Eleven

This is probably one of the top 5 greatest moments in Film History.

If Only....

If I could do this I would to about half the drivers in Houston. Like a good Christian.

What's the 411 on Myspace?

So what's up with Myspace? Is is my imagination or is it getting progressively suckier. First of all, I am getting so tired of all the scantily clad floozy-chick-dating service advertisements. It is REALLY getting annoying. Yesterday, I am at church, I have a student coming in for a guitar lesson, I click on Myspace to check for messages and some HUGE pic of a girl with her rear half-hangin' out plopps up on my computer screen, UNINVITED. The pastor walks by my open door at my church office and sees this kid looking at a chick on the computer screen and a frantically clicking Seth trying to get the STUPID advertisement off my CHURCH COMPUTER. Needless to say, my pastor and the kid get a big kick out of me and the predicament I which I have been helplessly thrust.

It is not just this but the flash advertisements have increased exponetially. The stupid little game advertisements have become so powerful and memory-eating that it takes twice as long for the songs to load and sometimes I am, against my will, taken to a page because the games that these advertisements use to lure potential idiots, are so asinine that they actually win all by THEMSELVES, without you EVER EVEN PLAYING THEM! (However, I did try that one where George Bush was boxing Mike Tyson. That one was kinda cool)

Is this what happens when something cool is taken over by "the man"??? I can only surmise that this has happened. "Tom" is no longer really at the helm. It seems to me that some corporate money-grubbing jerk has come along and said "hey, this is the wave of the future, a haven for Indies, good and bad, and normal everyday Joes. Lets take it over, saturate it with already established artists and well known figures in pops culture and screw it up!!!!!

Sorry for all the venting here, I realize that there are much worse things going on in the world like oh, um.... WWIII, and I am too busy lately paying attention to the craziness in the Middle-East to do the Myspace research, So if anyone feels the need to do "something to take your mind off that pain" ?(name that movie), fill me in on the Myspace scoop.

The Real Deal

Pastors can be like mercenaries. They swoop in to the building, preach their slick sermons and off they go. Books to meet, people to sign. If you find a church where you have a true shepherd for a pastor then you have found a rare thing these days. We are blessed enough to go to such a church.

We met with our Pastor for worship planning this morning and Phil Lineberger (our pastor) told us, in a passing statement, that he called an elderly man today just because he was thinking about him. The elderly chap had lost his wife of 65 years last year and Phil just wanted to make sure he was doing okay. The old man told Phil that it sure is a "whole lot different this side of the casket." At this Phil said he began to weep with and for the brokenhearted and lonely elderly man.

Phil is a man's, man. He's about 6'2 or 6'3 and he played college football for Arkansas back in the day. He is a big smart Texan and I have rarely met a man who has such a big heart. He will start talking about a little child he read about in the paper who was made homeless or a victim of war and he will become visibly moved and that compassion he feels is contagious. It is probably no genetic coincidence that his granddaughter wants to be the president of Compassion someday, and she means it.

His grandkids love him to death. He tells them "Papa" stories and they at times will include elaborate props. He also does this thing called "Papa's Kitchen" where he will make a menu for the grandkids and they get to order before they go to sleep.

I fear that Phil is part of a rare and decreasing breed of pastor where the pastor actually cares for, gets to know, serves, and loves his whole congregation.

Do you all have pastors like this? Is this a fading thing??? As churches get bigger and better it seems to be the growing trend. I hope not. Whatever the case, I am thankful that I have had this kind of teacher, pastor, and friend the past 3 years.

The true reason we get along so well is that we are fellow pranksters.

Still love a Good Storm

There is something exciting about a thunderstorm. I admit that I kinda love em.' I think I am probably the only soul in Houston that likes rainy days or thunderstorms. So as one living in the flooding capitol of Texas, I must constantly clarify my love for rain. "I mean, I don'’t want to get my canoe out and drift down to the neighbor'’s house for some bread and on the way rescue a desperately paddling wiener-dog and a grandma, but SOMETIMES a good, normal, rainy day or a morning Thunderstorm really hits the psychological spot."

As a matter of fact I have always loved a good storm. I even knew the scientific term for the clouds in a thunderstorm by age 12, "Cumulonimbus." In my younger years, Tornados would totally mesmerize me. When I was a kid I wanted to see a tornado so bad that I used to pray that there would be a tornado if a thunderstorm hit. (as you pause for a baffled look at the computer) It's true people. One night when I was about 13 my younger sister and I were on a road trip with our parents traveling through Tornado-alley-Oklahoma and we were caught in a VERY nasty thunderstorm. As the car was being tossed about by severe wind and nasty rain, I actually tried to get my sister to pray that there would be a tornado. That little scene went something like this:

Me: "April, God said that when two or more are gathered then He will answer"
Younger Sister: "NO! I am not going to pray with you just so you can see a tornado" (staring bewildered at me.)

My mom overheard me unsuccessfully trying to convince my sister to PRAY FOR A TORNADO and just about smacked me.

My mom: "WHAT ARE YOU DOING??? DON'T PRAY FOR A TORNADO YOU IDIOT. If I hear or see you praying for a tornado I swear I will stop this car, drag you out in the rain and leave you there in case God answers your prayers"

My Dad: "Son, quit prayin' for tornados." glancing at me in the rear-view mirror. "That's the Stupidest thing I've ever heard"

The obsession lingered into my later teens and in high school my best friend and I would jump into his cruddy Ford Pinto and go Tornado Chasing. Finally the fiery obsession was doused in one swift move with the movie "Twister." Bill Paxton just sucked all the glory out of that hobby.

George Lucas... the Man of Soul ?????

I have a theory. I don’t come up with conspiracy theories very often but when I do, they are usually dead on. Are you ready for this one? This will shake you to the very core of your soul. It will cause you to question everything you know about life and what you thought bound it all together.

I believe that George Lucas and Soul Singer Michael McDonald……

ARE THE SAME PERSON.

That’s right folks. You heard it here first. I always suspected this because there were reports of Lucas never being in the same place as McDonald or when there were Michael McDonald concerts scheduled Lucas would miss important screenings of his Star Wars movies. Even with all of this evidence I still remained a skeptic…until now.

I have ascertained a copy of the original cut from “The Empire Strikes Back.” Evidently George Lucas and Composer John Williams went round and round about “some music” that Lucas wanted in this scene and Williams didn’t. Williams apparantley threatened to go public with “some information” if Lucas did not back down from his request. Apparently, Williams won the argument and was afterwards scene driving a different sports car every other day for a year all with the license tag that said “GLISMYBCH”

No one has ever been able to decipher the code until now.

I will leave that to my readers as not offend any innocent eyes who are easily offended.

So here it is folks, you must watch all 2:30 to learn the truth. It may seem subtle to some but to me, it is apparent that these two men… well just watch and see. I warn you, I only offer the truth. Nothing else.

Sing Along with Logan (Amazing Grace)

I had to share this video with you guys. I just can't help but be reminded when I watch this father/son duo here, that this is how our lives play out when we submit to our father's will. I have been in several (friendly) predestination conversations lately with a few of my Clavinist buddies and I it seems like I have drafted and verbalized a thousand different ways to describe God's sovereign will and our choice but this little video kind of sums it up for me. There is a delicate and marvelous balance in our existence of God ordaining our days and us strumming along. I can only hope to have this kind of innocence, trust and wonder as things unfold from day to day.

Thanks for the helping me understand one of our faith's great mysteries and for setting a great example Logan!

Jesus said to them, "Yes. Did you never read,'Out of the mouth of babes and nursing babies you have perfected praise?'"

Adam the Healer or.... the ANTICHRIST!!!????

So I am sitting down to have some New Testament Grape Juice at our friends house last night and we flipped to the ABC news special about this charachter Adam who says that he heals people using telekenisis/quantum physics/magic to heal people.

The weirdest part of the story is how he came about this power. Goes a little somethin' like this.

He has a dream. The spirit tells him to go to this island in the middle of a lake. His parents take him. On that island he meets up with a big black crow and goes into a kind of trance. This bird imparts upon him the secrets of science and he can now heal people.

I don't think I would have been so weirded out seeing this news special if I had not just been watching an hour or so of what looked to be the middle-east on the brink of WWIII.

Now don't get me wrong I don't think this charachter is the Anti-Christ (at least right now anyway) but I do believe that our friendly anti-christ will look and perform miracles that resemble something like this. Here is a part of that report.

"Adam says when he is trying to heal a person he sees a "quantum hologram" — a representation of the combined energy of everyone in the room.

"I'm not actually sure what it is I do. I go into this trance," says Adam. "I don't see anything else around me except for this person in front of me. And then I'm just changing these things, this image in front of me."

He says he uses his hands to fix breaks in the energy flow, which allows the healing to begin.

But Adam can't guarantee the success of his work.

Mavis Joy went to Adam to get healed and says her lymphadema did not get better. And another time, when "Primetime" cameras were rolling, Adam correctly diagnosed a woman as having minor back and shoulder problems but completely missed her bigger problem: breast cancer."

Five Cent Stand Up and Running On itunes

Greetings one and all! If you haven't had a chance to order off for a CD because:

1. You are too poor,

2. You are a lamo
3. It is too much trouble to get a paypal account (which you don't need anymore anyway to order from paypal)
4. You desperately want to order but you are trapped under something heavy (quick quick, what movie?)

Well I have some good news for you. We are up and running on itunes. So drop by and write a review if you like. The slate is fresh as of tonight.

Cheers to one and all.

MUST SEE

I saw this a week back on Brant's blog and just had to show it. For those of you who lived through the 80's (and can remember it, clearly) we must come to terms with fashion and artistic reparations. I think I should be getting a check in the mail for the damage to my psyche.

I think the drummer looks a little like the bass player on "This is Spinal Tap"

Steve Perry looks a bit like my friend Joey. Joey didn't you buy those actual jeans at an auction or on Ebay?

Stream

Stream of conscience is a fun thing sometimes.
feel free to interpret how you wish...








They stood as sweaty men
Shaking hands with good news still dripping from their brow
Bibles in hand beating all with their muscular voices
They spoke of freedom, love and hell.
“United, we can be one by never being one”
Power was given unto them to cover the face of the earth with Joy
For a while there was joy
This joy became power
The Love became love of power to contain and control

Now on the graves of dead preachers
Spirit to Spirit their children cry out
They still reach for our hands
Through their coffins, through the dirt
Yet their children find only the hands passing up bread of hate
Hands that should have shaped clay into sons and daughters
Still shaping vessels of fool’s gold that hold trash and hate.

The old cemetery guard is dying in his sleep
Where once his great schools graduated thinkers and men
Now they graduate hands who wish to control and water graves with new sweat
Hands that still thrust allegiance straight to fear himself and claim the land
Voices that boom still in their hallways and then in buildings of
Brass, marble, chandeliers, Cadillacs, and mirrors

“Hail Me! Hail my Church in the Name of Jesus and Me. My way and no other!
Lock the doors, let no one in!”
There words caught fire to the curtains hiding the light.
Their building is now burning
Where once their sweat was from the fire in their belly
It comes from the fire of their burning buildings and burning buses.
The buses that drove children to a great assembly
To vote for them, the procurers of fear and power.
And still they stamp down the dirt around their graves and
Where the thorns grow that keep them safe and still.
Power from Power to Power for Power.
We left the garden to them and they grew more thorns.


Among the thorns of Eden something new grows
A new wind blows these days
Still she rises, she blooms,
Beautiful
She pushes through the stones of guilt and hate
Through the war, blood, and lies, choking the thorns
A strange flower blooms
She rises from the ashes of burnt buses and pillars
She is their children and they are us.

Those Children are now turning from your divided fold
Spirit that parted the waters is now flowing through them
Fresh and clean they lean towards the wind to listen.
They can hear again the voice of their Shepherd
They are the Church now
We are the Church now
The flower blooms from the rotted wood of your coffin
A beauty from your ashes
A new Love unites us
A true Body is found there.

Somewhere in the faint memory of our soul begotten from yours
We heard the voice of our Shepherd say:

“Take and eat, this is My Body”
“Take and drink, this is My Blood”

We are coming to the table again to eat and remember.

No longer will we point our fingers in vain to ourselves for truth
We will eat again from what was buried in fertile soil of the Garden planted long before
Planted where no flame can reach from Hells gate
Watered deep by the blood of the Saints
The Son of the Living God burned in Her veins, her roots, and so again in ours

Farewell Church of the divided
Farwell Church of thorns
Farwell Church of fear and neglect

This we do this in remembrance of Him.

Moon Day

I am having one of those days. You know the ones. Staring into space. Wondering what to do, somewhere between sleepiness and restlessness. Not caring if your sentences are fragments. Liking fragments. More fragments. Necessary.

It is kind of an all-around numbness yet you are acutely aware of your numbness so it isn't depression. You sadly feel too optimistic for depression.

I think it just may be... Mondays. Let's face it, there really is something unique to the mood of Monday. The word Monday itself has the least exciting etymology of all the days. All the other Days are named after cool Norse gods and such but Monday, it's just named after the good ole' moon. Not that I don't admire the moon and it's unique light but it might as well be...Airday. Winday. Dirtday. Poopday. There has got to be something we can do with this Monday business right? Like... There should be some kind of good news that everyone gets on Monday that makes them forget that it is Monday!!! For instance,


"Dear Seth,

We are pleased to inform you that you have won a trip to Middle Earth (New Zealand) to walk the path of Frodo and Sam and scale Mount Doom to where One Ring was forged. You will be accompanied by none other than the real life Gandalf. Bring your pipe and plenty of pipe-weed. Also, God has decided that he will be allowing you to DEFY GRAVITY today. That's right my friend, you can fly your way to New Zealand if you like. Also, did we mention that the world of Star Wars is real and in your right front drawer there is a light-saber with your name inscribed on the bottom dilithium-titanium plate?

Last but not least, you are allowed to eat anything you want today and barely get full so you can eat more and more of all that food that would normally make you as fat as a happy Bison. In fact, what the heck, it's Monday... The more you eat the skinnier and more fit you get.



Enjoy your Monday you lucky, lucky Man.

Sincerely,

The Intergalactic Department for Better Mondays"


So back to reality. Now that I have indulged in a fantasy that included half the deadliest sins, what do you do to spice up your Mondays? Any suggestions?

Anyone cracked that Telekinesis thing lately?

One last indulgence- (makes me want to be a Medieval Catholic)

If you had your choice between:

1. Using the Force for a day
2. Flying
3. Spending a Day in Middle Earth fighting evil
4. Spend the entire day riding Roller Coasters while eating endless Chick fil A sandwiches and Drinking Sweet Tea.
5. Indiana Jones and Star Wars Marathon
6. Halo Marathon while eating Powdered Doughnuts and Drinking Chocolate Milk

Which would you choose?

P.S. Yes, I am this big of a Nerd.

You Gotta Love Mac

Taken from the Wikipedia on the Life of Carl Sagan.

In 1994, Apple Computer began developing the Power Macintosh 7100. They chose the internal code name "Carl Sagan," in honor of the astronomer. Though the project name was strictly internal and never used in public marketing, when Sagan learned of this internal usage, he sued Apple Computer to use a different project name — other projects had names like "Cold fusion" and "Piltdown Man", and he was displeased at being associated with what he considered pseudoscience. Though Sagan lost the suit, Apple engineers complied with his demands anyway, renaming the project "BHA" (Butt-Head Astronomer). Sagan sued Apple for libel over the new name, claiming that it subjected him to contempt and ridicule. Sagan lost this lawsuit as well; still, the 7100 saw another name change: it was lastly called "LAW" (Lawyers Are Wimps).

Einstein Anyone?

I've been reading an insane amount lately. I can't stop. I should stop. I have music to write. Lots of it. I am stuck on...You ready for this...

Physics, science, design.

Intelligent design has had a bad rap lately but I really don't care. All of this started way back in my sophomore year in College before Intelligent design was a big fat sword of the religious right to smack everyone around the head with.

I have never liked math or science. In fact, I have hated it. Partly because I have had the real-life versions of the teacher in "Ferris Bueller's Day off." Bueller...Bueller...anyone?

Anywho, it wasn't until an ex-construction-company-owner who decided to get a masters in Math and taught a class one summer at my hometown college MSU that mathematics, that physics took hold of my imagination. (It also helped that I went straight from this class to Astronomy) Somehow this guy was able to relate math to life. I don't mean everyday life as in, "is a 45 degree angle the distance between the ladder and the wall then what is the blah blah blahdidy blah let me polish my pocket protector." I mean philosophy, math, life, the Science of God.

We miss out on this in our schools. The great mathematicians were also great philosophers. Pythagoras, Descartes, Plato, Aristotle. They were also great thinkers and dreamers. Einstein, Newton, Galileo. It took great imagination to dream up all that these chaps dreamed. I just wish that these subjects could be taught now with the awe and wonder that they deserve. Not cut off from the things that could cause us to wonder and dream. I wouldn't be slaving over relativity now at 30+ when the file cabinets of my mind are already heavy and full of TV shows and endless, useless movie quotes.

For instance, did you know that one of the leading atheist physicists of our day has stated, after studying and searching in vain for the smallest particle/energy/building block of life, that "we are almost more of a thought than anything" As a Christian my mind wonders at this statement. Jesus is the Logos, the Word of God or the "thought" of God. Paul and John says all things are held together by and through Him, Christ, the Logos or "thought" of God. Just one of the many things that keep me fired up about science these days.

So what do you think of Intelligent Design. What do you know about it? If you had the opportunity as a teacher, would you slip it in? Is teaching evolution WITHOUT the option of a Creator (or "Mind" as the LEADING SCIENTISTS OF THE DAY INCLUDING STEPHEN FRIGGIN HAWKINGS call it so why can't we?,) the same as teaching from an Atheistic perspective?

The Smell of Play

I went for a walk tonight with my wife. The neighborhood where we are house-sitting is really nice. It has a built-walking track around a semi-park area that is right in the middle of the neighborhood. Away from cars and roads and business. It's kind of like a little quiet central park in Sugarland suburbia. And did I mention it was nice. It is amazing what smells can do to your mind and memory. Fresh cut grass, the faint smell of a grill, and out of nowhere, just for a lingering instance I smelled fresh cinamon rolls. I immagined some kids peeking throught the oven window to see if they were done. I could hear a lawnmower in the distance, a dog barking, maybe kids playing somewhere I couldn't see and the sun was just out of sight. It was just before twilight and it was beautiful.

Walking through the uncommonly cool breeze for this time of year, I remembered back, just for a moment what it was like to not have a care in the world. I remebered what it was like when your only concern was meeting your friend down the street halfway on your bikes. Finding a field of fresh cut grass, gather another friend or two and playing any game that you could invent. It could be a combo of football/dodgeball/baseball/ and war. It was a fantastic time to be alive. I can't believe I was so laden with stress at that age. As I wandered passed these gorgeous upper-middle class homes and fields ripe for play, I was amazed to find not a child in site. Not one. I wonder if it is because kids or parents would get fined if they played on the grass. I wonder if it is fear. Nobody really knows their neighbors anymore and everyone locks their doors, all the time. I don't know what it is but they were sure missing prime play-time.

I am not going to live in fear as a parent. I am not going to let my kids miss out on days like today. I know it's hard not to be afraid but if I have to walk out there and break or pull something playing freeze tag at 40, by golly, they are going to have something to remember someday, like I did tonight.

I'M CCM BAD

So we have been house-sitting for a few days. This morning I picked up a copy of CCM ("Contemporary Christian Music Magazine" for my non-Christian-music-listening-readers/buddies) that our friendly homeonwners subscribe to. Flipping through I have one question to ask every musician in those nifty pictures and advertisements. -"Who died?" EVERY SINGLE PICTURE of a band or solo artist looks like they are on the verge of: 1. Suicidal thoughts 2. Loosing their home to government repossesion or 3. About to kick everybody's butt starting with the camera guy.

I hate to be critical but I find myself sort of depressed as I flip through the pages of uber-solemn-madman-esque glares. I am sure there is a mountain of talent in each artist and it is incredibly important to express oneself, but do we all have to manufacture scowls to be so dang cool? I just don't believe that everyone is that hacked, Christians no less. "I'm Chrisitan and I'M PISSED ABOUT IT so BACK OFF...BUCKO (followed by a rockstar kick and air guitar riff)!!!"

I tend to think that it is simply the "cool" factor kicking in. Its all about acceptance. "The world won't take me seriously unless I look serious, i.e. EXTREMELY ANGRY." I just have this sneaking suspicion that these scowling chaps are really much happier than they appear.

The equivalent was back in the 80's Michael Jackson put out that song and video "Bad" Where he strutted his stuff around like a West Side Story skit on crack. Even I, at the age of 9 didn't buy it. We all knew he was a big wimp and any girl in the dance chorus could have mopped the floor with him.

So come on guys, your touring the States with your best buddies, you've got big record deals, you live in a plush touring bus, you are mostly in good health, AND you are in a magazine which means someone out there likes your music. So come out of that closet, you are really in a good mood. Admit it. Show it. No need to fold your arms and push your bicepts out to make them look bigger. You are who you are, a Jesus Freak and proud of it.

Come on, sing it with me...

"I sing because I'm happy, I sing because I'm free...

A Day In the Life of an A.D.D. Man

You day begins groggily with the feeble but honest thought, "I need to pray." You go to living room to pray and on your way, the need for a cup of coffee is overwhelming. You take a short detour to the coffee maker to start grinding coffee. As you are running the water for the coffee you are reminded that you have not used the bathroom yet since you woke up. You stop the running water and go to the Bathroom. In the bathroom you see a Magazine. This magazine has a very interesting article on the human genome project and you are reminded of the book that you were reading earlier in the week, "A brief History of Everything." This spurs you to go find the book and pick up where you left off. You leave the bathroom to find the book. Luckily it is in the other bathroom where you left it and you sit down in your bedroom to read it. You are happily reading away and realize that you have a bit of a headache. You need caffeine.....Coffee!. You go back to the Coffee machine and find that you have already ground the coffee you just need to pour the water in and press start. This you accomplish not 45 minutes after you first began this task. The coffee is running and you sit down for another chapter. As you read about genetics, the Eve gene, and finally the Human Body and how it is a miracle, something triggers in your mind and you remember that you need to exercise. "I'll go for a run and go work out" you say to yourself enthusiastically. You stop what you are doing and decide to change for working out.

While getting ready your wife calls you and reminds you to mail off a CD on your way to church, to a person who bought online last night. This information somehow reminds you that it is Monday not Tuesday and you remember that you have students in an hour and a half and if you want to work out you need to do it quick. This puts you in a brief state of panic and rush. (the kiss of death for an A.D.D. man) Hurriedly you finish getting ready throwing on a t-shirt and a pair of tennis shoes you get ready to walk out the door. Opening the door, to your amazement you notice that you have forgotten a crucial item of clothing- shorts. You have your t-shirt, running shoes and a pair of underoos. Very annoyed and hurriedly you try to save some time by attempting put on a pair of running shorts over your shoes. You know that this could be disastrous but you try anyways. Five minutes later you have defeated the obstacle but this shorts-over-shoes challenge has left you in a greater hurry. You grab your keys and head for the door. Your mind is racing with how you are going to work out, take a shower, drop the CD off at the post office AND get to your lessons on time all the while small pictures of long DNA strands are flashing in your brain to confuse you further. Half-dazed, with towel and Ipod in hand, you reach the door. You then lift your car clicker to the door and try unsuccessfully to unlock the apartment door.... WITH YOUR CAR-DOOR CLICKER. After a perplexed moment or two you are aware of your lunacy and quickly check again for pants. Good. You have pants. You're out the properly unlocked Door, and you are on your way.

You work out in record time and hop in the shower. Out of the shower, you throw on some clothes. On your way out the door again you see the book that you put down before working out and grab it just in case you have a few no-shows for lessons.

By the end of this day, you have lost your keys a grand total of 6 times, left the CD at home that you were supposed to mail, left the coffee pot on without ever drinking a cup, tried to go workout half naked, attempted to unlock your front door to leave the apartment with your Car Clicker, forgotten to eat, missed the exit for the church, twice, on the way home you've gone to your old apartment complex thinking that you still live there (they actually look alike in your defense) and you never got to do the very first thing you set out to do at the beginning of the day, PRAY.

And let me tell you, their should be volumes on helping those of us with A.D.D. in Prayer, if we actually make it there. This should be a topic for a sunday-school class. "Prayer for bad concentrators." Much more usefule than that ever-so-fascinating study of Leviticus. ZZZZZZZzzzz

This of course does not include all the microcosms of A.D.D. episodes happening WHILE you are doing a task that you FINALLY remember to do.


Can I get an Amen. Can I get a witness.

Ultimately, I blame the TV.

The Grass is Bluer

Swimming pools. We have all had times in our lives where we thought we have wanted them. The young poor Oklahoma boy plays in a sandpile with some hand-me-down G.I. Joes and a couple of worms for massive serpents and thinks to himself "man I wish I had a swimming pool like the O'dells do down the street"

Amber and I have been house sitting now for a day and will be for the next two weeks. In the back yard is a very nice swimming pool. When they asked us to house sit, one of the first comments made to us to tantilize us was "we've got a swimmin' pool" Suddenly my mind is flooded with thoughts of gliding underwater free as a fish or sitting by the pool warming up after a good swim rich-man style.

Truth is, I have yet to step 10 feet of the thing.

Come on, really what is so great about a swimming pool? When you go over to a persons house do you ever see anyone swimming. No. You see a father reluctantly and annoyingly cleaning the sucker, probably thinking "what a pain in the buttcheek" He then probably immagines the water turning to money and watches the money flow in and out of the filters. He would if he were my dad anyway.

Its not just that, its that actual getting in that is also un-fun. (good word, admit it) Especially for men. You know the drill men. You step in, foot by foot. Then as the water makes it's way up your legs your body is covered in tortorous freezing bumps. Then you look down and notice that you have 4 inches left till the freezing water reaches the ole' reproductive compadres. You know this is going to suck so you do a sudden fake out and splash em'. It is a wonder that we do this. I mean, its not like we can really fake em' out or anything. "Hey look! an asteroid!" SPLASH SPLASH!!!! "HA HA fooled you!"

Anyway, I guess the moral of the story is this; I am really wanting to swim but I am too lazy to go an do it. I am trying to find excuses not to swim. If I had the choice I would still pick a house with a swimming pool. You are all going to die someday. Go for a swim.

How's that for wise words?

Splash your neighbor and splash them often!

My deepest and saddest blog yet.

I'm really liking this new Dr. Pepper can. Something about it. Kinda makes me... drinky drinky..... must drink.

I am sitting at church waiting on a student and trying to take my mind off the ferocious tazmanian devil that is my stomach. I have just noticed something. I have been pretty darn serious lately in my blogs. One friend even said "why don't you just tear my heart out! When I read the "I see an angel part", I think my tears just shot out of my eyes and hit my computer screen."

This may be a sign for me to lighten up a bit. Hey, I think I'll do that. I HAVE been pretty darn serious lately and honestly, I am not that serious of a fellow. Honestly, I spend most of my day trying to figure out how to prank people, mostly my good friend Joey. The last prank was a bit harsh. He came to play at our church last weekend and stayed with me and Amber. My friend is a bit of primper and is horribly in love with his hair. Sooooo I decided to make a little trip to his Hair conditioner and replace some of it with a little Hydrogen Peroxide. As I was happily putting the cap back on I noticed that the friggin thing cost like 25 DOLLARS!!! So reluctantly before I shook up my pranking potion I tried to pour out what I had poured in. Well I think I got most of it.

After a few days I called him to break the news to him. (mostly out of curiosity) He laughed, called me a few choice words and told me that he had some pictures taken recently and the photographer who is his friend, asked if he was lightening his hair.

I know, I know, I am evil. (said as I recline and sip my delicious carbonated nectar)

Just Scribbling on a Cave Wall

It was no coincidence when a Priest and young boy wandered through an un-discovered cave, and stumbled upon the oldest evidence of prehistoric “human” life. They found no bones or tools, no weapons or signs of conflict, no evidence of a wild pagan sacrificial worship. They found art. They found pictures of animals drawn on the walls of a cave. When the priest and the boy saw this, there was no doubt in their minds who could have done such a thing. Only human beings are self aware, aware of the beauty around them, and can express it. These ancient men were aware enough of this beauty to express it on the walls of their cave home (or maybe they just stumbled onto it like the priest and boy) for no other purpose than the need or desire of doing it. This is where we fit in all those categories that Wikipedia lists. Category 5. The Cave Painter. I believe that God creates artists. If someone were to ask me today- "Can you show me one simple thing that could distinguish us from the other living bipeds and quadrupeds?" I would go to my sister's fridge and show them a child’s drawing of Mommy, Daddy and Pouncer the wonder-cat. The fact that we can make “art” alone elevates our intelligence (because of our spirit) by a quantum leap from the rest of organized life.

This awareness and expression of beauty in us is an awareness and expression of the work of God, in us and around us. It must be expressed and we as created artists express it differently. We are singers, songwriters, painters, and writers. We are also Masons, Architects, Graphic Designers, Doctors, Engineers, Editors, Organizers, Pastors, Mothers, Fathers, and yes even Politicians, or public servants, as they should be called. All of us have a vision in our minds of something beautiful, and we want to do it. We not only WANT to do it we are DRIVEN passionately to do it. This is how the kingdom was created. Someday when the new Earth is recreated and heaven is ours, this will be all that we do. Even what we consider now as mundane tasks will become something like the pleasure an artist feels with each stroke across a canvas.

I know I have been created in this time as a songwriter. In my songs I express what I experience. At times I have to write about the great marvelous Mystery that is God, Almighty maker of Heaven and Maker of Earth. At times I need to write about the beauty that is my wife or express the beauty that two young lovers can see in each other. Shoot, I might just feel inclined to write a song when I see a greater truth expressed in the comic strip “Peanuts” and decide to write about Lucy from the prospective of her friend Charlie Brown. I could very likely turn around and add a few verses and a bridge to one of my favorite spirituals “Give me Jesus”. I do this because this is the Joy that God has put inside of me. This is freedom. In all of it there is a reflection of him because I am creating something, and he has put a little bit of His creative spirit in me. However, I cannot create as God creates. I do not create from nothing. I simply hope to express in a unique way, to express the world around me that He has made from nothing and express how it is seen through the filter of what is “me.” I always hope this vision will bring Joy to others, and I hope that ultimately others see and know the awe-inspiring God that gives this joy to me.

So that’s just me. Scribbling on a Cave wall. Doing what man has done since man has been man -and for the same reason.

It is a brilliant and marvelous irony that the Great Artist, in whose likeness we are formed, would ultimately express himself in a similar way thousands of years after our Cave artist ancestors except in this cave, would be real animals, real shepherds, a Mother and Father and God himself would use flesh and bone to express himself to the created universe and to mankind in a newborn child.