and Friends (because I am too damn cheap to write to you individually),
This year has been one for the history books. My fucking bitch of a wife pushed me one time too many, so gave her five across the eyes. The doctors say she will heal up nicely, but probably won't see so good out of the left eye. Thinking she had learned a lesson, I went to pick her up but the nurses said there was some kind of restraining order against me. Fucking whore and her lawyer brother. Then to top all that off, she filed for divorce. I will kill her before she gets Jackie and Sean Jr.

Speaking of the boys, Jackie is tearing it up in pee wee football. The other coaches complain that he is too rough, but he's just doing what his daddy taught him. He's the star of that team and the referees know it too. That's why they slap all those penalties on him. Sean Jr. started high school this year. We all know he is a quiet boy, which I can't figure out because I encourage him to talk. Oh well, he has a new friend named Pete and they study all the time in Sean Jr.'s room. I got a rocket scientist growing up in the house for sure.

I am hoping that in 2006, I will find a new job. My boss and I didn't see things the same way at the mill and well, long story short, the insurance will cover his prosthetic hand. Worker's comp says the day. And the other job I got in February dried up because of housing market changes. Anyways, I hope you all are doing well. Not that any of you bastards ever pick up a god damn phone to call us.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year,
Sean, Karen, Sean Jr. & Jackie

holidays are over

2006-01-02T01:46:00.000-06:00

Okay, so now that all the holidays are over, I can get back to blogging, especially since I have been lax at posting anything. Rest assured, I have lots to write about and I will. Also, I am taking suggestions and guest bloggers. Care to help out? Leave a comment!

Happy New Year - 2006!!

Guest Blog - Snowmantics -or- How to Entice a Woman to Love You Throught the Art of Snow

2005-12-13T18:07:00.000-06:00

From time to time, I like to let my friends guest author my blog. This blog was written by Benjamin Miller of Glen Ellyn, Illinois. (I take no responsibility for spelling, grammar, or content.)

Snowmantics, or “snow-romantics” as some earlier history books call it, has been around since the rise of the Pax Romana. Julius Caesar, or “the father of Snowmantisism” as he is more commonly called, created the first snow-sculptured heart, a feat only Leonardo Da’Vinci could replicate after extensive years of trial and error. In the original manuscript written by William Shakespeare, Mark Anthony says “Romans, fellow countrymen, lend me your ears, I am not hear to praise the father of Snowmantics, I am here to bury him”. Unfortunately later revisions cut out this crucial fact in history. But it was not Julius Caesar that started this pandemic of snowmanticitous infecting this world, oh no. It was another man, a man so bold that he took Snowmantics to the next level. This man had a vision, a dream, this man is an artist, an author, this man is Ben Miller.

Now, Why, you say? Well, as the only certified snowmantic instructor I feel privileged to teach all you perspiring…I mean aspiring Snowmantic blue belts the ways of the sensei. But before you seduce that special woman with a heart felt saying in the snow, we must first go over some rules and guide lines.

Types of snow

- White Snow (normal)

- Yellow Snow (not normal for obvious reasons)

- Red Snow (Usually the result of a not so lucky animal)

- Black Snow (Usually dirt or dare I say…)

- Rainbow Snow (Rare in most parts of the world, this type of snow only appears in the late days of July)

The use of different types of snow in different areas of your message or work of art gives the masterpiece a sense of brilliance and will add to the overall effect on the viewer. For example, if you wanted to create a sun, you wouldn’t use white snow, the use of yellow snow would bring life to the otherwise dull look of a white picture. Also, a Santa can easily be made with a skillful mixture of red and white snow. If you are looking to create a magnificent sunset all you need is the red, yellow and black snow. To create the full affect of a sunset, first mix the yellow and red snow to make orange snow, do the same for the red and the black…yes they will make purple. If any of these colors are not on hand, try Ebay for rainbow snow, which solves all problems (just like duct tape). But the use of colors also has a darker side, and no, I am not talking about midnight snowmantic pranks. The over use of colors can actually detract the “Wow factor” of your desired message to your significant other. Most amateurs go for the A+ but instead over use that yellow snow.

Now, snow color is just one factor in the ways of Snowmantics, the use of “slush” for lack of a better name and a mental picture, can be just as versatile. But that’s not the subject of this paragraph, o no, who ever thought that was my next subject, well….YOU’VE BEEN PUNK’D! Yes that’s right, punk’d. Now I know what your thinking “ok lets just get to the next subject” so for all the people out there who wont let me go on and rant about stuff, hears the real subject of this paragraph. To cause, I mean spare confusion I will indent twice to signal the real first sentence of this paragraph.

(once) (twice)

Now that you have your color of snow picked out and gathered from various places around town its time to choose a “font” to write your message in. From writing a love poem to go along with snowman sculpture to signing your name under a snow version of “Water Lily Pond” by Claude Monet, The choice of Font is crucial to the “enticing” part of Snowmantics. Your font choice for a lover might go as follows.

What Is Love?

Love is a shy smile,
a sweet hello,
a soft caress...

Love is two hands entwined,
a lingering kiss,
a swelling of the heart...

Love is undeniable,
unforgettable,
unimaginable,
and what every heart yearns for...

A French script might do well for this poem, but I must warn you, from experience, being a dashing, romantic man with a dashing, romantic poem doesn’t make you romantic, it’s the dashing, romantic man with a dashing, romantic poem written (in snow) with a dashing, romantic font that makes you dashingly romantic, or for a more professional term, Snowmantic. As you can see, font is what makes love not the poem, for example, same font as above:

If I Created the Alphabet I would put U and I together - As you can see, its utterly snowmantic!

If you are looking for something more than just a really cool poem, or a million dollar replica of a work of art try building a sculpture. Maybe a snowman and a snowwoman holding hands….awww how cute.

If holding hands and making up words like snowwoman is not for you try doing what good O’l Charlie Brown did, or rather Julius Caesar did, make a heart (with red snow of course!). If none of these things seem to fit your personality your probably not a very snowmantic person. But don’t worry because I have a fail proof, school appropriate sculpture for you. I know what your thinking, “Wow thanks Ben, your amazing” and so I say, “ Your very welcome, (Name)”. I will now unveil my sculpture idea for the world……A pair of shoes! But don’t forget the crucial caption “I will buy these for you if you go to homecoming with me”. I cant stress enough about not forgetting the caption. Without it, its just shoes….and a lot of angry woman.

Snowmantics is not about angering woman, its about sending their hearts a flutter with a subtle message of love and a sculpted rose to show her how much she means to you, how much you care. Snowmantics is not just a way for a man to express his love for a woman, it is an art, an art I hope you all who are reading this will perfect. Snowmantics is poetry, it is a never ending fairytale of Snow White (hehe, SNOW white, get it?) and a lesser known fairy tale “ Of the palace of the snow queen and what happened there at last” by Hans Christian Andersen (again snow…not funny, tough crowd…..it was the only other fairy tale I could find, give me a break). Just remember, Snowmantics is a way of life, live it and follow its path and your life will be fulfilled, and if you abuse it, it will be gone by summer (how do you like that for justice!) As one former Snowmantics sensei said “One morning I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got in my pajamas, I don't know”. Though this quote seems obsolete to you it makes perfect sense to me. This quote is actually a cryptic message, if you take out all the letter except the one’s used to spell Snowmantics, you can actually spell Snowmantics, isn’t that cool! So now I leave with one final thought, to be dashingly romantic, you mustn’t forget the three rules of Snowmantics, Snow color, Font, and sculptures. If you remember these rules you will be on you way to being a dashingly romantic person, or as I like to put it, Snowmantic.

My Future Wife

2005-11-16T11:19:00.000-06:00

Okay, so in my many days of lousy dates and bad relationships, I have clung to a dream. That dream is that I would marry Chicago rocker Liz Phair (a dream that I may never be able to realize). As a side story that dream, I have always had a secret love of singer Lisa Loeb (the one who sang "Stay" from Reality Bites). She's quirky, hip, a beautiful singer, and she is just all-around hot!

Like the answer to a prayer, E! Entertainment Television gives me hope. (The following information is from the Hollywood Reporter, November 15, 2005): Yesterday, E! greenlighted an unscripted series that will follow newly single singer-songwriter Lisa Loeb as she re-enters the dating world. The eight-episode series, titled "#1 Single," will feature Loeb as she moves back to New York and starts dating again for the first time since college. The half-hour series is set to premiere in January. Meanwhile, the Grammy-nominated Loeb said she believes the show will be a way to "connect with more people on a larger scale." "I decided to do this TV series because what I do as a musician and songwriter is connect to an audience, so why not take that to another level," Loeb said. (end credit to Hollywood Reporter)

Okay, so why wasn't I informed of this series so I could be one of the dates. Lisa and I could sing together (I am a karaoke whore). Plus we are both quirky oddballs who are cute enough to get by on that. I will watch the show and critique the losers (who are not me) who try to win her heart.

So, no Liz Phair, and I missed the boat on Lisa Loeb. On to celebrity crush number 3 - Eve Plumb (ya, Jan from the Brady Bunch). Yes, she's hot too, so lump it if ya don't like it.

Oh God!

2005-11-14T14:45:00.000-06:00

Well world, we are in trouble. God is the new Prada for late 2000s. He is everywhere and yet nowhere at the same time. He has been reduced to a catchphrase or bandied about like a volleyball. What has me all tiraded up? Please allow me to begin.

1) Intelligent Design: I for one am a big fan of teaching people as much information as their little brains can store. I believe in evolution and yes, I can reconcile those beliefs with the creation story in the Bible. This is what some would call "intelligent design." However, my thought process is quite a bit deeper than that, pondering such non-evolutionary topics as the soul, how the mind keeps certain secrets, why yellow and blue make green. What the media has come to define "intelligent design" as is really just a thinly veiled attempt to bring creationism into schools. And why shouldn't creationism be taught in schools? I am all for separation of church and state, but if we want to make a bright line rule, then Greek and Roman mythology have to go. I mean, the Greeks and the Romans believed that the earth (Gaia) sprung forth from Chaos and gave birth to the sea (Pontus) and the sky (Uranus). If we can teach our children these stories, why can't we teach them about creationism? Don't we want our children to be critical thinkers and wonder and dream? I do.

2) Michael Newdow - He is an atheist. In 2003, he sued a California school because his daughter was forced to say the Pledge of Allegiance with the phrase "Under God." (Despite the fact that the daughter said she herself had no problem with the pledge.) Yes, the phrase "Under God" was added to the pledge and the phrase "In God We Trust" was added to our money in direct response to the Communist scare of the 1950s. However, it's there. The Court punted Newdow's claim because he was not the custodial parent of the daughter. Now, moments ago, Newdow stated that he was going to sue the U.S. Treasury to have "In God We Trust" removed from our money because it is forcing a religious viewpoint on the population. Here is where I am torn. I love when people challenge our government - it keeps them on their toes. However, I dislike Michael Newdow. He is a media attention whore, in my opinion. He is a failed lawyer, in my opinion. I bet you that Mr. Newdow spends that money whether it has that phrase on it or not. A real atheist trying to stick it to our government wouldn't even use our money. So what do we gain from this lawsuit? More taxpayer money spent on something frivolous because the Court is just going to toss the suit. And Michael Newdow gets more publicity. Hey Mikey, are ya gonna sue Major League Baseball for having singers perform "God Bless America" during the 7th Inning Stretch?

3) Bush and the Christian Right - Somehow, George Bush has a direct hotline to God. I can't believe it, but even God must get bored and want a good laugh from time to time. Everything Bush does or says has some twinge of christian conservatism to it. I mean Bush even heard God tell him to invade Iraq because they had WMDs. I have met some people who have had conversations with God. They smell funny (like cheap wine) and are often seen arguing with invisible people miles away. God must be pleased with the new Supreme Court nominee. I would ask Him, but He is apparently playing racquetball with Bush at 4 o'clock today.

4) Weather and Other Disasters - Here are some things God has been accredited with (or blamed for): the World Trade Center disaster, Hurricane Katrina, Oklahoma City bombing, the New England blizzards. Why is He blamed for them or given credit for them? Because we are sinners and we must be punished. We fornicate, we steal, we lie, we cheat, and some of us have relations with the same gender. Get a fucking grip people. God is not punishing people for this. The terrorist attacks were caused by fucked up religious freaks who cant' see people with differences. Katrina was a weather disaster. But Sean, you say, clearly New Orleans was a sinful place and God decided to wash it away. WRONG!!! First of all, the most sinful parts of New Orleans (let us not be throwing stones) were untouched by Katrina. Second, God promised us no more floods and he sealed that promise with the rainbow. See Genesis 9:12-17. I implore the overly religious to read that book (the Bible, in case they don't know to what book I refer) - they just might see that God actually loves us and probably might get a kick out of seeing his name on our greenbacks.

Wow, that was more religious than I planned to be, but sometimes, you gotta shake people up to get some thoughts moving. Add a comment, if you want to say something on this topic.

Did You Know . . . Part 3

2005-11-08T15:56:00.000-06:00

I still get requests for more stupid facts, but I think maybe some people just like the smart ass comments I make. So here goes:

One-fourth of the world's population lives on less than $200 a year. Yes, and they are all customer service reps for American companies.
Ninety million people survive on less than $75 a year. We are obviously overpaying a certain percentage of the population.
Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia is the fear of long words. Fuck you is the shortest response to someone who uses words like this.
More people are killed by donkeys annually than are killed in plane crashes. Honestly, who is tracking this? I doubt the Transportation Safety Administration is, so it must be the American Donkey Association of America.
The continents names all end with the same letter with which they start. Okay, this fact is just wrong. North America? South America? You can't cheat and remove the North or South! There are 7 continents. But this works for the other 5.
Crocodiles and alligators are surprisingly fast on land. Although they are rapid, they are not agile; so if you ever find yourself chased by one, run in a zigzag line. You'll lose him or her every time. Or just outrun your friend.
If one places a tiny amount of liquor on a scorpion, it will instantly go mad and sting itself to death. You want to try this as much as I do.
A raisin dropped in a glass of fresh champagne will bounce up and down continually from the bottom of the glass to the top. See what you can learn when you are completely drunk!
All of the clocks in Pulp Fiction are stuck on 4:20. Potheads.
The symbol on the "pound" key (#) is called an octothorpe. It's called "number sign", you pretentious ass.
On the cartoon show 'The Jetsons', Jane is 33 years old and her daughter Judy is 15. Jane was obviously a slut.
The housefly hums in the middle octave, key of F. Just like most car horns. This music guy must just test everything and say, "yep, that's the key of F"
Mr. Snuffleupagas' first name was Alyoisus. If you know this much about Sesame Street, you are either gay or a pedophile or have no friends, maybe all 3.

Church Signs

2005-11-08T14:59:00.000-06:00

You ever drive down the road and see funny church signs (or see ones that you could make funny by changing a few letters)? Well, there is a website that now allows you to make your own signs (www.churchsigngenerator.com)
Here is mine:

funny ass pics

2005-11-04T00:17:00.000-06:00

These are some fucking funny pics I found on the internet. Enjoy them, bitches!

Did You Know . . . part 2

2005-10-27T21:49:00.000-05:00

Yet another session of Did You Know, with more comments by me . . . .

To "testify" was based on men in the Roman court swearing to a statement made by swearing on their testicles. The Romans were harsh, but they had a thing for the balls - makes you wonder what the word would be if women had to swear on their tits.
During conscription for WWII, there were nine documented cases of men with three testicles. I would want this documented to. "Yep, I stormed the hill at Iwo Jima, and I got three nuts, bitches."
Benito Mussolini would ward off the evil eye by touching his testicles. Ya right, he was whacking off and we all know it.
Both Hitler and Napoleon were missing one testicle. They must have lied in a Roman court.
Impotence is legal grounds for divorce in 24 American states. Is being a total bitch grounds for divorce in those same states.
The Declaration of Independence was written on hemp paper. Founding Fathers rocking the ganj.
101 Dalmatians and Peter Pan (Wendy ) are the only two Disney cartoon features with both parents that are present and don't die throughout the movie. They are not, however, the only Disney cartoons where there are no Jews.
The Soviet Sukhoi-34 is the first strike fighter with a toilet in it. When you have to shit, you have to shit.
Napoleon constructed his battle plans in a sandbox. Which may be the location of his missing testicle.
'Strengths' is the longest word in the English language with just one vowel. Fucking scrabble players.
'Stewardesses' is the longest word that is typed with only the left hand. Good news for those of you searching for internet porn.
The tango originated as a dance between two men (for partnering practice). Is that a euphemism for fucking?? Argh.
The Los Angeles Rams were the first U.S. football team to introduce emblems on their helmets. And what is the name of Los Angeles' football team?
The average person falls asleep in seven minutes. Unless he is married.
"Studies show that if a cat falls off the seventh floor of a building it has about thirty percent less chance of surviving than a cat that falls off the twentieth floor. It supposedly takes about eight floors for the cat to realise what is occuring, relax and correct itself. At about that height it hits maximum speed and when it hits the ground it's rib cage absorbs most of the impact. So throw your cat off a building today!" Sounds good. I hate cats and there are plenty of 7-story buildings in the suburbs.

Did You Know?

2005-10-26T19:20:00.000-05:00

The web is the best place to find useless facts, besides my sick brain. Here are some interesting facts:

Barbie's measurements if she were life size: 39-23-33. And yet she has no vagina
The United States government keeps its supply of silver at the U.S. Military Academy at West Point, NY. Anyone up for a trip to New York state - bring a black mask and a rope
The Swiss flag is square. So are the Swiss.
The three largest land-owners in England are the Queen, the Church of England and Trinity College, Cambridge. No wonder they lost the Revolutionary War.
The white part of your fingernail is called the lunula. Wasn't this a joke on Seinfeld?
Emus cannot walk backwards. Neither can some humans
It is believed that Shakespeare was 46 around the time that the King James Version of the Bible was written. In Psalms 46, the 46th word from the first word is shake and the 46th word from the last word is spear. And some moron spent time figuring this out?
Both writer Edgar Allen Poe and LSD advocate Timothy Leary were kicked out of West Point. Probably because they were trying to find the silver stash.
The only city whose name can be spelled completely with vowels is Aiea, Hawaii, located approximately twelve miles west of Honolulu. The use of the word "whose" is troubling. This is a city, not a human. The correct word would be "that's".
Parthenogenesis is the term used to describe the process by which certain animals are able to reproduce themselves in successive female generations without intervention of a male of the species. At least one species of lizard is known to do so. They are called lesbians in the human world.
Cats have over one hundred vocal sounds, while dogs only have about ten. Cats suck!!!
"Quisling" is the only word in the English language to start with "quis." Who is Quisling you ask? He was a Nazi collaborator who ran occupied Norway. If you call a Norwegian a "quisling," be prepared to see these usually docile people kick your ass.
The common goldfish is the only animal that can see both infra-red and ultra-violet light. Big whoop. They have a 5-second memory, so they would forget the cool shit they just saw.
Linn's Stamp News is the world's largest weekly newspaper for stamp collectors. Linn has no friends, obviously.
Des Moines has the highest per capita Jello consumption in the U.S. And that jello contains a bit of vodka to numb the pain of living in the most boring city in the U.S.
Most Americans' car horns beep in the key of F. Someone actually was bored enought to figure that out.
Camel's milk does not curdle. And it makes great cheese too.
Oliver Cromwell was hanged and decapitated two years after he had died. So, the English have always been a little slow.
Walt Disney's autograph bears no resemblance to the famous Disney logo. And he hated Jews!!
The United States has never lost a war in which mules were used. Let's send some mules to Iraq.
Images for picture stamps in the United States are commissioned by the United States Postal Service Department of Philatelic Fulfillment. Sounds like a euphemism for masturbation, but then again, we are talking about stamp collectors.
The lot numbers for the cyanide-tainted Tylenol capsules scare back in 1982 were MC2880 and 1910MD. If you still have Tylenol from 1982, you should take them and leave this world a better place you lazy fuck.
Montpelier, Vermont is the only U.S. state capital without a McDonalds. Smart people in Vermont.
The Roman emperor Caligula made his horse a senator. He also had sex with this same horse.
The correct response to the Irish greeting, "Top of the morning to you," is "and the rest of the day to yourself." Then you chug two pints of Guinness and beat your mom up.
Giraffes have no vocal cords. They got a long neck, give them a break.
Hang On Sloopy is the official rock song of Ohio. Which is why I think we should kick Ohio out of the Union
A-1 Steak Sauce contains both orange peel and raisins. And other assorted items found in the garbage
The poisonous copperhead smells likefresh cut cucumbers. Which is how they found out the snake was poisonous too.
In Disney's "Fantasia", the Sorcerer's name is "Yensid" (Disney backwards.) Sounds Jewish to me.
Anne Boleyn had six fingernails on one hand. And no head after marrying the King of England.
A coat hanger is 44 inches long if straightened. Too easy to do a sexual joke.
Canada is an Indian word meaning "Big Village". Which is American for "America, Jr."
Ralph Lauren's original name was Ralph Lifshitz. Which is why he didn't work for Walt Disney.
Alexander Hamilton was shot by Aaron Burr in the groin. Who shoots a guy in the dick?
Roger Ebert is the only film critic to have ever won the Pulitzer prize. He is also the first to ever eat the Pulitzer Prize.
Cat's urine glows under a blacklight. This was obviously discovered by a pothead.
If you were standing in the northernmost point in the contiguous (48) states, you'd be standing in Minnesota. And wondering what the fuck you were doing there.
The first Ford cars had Dodge engines. Explains why Ford sucks.
The Dodge brothers Horace and John were Jewish, that's why the first Dodge emblem had a star of David in it. Walt Disney never drove a Dodge.
A flea expert is a pullicologist. And certainly not married.
A bear has 42 teeth. You can count them as they eat your appendages - they like that.
The only domestic animal not mentioned in the Bible is the cat. Because cats suck.
Charlie Brown's father was a barber. Too bad Charlie was bald.
Nutmeg is extremely poisonous if injected intraveinously. Who is trying this out? Honestly. But I hear you can smoke nutmeg
Ohio is listed as the 17th state in the U.S., but technically it is number 47. Until August 7, 1953, Congress forgot to vote on a resolution to admit Ohio to the Union. See, I am not the only one trying to get rid of Ohio.
It is a misdemeanor to kill or threaten a butterfly -- so says City Ordinance No. 352 in Pacific Grove, California. Who threatens a butterfly? Also, I wanna meet the cop who writes a ticket for this - and punch him in the head.
If you feed a seagull Alka-Seltzer, its stomach will explode. What sick bastard found this out?
The Amazon rainforest produces half the world's oxygen supply. Women in the U.S. consume half that oxygen supply.
Reindeer like to eat bananas. A common food found in the Yukon.
Starfish don't have brains. Same as some people I know.
Shrimps' hearts are in their heads. Same as some people I know.
The first couple to be shown in bed together on prime time television were Fred and Wilma Flintstone. This is a cartoon, c'mon.
Coca-Cola was originally green. So.
Every day more money is printed for Monopoly than the US Treasury. And yet the Treasury plays the game better.
Men can read smaller print than women; women can hear better. No explanation necessary.

God never closes a door . . .

2005-10-26T01:09:00.000-05:00

without throwing you out the window. So, I got rejected from a job in the legal department of a major retailer after 3 months of being in consideration. Boy do I feel like a fucking jackass. I bought their lines ("You're defintely still in the running." "You are extremely qualified for this job.") Women don't fall for lines as easily as I did. Then, I got shut out of a job with a family law firm in Wheaton. WTF? I am some kind of diseased lawyer, apparently. Maybe I should set up my law practice at the local high school - lots of underage drinkers there.

So, ya, the old addage is "God never closes a door without opening a window." God, if you happen to be reading this, and I know you are because you dig my blogs too, how about opening a window? You have certainly closed enough doors. (Just kidding God - you rock!). In any event, if you need a good lawyer in Illinois, give me a call or comment.

Houston . . . We Have A Penant

2005-10-20T21:38:00.000-05:00

I am a Cubs fan. Have been since I was five. Never gonna be anything other than that - Cubs fan above all else. Also though, I am a Bosox fan, because I love the AL too. I was a Bosox fan long before their world series win. They take second place to the Cubs though.

So, the White Sox have made the Series. Good for them. Will I be rooting for them since I am a Chicago Cubs fan? Fuck no!!! Sox fans have made jokes at my team's expense. They have questioned me about every little piece of Cubs trivia they could google, just to see if I am for real. Bitches please, I bleed Cubbie blue. If you have never been to my house, the upstairs loft is a shrine to the Cubs.

So why am I not rooting for them? Don't I want to see a title brought home to the city? Sure, by my team. I could and will not be able to handle the obnoxious taunts of both real and fairweather Sox fans should they bring the title home. I have never berated a true Sox fan - I have berated bandwagon and fairweather fans though. They will crawl from the woodwork if the Sox win like cockroaches that must be squashed.

Why the Astros? Why not? They fought hard and really have played heads-up ball. They deserve it as much as the Sox. So, I will cheer for Houston, a fellow division team and shout with joy when they make the Go Go Sox go.

calls, christians, carnality, and cartoons

2005-10-07T17:38:00.000-05:00

Gentle readers, are you guys lucky today. No, that was not a question, that was an observation about the cornucopia of things you are going to read today. I am feeling rather wordy today and had a lot of interesting observations. Let's begin, shall we?

First, I was on public transportation today. It's quick, it's cheap, and I hate driving to the city. Being that it is public transportation, I have grown rather accustomed to certain annoyances (nail trimming, booger picking, ass scratching, etc. - yes - people do this on the train). What I still have trouble with is cell phones. I accept that I have to share my ride, that's why it's called PUBLIC transportation. I can even understand the short business call, or the "I'm on my way" call. What gets irritating is the guy or gal who sets up their mobile office and conducts, in a LOUD voice, all their business. If you haven't completed your work at the office, stay the FUCK there and finish it. I don't really care if Jack in Kansas fouled up the shipping order, or if Susie in accounting has to check those numbers. Fuck off - we are trying to get home and be AWAY from work. What is worse is the person who talks for the entire train ride to a friend about absolutely nothing. Ignore it, you say? Oh, if only I could, but this person also is an ass clown with no concept of personal borders. Also, this person says things that I wouldn't even say alone without making sure no one else could hear (possible topics: who's fucking who, whether your friend has genital warts, etc.) Whenever people like me complain about these cell phone users, the response is always, "hey, it's public transportation." Yeah, and you, cell phone fuck face, are part of the public, not its entirety. Hang up the phone bitches.

So while Suzy the Whore is on her phone call, I read two interesting stories about God in the paper. The first story was about a woman who lost everything in New Orleans because of Katrina. So this destroyed woman did what anyone would do. She went to the casino, put $20 on a slot machine, and of course, won $1.6 million. First, WTF? Maybe I am just rational, but why blow your money in a casino and reinforce stereotypes. However, this is not the good part. The good part is knowing that God is going to smite this woman again. What does she say to the press after she wins? She says, "My feeling about this win is better than being blessed." Allow me to translate what she really said, "Fuck you God, I'm back on top." After reading this fantastic piece of faith, I turn two pages and get another religious shock. Apparently, we are so lazy that we need the Bible translated into the imporant language of "cell phone slang." This warrants attention because the Bible Society of Australia has undertaken the task of translating all 31,173 verses of the Bible into cell phone speak (4 God so luvd da wrld.) . Apparently, after God smacks down this New Orleans woman, he is going to have knock on Australia's door. Do we need this kind of translation? I don't know, but if there's any money in it, please look for my pig latin version of the Bible (it comes with a free slot machine token).

I finished my business downtown and met up with TJ, his husband, and their son. We rode the train back to my town so that I could take them over to TJ's sisters. This part of my post is about gay marriage because the discussion began on the train, when some woman asked the three of us who was the father of the "cute, little baby." TJ explained that he and Brian were the dads. This woman was angry and taken aback. She and TJ had words and I chimed in. TJ is my friend, and I love him like a brother (Brian's okay too, but I knew TJ longer). I thought about my own close-mindedness when I was younger. And I thought, "this baby right here is getting a taste of hatred and unreasoned bigotry." Now, I am not a poster child or a cause person, but I don't really get this hatred of gay marriage. Who cares? Decades ago, blacks and whites couldn't marry. Marriage has caused more problems that it helps, so why not let people marry whom they love. My real fear is this - there are yahoos who want to amend the US Constitution to define marriage. FUCK THAT!!! If we start down this road, we are going to use the constitution to define and regulate all sorts of things unrelated to marriage. Please don't allow that to happen. Remember the last time the Constitution was used to define behavior - it was called Prohibition. Be careful when you let blind ignorance lead you, because it can lead down thorny paths.

I want to leave you gentle reader with some pleasant thoughts. Cartoons. I love cartoons, but I always had some random thoughts about them. Don't get all hostile if you have heard this before - I am not a genius and other people can make the same observations that I have. First off, why does Donald Duck put on a towel after he leaves the shower? He never wears pants. Does his duck cock show when he is wet? Who knows. And do you remember Donald's nephews, Huey, Duey, and Lewey? They would visit Donald and they would visit Uncle Scrooge. However, where the fuck did these duck kids live? Don't they have parents? One more Disney one - Goofy. Goofy is a talking dog. He is also a racist. Why, you ask? Mickey had Pluto, a dog. Goofy never complained, and even pet Pluto on his head. As if saying, I can talk, therefore, I am better than you. Say it ain't say, Goof. I always wanted Tom to catch Jerry and Wily Coyote to catch the Roadrunner - I just did. But then I thought, "where are these animals getting the money to order these weapons and traps? why don't they just go to Denny's?" Finally, the Jetsons piss me off to no end. Elroy went to school and still used pencil and paper - this is future folks - he should doing homework telepathically. They still used paper money - again - it's the future. And, they all had flying cars, but there was always a traffic jam making George late for work or for dinner. George, you have a flying fucking car - go around the jam. In fact, no one should be jammed. Some of my critics say that there has to be order in the future. WRONG! These cars can fly!!!!!

Later all.

Another twofer, and its a visual

2005-10-06T20:45:00.000-05:00

TJ comes throught with another piece of humor (it's funny because he's gay)

"____________ needs"

2005-10-06T20:26:00.000-05:00

Heres what you do:
Go to google.com and type "(your name) needs" Then pick the 5 funniest ones there.

If your name is James, you would put this in to the search engine: "James needs"

you got the idea

This is what you guys do - put your results in the comments section. Do it!!
____________________________________
****************************************************
1. Sean needs to create at least 50 dummy accounts (for all my hidden loot).
2. Sean needs cymbals that cut (cause I am a ninja drummer).
3. Sean needs to get Beet a fair deal (I'm working on it Beet).
4. Sean needs services his parents don't want (ain't it the truth).
5. Sean needs a two parent adoptive family with the time (offer void in Florida).

cigarettes and chocolate milk

2005-10-05T18:33:00.000-05:00

George Bush has fucked this country up. Never thought I would have said it, because I voted for the man, but god damn - look at the state our country. Debt, homeless, incompetent officials handling natural disasters. Who ever that first FEMA moron was just shocked me. These things that hit the south are called hurricanes (not the drink, and not the shitty football team from Florida). This is not some new natural disaster. So how the fuck can you, as the head of the Federal Emergency Management Agency, not know how to deal with it.

Then we have John Roberts, a Christian conservative, who is our Chief Justice. Have you seen his little child Jack? This kid is the fucking antichrist and his mom dresses him up like that Damien kid from the Omen. Now, I am all about God, but I don't think God is going to care about the big cases on the ole' Supreme Court docket this fall. Anna-Nicole Smith's inheritance dispute and a case about whether employers have to pay employees for the time spent putting on uniforms and safety equipment. Are these the monster issues that are plaguing our country? What about illiteracy? Well, look at half of our government officials, and I rest my case. What about gasoline prices? And the plight of the working class? No - I would rather waste taxpayer money seeing whether Hooty McBoob gets her 88 million.

And then he nominates a lawyer with ZERO bench experience. Folks this is known as patronage. This woman, whose name I don't recall, was White House counsel and a Republican supporter. Hmm, rich people giving other rich people jobs. WTF!!

So what can I do about? I am one out of 330 million citizens. Well I tell you what I will do. I am going to rattle cages. I love doing it anyways. I am going to tell you to do the same. Even if you are a Republican and even if you like Mr. Bush, you have to see that he has some flaws. I mean, I am part of neither party, and every politician has flaws. If you believe otherwise, then you deserve to be fleeced.

family fucking circus

2005-10-05T12:07:00.000-05:00

This cartoon was just too funny not to put in my blog. God damn family circus.

business is weird, part 2

2005-10-04T00:10:00.000-05:00

So, remember I told Cingular owes me money (24 cents to be exact). These fucking geniuses of moden industry have now printed and mailed me a check for 24 cents. It cost them 37 cents to mail this check and it will cost about a dollar to process the check. Now, totalling everything up, including printing costs, it has cost them $2.41 to give me 24 cents. What can I get for this 24 cents? Not FUCKING thing! I swear to God, does George Bush run Cingular too? Think about that as we lose jobs to India and CEOs continue to make outrageous amounts of money. We are being fucked people, and for some reason, we are taking it like a hooker.

Damn man - we need to change this.

A Twofer? What am I thinking?

2005-10-03T13:04:00.000-05:00

So, this blog gives you not one, but two distinct thoughts today. Hooray for mental ambiguity.
Story #1
I got to see my boys in Normal again this weekend, which is like watching Van Wilder with no Tara Reid and no cock pump (well, we think Ben has one, but . . .) We had the usual drinking night fun, but Saturday was party night. Our small group, consisting of me, Janet, Ben, Hyde, Charlie, Lisa, and Jaeger Erin (with the occasional pop-in from George), sat and consumed various chemicals. The point is, I sort of stood up like a master of ceremonies/comedian and just let loose with my thoughts. I think that is why I felt so good - I was making people laugh. The end game issue is that I had so much fun and forgot all the shit that wears me down at times. I will keep that feeling for the rest of the week. 705'ers for life!

Story #2
Okay, this is more just an observation. I was at a birthday party for my extended family last night - for cousin Joey and Grandma Grace. Joey got the "Stewie Griffin: The Untold Story" DVD, which Big Tom urged Joey to put on the TV. Now, there is Aunt Sherry, grandma and grandpa, Uncle Joe, joey and paula, me, and Barb (who thinks we all have a sick sense of humor). Let me caution you, this DVD has no swears and no nudity, but it is vulgar, something I fucking love. Anyways, the funniest part is watching grandma and grandpa Morris laughing hysterically at some of the crassest and vilest jokes in this DVD. I made me realize that even old people can get a laugh at some dirty humor. There is hope for humanity folks.

Gotta go - Superman II is on and I dig the fight in Times Square.

Karate Jesus and Everything You Wanted to Know about Poop

2005-09-30T18:26:00.000-05:00

So, the internet is awesome for really out there stuff. Like this website: http://www.jesusoftheweek.com

My personal favorite is "He Got Game" Jesus, but there is also Karate Jesus. This cracks me up.

Also, here is a funny and informative site about poop: http://smellypoop.com/poop.html

Why put Jesus and poop in the same blog? Why not? If you're not laughing after reading these sites, you're probably dead (or should be).

Later kiddies.

spam in the comments

2005-09-30T00:16:00.000-05:00

if you see that I have comments and then see that I have deleted them, it is because they are spam. I don't want spam in my blog, but dammit, they found a way in. Real comments will never be deleted, even they criticize me. Maybe I should sing about the noodles on my back.

story time

2005-09-30T00:00:00.000-05:00

A few people have left me some comments on my work, so I thought I would share more writing. I can't share another story because I want people to maybe buy the book (assuming I can find a publisher). However, I wrote an acknowledgements section, so you all can read that:

acknowledgements

I would like to take the time to thank a lot of people. This is like the liner notes on CDs.

Of course, I would like to thank my family members who have encouraged my work over the past years, or at least are aware that I spent some time writing for fun. I love you, Mom. Patrick, shave that soul patch. Hey Pops.

My friends have been there too. Little do you all know how much you have impacted my life and how some of these stories could not exist without you. Thank you. I have some specific thank you’s, but please do not feel bad if I didn’t mention you by name. No sleight is meant. Thanks to Mr. Joe Morgan, my teacher and my advisor for all of his input in crafting my stories and encouraging my work. Hydro – 100% friend through and through – I owe you much, so I will offer you some royalties and a free copy of the book. Thanks to Ty – another superstar – if you need a web designer, contact ty@orangepiranha.com - he’s awesome. KJWood34, Phatsrfr, and Zeta Jill. My first roommate ever, TJ and his husband (ya, he’s a homo, so get over it). And then there is 705 South Franklin – you know who you are.

I would also like to Weyerhauser, Inc. for making such kick-ass paper that I used to print drafts of this book on. Oh, and the U.S. Postal Service because how would I have ever gotten this book to a publisher.

Whoever you may be in that list, you are all the best and I couldn’t be where I am without you. Sounds like an academy awards speech, doesn’t it?

I always loved reading acknowledgements in books; they are little windows into someone’s mind. It also makes you wonder who influenced the author during the book writing process. But you also know there is that one author out there who is waiting to write: “I thank no one. I did it all myself and none of you people are getting a dime from me once I am rich. Go fuck yourself.”

anger management

2005-09-29T22:48:00.000-05:00

Did you ever get so mad one day that you just wanted to punch everyone you see? The old lady in front of you who is going 20 mph below the posted speed limit? The bagger at the grocery store who puts the bread in with the soup cans? The next person who asks you something stupid about some problem you are having? Anyone you live with?

Good God, sometimes I think everyone needs a punch in the face. Shit, I probably deserve one at least once a week, if not more. I wish I could pinpoint what set me off today. Maybe it's because it is 20 degrees cooler today than it should be. Maybe it's because I am "definitely still in the running" for a job offer I have been waiting for, but "with HR problems and people's schedules, it may take a couple weeks more." If you need to hire someone, and that person fits the bill well, then hire the goddamn person and put them to work. For fuck's sake, this is not a complex decision.

Anyways, I didn't punch anyone today, even though I clenched my fist about a hundred times. You know why? Cause I can't punch people - they might punch back and they didn't really do anything to me on purpose. They're just stupid. Like me.

That's my story folks, so lump it if you don't like it.

Whoa!?!?!

2005-09-28T22:46:00.000-05:00

I got a call yesterday from TJ, my roommate from college. TJ is gay. So what? I can say that now, but at the time, it was not an easy thing for me to accept. I lived in Wheaton, where there is one church for every 10 people. Eventually, TJ became one of my better friends. He lives in California with his husband (no gay marriage questions, just accept the fact that they want to suffer just like every other married person). So, we talk every so often, send Christmas cards, and so on.

What is the point of this blog, and his call for that matter? TJ wanted to let me know that he was coming to visit his family and was going to stop in and visit with me. And, he is bringing his baby son. WHOA!?!?!?! Forget the logistics of how - he has a good friend who is the mommy. I just am happy that he is doing what he wants. Is it a little much for me to take? A little, but who cares. Will his child face a lot of questions? I hope by that time people will have learned to mellow or learned to shut the fuck up. Will his child be loved? God yes, TJ and Brian will be better dads than a lot of dads I know. But they named the boy Aaron - that's kind of a neutral name to me - blah.

Random Thoughts

2005-09-27T08:24:00.000-05:00

So, I was thinking of random thoughts and I figured this might be the post that you guys can add comments too. Try to keep it clean if you do. And now - random thoughts:

The Lorax just might come back.
The Chicago Cubs will win the World Series before I die.
Miller Lite is so much better than Budweiser.
Jesus was right, seriously.
Women are like calculus, but just try and figure out their curves.
What if we didn’t have the moon?
What if we had two moons?
Stale goat piss is probably better than Budweiser, too.
Have you ever played Mysteries of Time and Space?
Mata is my good luck charm.
You can actually play Kingdom Hearts for days at a time.
Facebook and MySpace are not addictive, I swear.
Ketchup really can go on hot dogs, so stuff it New Yorkers.
It’s ketchup, not catsup.
It’s pop, not soda.
Even with the hot girls, Fanta still sounds like generic pop.
Dogs are cool, very few cats are.
I never stole a ring pop for my fifth grade girlfriend.
It was a candy necklace.
The enemy of my enemy just might want to be my enemy too.
If you work nights at K-Mart, management might be out to screw you.
Try singing karaoke once in your life.
Trust your friends, but make sure you know whom they are.
I am not politically correct.
Midgets are funny.
Spare a dollar for someone once in while – you might need one too.
Books are hard to write.

Kappa

2005-09-26T18:25:00.000-05:00

So I have a buddy who got a job at a strip club. No, he is not stripping. He makes sure the girls don't get harassed. Great job, don't you think? Well, my other buddy went to visit this strip club and met one of the dancers. She was very nice to him and treated him well. He put an away message up - "I just met my future wife - at Kappa." Now, fortunately, my buddy is realistic and his away message is a joke. But he, like all of us, probably holds on to the slim notion that maybe, just maybe, this stripper is different and she wants us. I mean, strippers always talk about having boyfriends. They have to meet these boyfriends somewhere. So I say - hold on to that dream because when I think about love, I always think of strippers.

Business is weird

2005-09-22T16:19:00.000-05:00

So, for the second time in as many months, I received notice from Cingular Wireless that the balance on my old account is a credit in the amount of 24 cents. WTF? It has cost them, printing costs excluded, 74 cents to tell me that they owe me 24 cents. I have a new account with Cingular, under the same name and address. Why can't they just transfer that 24 cents over? I will tell you why. Because American businesses are irrational and they do things completely contrary to logic. Like lay off thousands of workers while paying CEOs millions of dollars to run the company into the ground, thus requiring them to lay off more workers. When I hire a plumber to fix stuff and he fucks up my toilet, I don't give him thousands of dollars more and ask him to try again. I fire that moron and get a better guy. Logic is a good thing to use at times, but business doesn't get it. If you don't believe me, ask yourself why the gasoline in the storage tanks at a gas station suddenly becomes more expensive the very second a natural disaster hits or a major holiday is coming. Yep, supply and demand is their excuse. But in the world of economics, price responds to supply and demand, but not in nanoseconds. Gotta go - the CEO is calling me.

Poet and a Prophet

2005-09-11T23:18:00.000-05:00

Whew. What a weekend - if there was a time for me to fuck things up with my friends, only I would choose to do it on my birthday, where my friends were all there for me. As I mentioned earlier, I have been writing short stories in an attempt to channel my talents (hahaha) into something more creative. I also have tried to write poems. Poems, to me, are different than stories. (Insert "Duh" here). In a story you have set scenes and create characters and give them a reason to be. Poems are more personal and usually a deeper reflection of the author's own being. So, I again tried my hand at poetry, which is something I have not done since high school.

versus

It’s dark and it's cold and I see an empty soul
When I look at the mirror on the wall
And the light that I need dances just out of my reach
Words are not enough to break my fall

 Quiet and alone as I pull into my home
Throw the keys aside and pour a drink
Swigging down rum and coke and take another toke
Clear my mind so I can sit and think

Nothing left for me to say so I turn and walk away
Close my fist and I punch out the light
The wind can hide my pain as I look into the rain
Put myself to sleep, good night

Crazy Game of Poker

2005-09-05T01:34:00.000-05:00

(a short story by me)

Becky Johnson is the prettiest girl at Winfield North High School. She, of course, was the Homecoming Queen, a cheerleader (and co-captain to boot), and treasurer of the senior class. All to be expected from a girl who has everything going for her. Quite oddly enough, she was not happy. She was doing what was expected; however sad, lonely, or just plain empty she felt. Becky's mom always told her that she expected nothing but the best from her daughter.

"Becky, we have to plan a dynamite new cheer for Pack The Place Night," chimed Amy, co-captain of the cheerleading squad, gushing with excitement for the upcoming basketball game.

"Yeah, I am so hoping that Billy Stevens sees me this time," said Tina, another cheerleader, who had a crush on Billy, the starting forward for the basketball team.

"Yeah, sure. We can meet after the student council meeting," replied Becky emptily.

"Great," said Amy and Tina in cheery unison.

They wandered off to their respective classes as the tardy bell rang. Becky slumped into her seat in Spanish class.

"Buenos tardes clase," said Senor Pollock.

"Hola profesor," the class responded in unison.

"Señorita Johnson, cómo estás," inquired Señor Pollock.

"Muy bien, señor," she replied with fake sincerity.

"Bueno. Clase, hoy, nosotros estudiamos el vocabulario de capítulo trés," explained Señor Pollock, as Becky drifted off to sleep.

Becky's dreams were her refuge from what she considered the job of popularity. Lately, however, her daydreams were the place where she met with Danny, Emily, and Sue. To Becky, they were just daydream characters with whom she shared her thoughts and feelings. An outsider might think Becky had gone off her rocker.

"So sweetness, what's new at Winfield West? Did we make the world safe for popularity," asked Danny.

"Danny, why are you such a dick? Becky has a lot of things on her mind and we're supposed to listen and help her out," Emily retorted.

"Or are we supposed to pat her on the head while we're stuck in here until she visits," sneered Sue.

"Guys, my life is tough enough out there. I just want to get away from it all for a while. Can we play cards," Becky sighed.

"Cards with tards. Sounds like a blast," said Danny.

The four of them sat a white table. Becky sat in the clear chair, Danny in the black, Sue in the candy apple red, and Emily in the baby blue. Danny dealt the cards; it was clear that poker was the game.

"Let's up the stakes today," said Sue, "whoever wins this hand gets out of this dream world for a while."

"What a great idea," said Danny in a slow and sinister manner.

"No, that is not what we are here for," reminded Emily.

"Yeah, I don't think that is a good idea," said Becky.

"Well, I don't care what you think. I can leave if you'd like and you can whimper about how hard your life is to Emily," replied Sue.

After some taunting by Danny and Sue, Becky relented to this unusual bet. Seven card stud was Danny's game of choice. As Sue revealed her ace-high full house to win the hand, the class bell brought Becky back from the daydream.

"That was a crazy game of poker," thought Sue as she realized she was in Becky's class.

"Becky, sleep much in class," chuckled Amy.

"Cheat on your boyfriend much at work," replied Becky, right in front of Amy's boyfriend Mike.

"Oh my God," thought Becky as she heard what Sue said with her mouth.

"Stop whining Becky," said Sue internally.

Sue went through the rest of the school day as Becky, including cheerleading practice. Becky was trying her hardest to get Sue to fall asleep. Sue struck a match to light the cigarette she bummed from Jason Blumenthal, the guy Sue always wanted Becky to date. Jason was hardly the right fit for the popular crowd with his army surplus overcoat and black hiking boots.

"Becky, you're smoking. If Coach Kamholtz sees you, you'll get suspended," reprimanded Tina.

"Thanks Tina. Why don't you go suck up to Coach right now, 'cause I'm kinda busy," suggested Becky.

"Becky, what's gotten into you," asked Maria, another member of the squad.

"Oh nothing, just enjoying a little freedom," Becky replied.

Cheerleading was not something Sue ever wanted to do. Neither did Danny, but then again, life sucks being the only male personality in a female body. When "Becky" finally got finished with all the activities at school, she had to go home and finish her homework. Sue handled Spanish with ease, but U.S. History was making her eyes droop. When she woke up, she saw the familiar table and chairs, with Becky, Danny, and Emily waiting to play a few hands.

"What did you do," asked Becky. "If my friends don't kill me tomorrow, they certainly won't speak to me."

"Quit bitching Becky. If you stopped complaining, you might notice how good you got it," shouted Danny.

"Yeah," said Sue, amazed at her agreement with Danny.

"I don't really want to play poker tonight," said Emily.

"Too bad," smiled Danny, "hand's been dealt."

They played 3-2-1, a kind of five card draw where the lowest card in the hand at the end of the game was each player's individual wild card. Becky thought she had the winning hand, the "3" was her wild card and she had a royal flush. Danny smiled as he laid down five aces.

When Becky woke up the next morning, Danny was at the helm. Being a guy personality, he smiled with horny pleasure when he saw Becky’s breasts in the mirror. He fondled her breasts while he showered.

"Um, you can stop that any time," shouted Becky from inside her head.

"I could, but why would I," Danny said laughing.

"This is going to be fun," thought Danny to himself, er herself.

Danny put on Becky's jeans and an Abercrombie sweatshirt. He pulled her hair back into a ponytail and stuffed it under a baseball cap. No make up today. All eyes were on her as she entered the school.

"Becky, is that you," asked Billy Stevens.

"Sure thing bro," Becky replied.

She moved in and kissed Billy right in front of Tina. However, kissing Billy did not feel right. So, Becky moved over to Tina and kissed her. Quite a passionate kiss and "Becky" decided to fondle Tina's breasts, having explored her own in the shower this morning. Billy and the other guys on the basketball team stood there in shock. Becky smiled as she walked off to chemistry class.

"Everyone is talking about your little show this morning in the Senior Commons," said Julie, a fellow cheerleader, as she put her lab equipment away

"Jealous that I didn't kiss you," said Becky sweetly. "I mean, I know how much you like playing for both teams."

"That was a one time thing and you said it didn't bother you," replied Julie.

"Didn't bother me, but it sure seems to bother you," Becky retorted. "See you at practice."

Gym class was the highlight of Danny's day as Becky. He was like a kid in a candy store and no male appendages to draw attention to his visual stimulation. After school, Tina, Julie, and Amy didn't say a word during practice and Becky enjoyed throwing her fellow cheerleaders in the air for the new Pack the Place Night cheer. She went home exhausted and fell asleep after finishing her biology homework.

"Ahhh. You women have the life," said Danny as he pulled up his black chair to the table. "I think I'll win again tonight."

"No more betting." said Becky. "You guys are ruining my life."

"You're not happy popular. You're not happy when we give you a rest. You're not happy with anything," Sue responded. "By the way Danny, nice move with Billy and Tina today."

"Yeah, and thanks for making Julie totally freaked out today," added Becky.

"Just relax. I was having some fun," said Danny.

"Let's play some cards," said Emily to shock of the other three. "Somebody's gonna have to put things right."

"Well, how 'bout some strip poker tonight," suggested Danny.

"I think you've seen enough boobs today," Becky retorted.

"Oh yeah," said Danny smiling.

Emily dealt the cards for Baseball, another odd poker game that would take to long to explain. The cards fell in Emily's favor and she won Becky's body for the day.

"Don't worry Becky, I'll fix things," explained Emily.

"Just have a normal day, please," begged Becky.

Becky woke this morning under Emily's control. Emily found a baby blue sundress and some white sneakers. She made breakfast for her parents and they talked about all sorts of things. Her parents were stunned because Becky usually rushed to school to slug down a Slimfast in the cafeteria with her friends.

"Hey guys," said Becky to her friends and teammates sitting in the Commons.

"Um, hi," said Amy. "Do you need something?"

"No, I just wanted to apologize for the last couple days. Things have been so hectic that I just don't know where my head was at," explained Becky.

"Or your mouth," said Tina.

"I'm really sorry," said Becky, "I don't know what I was thinking."

"Well maybe you should think about the Pack the Place game and how we have a reputation to uphold," said Amy as she gathered her books and left.

"This is going to be tough," thought Emily.

"No doubt," shouted Becky from the white table.

"Becky" wandered through the rest of her day, trying to make amends for Danny and Sue's behavior. Most people just ignored Becky's behavior - she was the most popular girl in school, after all. Even Amy, Julie, and Tina were coming around after relentless pursuit by Emily "Becky." Billy Stevens and Jason Blumenthal couldn't wait to talk to Becky and they cornered her at the same time.

"Uh Becky, could I talk to you," asked Jason.

"Sure Jason," said Becky, as Billy ran up behind her and hugged her.

"But if you're busy, I could come back," replied Jason.

"Naw dude, chill for a minute. I just gotta ask Becky a question," said Billy.

"Oh no," thought Emily.

"Becky, I was thinking we should go out to a movie Friday night, ok," suggested Billy. Jason's eyes sank deeper into his head.

"Um sure," said Becky. Emily did not know if Becky wanted to do this. Billy ran off with the rest of his teammates. Jason, too, began to walk away.

"Jason wait," called Becky.

"Nah, it's ok," said Jason dejectedly.

"Jason, do you wanna go out for a smoke after school," asked Becky. Emily didn't smoke, but she figured she could smooth over Jason's ego if Becky shared a cigarette with him.

"Cool," said Jason with a small smile.

Emily got home and couldn't wait to get out of Becky's body. She took a nap as soon as she walked into her house. Nobody was waiting at the table. Emily was confused, but Sue and Becky walked in from opposite directions.

"Where's Danny," asked Emily.

"He's looking at my lockerroom memories," said Becky as she shook her head. "How did the day go?"

"Everything is fine," said Emily. "I had a cigarette with Jason after class and we are going to the movies with Billy on Friday."

"Oh shit," said Becky.

"What," asked Sue.

"Tina is in love with Billy. Remember, or were you guys sleeping when Tina told us, I mean, me this," explained Becky.

"Well, he's not my type, but Tina sure is," said Danny, looking quite satisfied.

"No, we're done with you guys taking the reins of my body," said Becky.

"Care to bet on that," Danny inquired.

“No,” Becky shouted.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun,” taunted Danny.

"This is it. If I win, you guys give up on trying my body on for size," said Becky.

"You're on," said Danny and Sue, with Emily looking over their shoulders.

Emily dealt a simple hand of five card stud. After the betting was done, the winning hand was three jacks. The next day, Becky had a cigarette with Jason Blumenthal by bike racks.

writer's block

2005-09-05T01:32:00.000-05:00

Okay, so I am trying something new with this blog. I am going to post a short story that I wrote and allow people to comment.

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away . . . .

2005-05-25T12:30:00.000-05:00

a big nerd like me became a closet Star Wars fan. Yes folks, the saga has ended with the release of Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. To say I have waited a long time is an understatement. I was three and a half when Star Wars: A New Hope was released in 1977. Yes, I saw it. Yes, I loved it. And Yes, I saved my Star Wars action figure proofs of purchase to get the Boba Fett action figure.

So, I went an saw Episode III three times already, just to get all the nuances I may have missed. Let me say this - it was freakin' awesome. Everything I expected in this film happened. The action was intense and the saber battles were incredible. Of course, George Lucas is not the best dialogue writer, especially for love scenes. He needs a lot of work in that department. Sadly, Amidala kinda becomes wimpy in this movie. She goes from badass in Episodes I and II to a damsel in distress in Episode III. How is this the woman that took back her own castle in the Phantom Menace and whooped ass on Geonosis in Attack of the Clones? Sure, she's pregnant and all, but even my mom could kick a little ass when she was pregnant with me.

By the way - Yoda kicks ass. The little green guy just knows the score and takes care of business. Plus, judging by the laughter in the theatre, he has some kind of wookie girlfriend (explanation: Yoda says, as he is set to go save the wookie homeworld, "Good relations with the wookies have I." The audience always erupted in laughter at that line. Likely, many of these audience members have good relations with their hands, since they know not the touch of a woman. C'mon guys. It's Yoda and he talks backwards. No need to read your own sexual desires into the dialogue. If you want to have sex with a guy in a wookie suit, go to a furry party. Don't mess with Yoda.)

Darth Vader comes to be. This is the moment we had been waiting for since learning that he was Luke's father in Empire Strikes Back. We all took the same gut punch that Luke took. "Why did Ben Kenobi lie to us?" Well, as you watch Anakin's decent into darkness, you sort of understand how it happened. No, I don't feel pity for Anakin. I just understand how he came to be Darth Vader. However, some dialogue (or maybe deleted scenes) are needed to make it easier to take when Anakin goes from bringer of justice (in his mind) to slayer of Jedi.

Some questions remain unexplained: Why do Obi Wan and Yoda disappear when they die? Why didn't they erase R2's memory too? Where did Obi Wan come up with the name Ben? George - tell us you have some deleted scenes, please.

Now, the original trilogy is still the best, but I am not like the complainers who claim Lucas destroyed his story with the little boy who would be Darth thing. Did I think Episodes I - III were classic cinema? No way. But I loved them because I was in a galaxy far, far away with Jedi (plural - just like moose - one moose or two moose). Jedi are the coolest characters. They get a light saber and powers of the force. We have an awesome story told in six parts. Maybe you didn't like Jar Jar. But, I don't see you writing an epic story like this. However, I am on your side on some things after watching the trilogy on DVD. 1) Greedo shooting first - this is bullshit. I like the fact that Han shot first. He was getting rid of guy who was trying to kill him or turn him in. 2) The exploding ring around the death star - that is just showing off for Lucasfilm. 3) The Ewoks - Did Lucas digitally multiply them in Jedi? Jesus, they are like fleas. 4) The ghost scene at the end of Jedi - Luke looks and sees Ben, Yoda, and the young Anakin? What the fuck? I dig Hayden Christiansen (except when he does love scenes), but what was wrong with Sebastian Shaw (the old guy playing Anakin as a ghost)?

I thought about what I would do if I lived in this galaxy and had those powers. I would never have been able to be a Jedi. I wouldn't use my powers the right way. And I would use my lightsaber to open mail, pop beer caps off, and keep the Black Knight at bay. It would be an awesome power and that is just the weapon. Now imagine having the force. You could do some sinister things to improve your life, such as obtaining money from the bank ATM, convincing a girl that she doesn't need to wear all those clothes, and even force blast people out of your way. But, I could never be a Sith either. Being evil all the time sucks. Not only that, but everyone is after you. I say you should just stay off the radar and take care of yourself. That's what I would do.

car theft

2005-05-24T13:15:00.000-05:00

So Friday night, I left my car unlocked (something I almost never do). What happened? Some moron (or morons) went in my car and swiped a few things:

1) my checkbook
2) my change
3) my electric razor

Here is what they did not take:

1) my cds
2) my dvds
3) my stereo or sound system
4) my ipass

This theft didn't really bother me. I mean, it was only 4 bucks in change. Also, the checkbook isn't an issue because I closed the account and did all my credit protection stuff that my mom tells me about daily in some panic-filled email. What confuses me is why did they steal my electric razor? It wasn't a great one, and the blades were so old that it nicked my face. But, it was my razor. I wonder if it is okay. Are the thieves using the little brush to clean the blades of old facial hair? Are they not using it near a water source? Are they using it on their faces or on some unmentionable area? Not that you should ever manscape with an electric razor, but who knows with today's thieves.

My only real sadness is that these are the dumbest theives ever. I had 50 cds and 10 dvds in the car. Not a bad haul for a thief, especially since my entire Weezer collection was in the cd case. But they left that stuff right on my front passenger seat. That is certainly okay that they were bad thieves because I went out and bought a new razor and got 50 bucks in gas card for opening a new checking account. Thank you to my little thieves. Enjoy the ball shaver.

journals

2005-05-18T11:24:00.000-05:00

I was cleaning out my closets this weekend (I'm sorry momma). You never know what amazing treasure, or stunning pieces of crap, you will find. Stuff that you amassed over the years from trips, as gifts, or plain old things you stole from your neighbor's trash at 3 a.m. on a Sunday.

I found a journal that I had written while I was in college. Talk about memories. Talk about what the fuck was I thinking? I must have been drunk for most of those entries. Then I was hit by a bolt of lightining. I am doing a journal again. Right here, as you read, I am doing a journal. Only this time, something is different. I am trying to entertain people here. In the paper journal, I wrote my thoughts and feelings on deep events and occurrences. I would bare my soul on a piece of paper, knowing that in the years to come, I would be the only one to read it.

This blog is similar but not quite. I certainly am writing thoughts and feelings down, but I am not necessarily sharing the deep stuff. Not unless I think it will entertain my readers (do I have readers?) or advance the blog.

Years from now, I may still be writing, or maybe I will have put this blog in the internet closet. More years later, I will Google myself and probably find this blog and laugh. Then I will put on my mind helmet and broadcast my thoughts to people directly. Hmmm.

they write the sad songs

2005-05-18T08:00:00.000-05:00

So, I am jamming to my iPod and the shuffle brings up a rarity: three songs in a row by three of the saddest artists/groups I know. By sad, I mean melancholy, not lame, although one of the three certainly could fall in the lame category too. What were the songs? I know you are dying to know. "Hold Me" by Weezer; "I'm Just A Kid" by Simple Plan; and "One Foot In Front of the Other" by Bright Eyes. Talk about sadness - it was a festival of depression.

So here we have Rivers Cuomo from Weezer, Pierre Bouvier from Simple Plan, and the ever-morose Conor Oberst. This made me think about something off-the-wall (like I need very much to cause this to happen). I saw Weezer and Bright Eyes at Coachella Music and Arts Festival last month with my two buddies, Ricker and Finnerty. Finnerty was very right in pointing out that Rivers and Conor must be the saddest guys in the world. The songs are an obvious commentary on things that affect our lives, and theirs. Why a Simple Plan? I was watching "Cheaper by the Dozen" (no comment on my movie choice unless you wanna pay my cable bill); the film company chose "I'm Just A Kid" to accentuate some sad moment in one of the kid character's lives. What is wrong with that choice? The song is about a guy looking life and just being so sad that it sucks so bad. The film company saw the title and heard the upbeat tune and said "get this song in the movie."

Why are these guys so sad? Well, Rivers is getting older. He is the lovable geek who writes and sings songs about looking at the world through those geek glasses. Pierre is probably sad because his songs have been co-opted into movie soundtracks and cable television series. That, and he is French Canadian. Conor is just plain sad. I don't know if it is because he is from Omaha, or what. But this guy is just damn sad.

Anyways, on to the point of this post. Finnerty, Ricker, and I joked about what would happen if Conor and Rivers got together, maybe even to write a song. Then I thought, what if Pierre showed up. Now we are talking about the creation of a black hole of misery that quite possibly could rip the fabric of existence itself. Would Pierre try to add some catchy punk-pop beat? If you believe that, I would suggest you listen to "Welcome to My Life" - wait, that might confirm your thought. Listen to "Untitled (How Could This Happen to Me)." If you really want to be depressed, watch the video. Sad songs are big business. Sure, upbeat songs make people dance and sing and all that shit. But, we all have gotten mix tapes (or mix CDs for you young'ns out there). Every one of those tapes has some fucking sad song that everyone knows. Who doesn't know the lyrics to "Every Rose Has Its Thorn."

My master plan should go into effect immediately. Rivers, Conor, and Pierre - please get to work on the ultimate sad song. One that is just sad enough to make it onto a great mix CD, but not so sad that we all go into a coma of depression.

Radio Ga Ga

2005-05-16T01:26:00.000-05:00

So, once again, I found myself in Champaign, Illinois this weekend. I was downstate for a graduation ceremony at Illinois State University (my undergrad alma mater) and then went to U of I to visit the rest of my friends there. First stop was to see my friend and business partner, Shampooh (Ben Garbe - aka, $uck$ex, NBL, or DJ Tanner), who was graduating too. Always a plus, Ben had on a red dress shirt and a yellow-ish tie (he looked like a professional Winnie the Pooh). Then, I jumped over to Casa de Lawton for a cookout. Now, when I was driving, Planet Paul (name to be explained later) called to let me know about this cookout at Lawton's. I was expecting the traditional cookout with a grill that would be waist-high. Nope, there on the balcony was the little kettle grill people use at tailgates. Gotta love cooking that close to the ground. Fitz was there too, which was cool, as was my personal Dr. Gonzo, Brant G.

We enjoyed hot dogs and burgers while watching the Clone Wars on the Cartoon Network. This cartoon is awesome because it fills in the time period between Episodes II and III. Ricker finally woke up and showered (poor Ry was on a 36-hour finals bender), and we headed over there for beer pong and caps. I was going to head out of town early so I could get home. CPR (yet another name to be explained later) and Fitz all knew that I would stay. I didn't play caps - I am not good at the game, nor am I down with the lingo.

After several games, we all managed to get moving to the White Horse, a local watering hole on Green Street. Now this is where I begin to realize several things. All of us have a connection - a little piece of heaven known as WPGU (one of very few commercial radio stations run by students). Now, the guys of CPR first became my friends in April 2004 when WPGU celebrated its 50th Anniversary by inviting the alums down to U of I to see the station today and remember times gone by. Faster friends I have never made, and they are among the best ones I know. (Blog Sap Alert - could I be anymore cheesy and sentimental? Yes, I can. So fuck you - this is my blog, not yours). What I realized was that these guys would stand by me no matter what hair-brained idea I came up with, including the one where I quit being a lawyer and buy a radio station.

I also realized that it is not a good idea to snort salt. How did I get to that point? Well, we were toasting all sorts of things that night, and Lawton toasted with ranch dressing. The ranch was on the table for the cheese fries we devoured earlier. Too bad Jon the Cubs Fan (JTFC) showed up later and only could drink with us and not eat cheese fries. But JTFC did show up and the party was complete (yes, I know there were no girls there, but it was a guys night out). So, Lawton downs some ranch, and then I follow suit and raise him a shot of ketchup (you catsup lovers can also get your own blog because the word is spelled K-E-T-C-H-U-P). Lawton calls with his own shot of ketchup. I go "all in" with a line of salt off the back of my hand. Lawton matches. I can do no more.

We all realized that the waitress severely undercharged us on the tab. So we tipped her well. Why not? She brought us free wings earlier in the evening, so she earned it.

And what I finally realized is that I have a pretty sweet life and a bunch of kick ass friends, from U of I to the guys monopolizing my couch right now. Next thing to do is realize that I need a girlfriend.

smmmm?

2005-05-12T10:34:00.000-05:00

So, someone emailed me already and asked me what "smmmm" means? Well, I was brought into the world as a Catholic (save your tears, I recovered). We get like a new name every time we mark some event in our lives (communion, confirmation - you probably get another name at death). It's weird, I know. Why do you think I left? My name at birth was Sean Martin McCumber.

Then there was communion, so I added Matthew to my name. BUT WAIT, there's more. Confirmation - to both Catholics and Protestants - is when a kid affirms the oath made at baptism and joins the church. Hey, I made no oath at baptism. I was two months old. I do believe that puked on the priest though. I bet he was having flashbacks of the Exorcist. Anyways, at confirmation, I added Michael to my name.

So, SMMMM = Sean Matthew Michael Martin McCumber

Maybe I should have chosen Lucius and Anthony so my initials would be SLAMM, but, it's my name and that's what I thought was cool at 13. Dumbass.

um, is this thing on?

2005-05-12T00:19:00.000-05:00

Okay, so I am late in joining this blog craze and I think I must be partially lame for doing this. However, technology is creeping in everywhere, so I did it. You know what, it took me 20 attempts to come up with my login name. Apparently, there are at least 20 people out there who have similary traits or personality quirks as me. I know everyone has a doppelganger, but 20 of them? C'mon. I'm not that special.

So, what to type. My friend, misslizza, is super witty on her blog and I read it whenever I can. I mean, where else can you find someone who intelligently rationalizes about finding a bug in her bag of organic salad mix. Then there is my friend Fitz - this guy has a rapier wit and I am always happy that I have managed to stay on his good side. If you want to see good writing, check his blog out. So, now I have paid homage to people I know.

I guess I have to start writing my own thoughts. That may take some time to ponder. While I do, salivate over such upcoming topics: my crazy attempt at starting a record label; my jewish partner in grime who works in Wisconsin; my plan to own a radio station; my sad attempt at love. What blog would be complete without a failed love interest.
Later