On Finding it Hard to Wait 11 More Hours

'Tis the best (and maybe only) reason to own a T.V. These writers deserve every penny they're not getting. Today might be very unproductive -- after watching Season 3's finale again last night, I'm back in crackpot theory mode again!

On Remembering Whose We Are

I came across this war journalist's site today. On this particular page is a picture that evidently gained some fame when it was posted on Time magazine's website. It is of an American soldier cradling a dying Iraqi girl who had been unfortunate enough to be too near a car bomb. Judging by the size of her body, lying in the soldier's arms, she is not much older than Annie.

Whatever your position on this, or any, war, a few things seem inarguable, at least from a Christian perspective. First, we live in a world that will not know true peace until Christ Jesus comes again. I simply do not know how any other perspective makes sense in a world where a precious little girl must suffer and die in such a way, for such erroneous worldviews. I am ashamed of myself for, from time to time, still viewing Satan as the man in the tight red suit, mischievously, if cartoonishly, holding the pitchfork, rather than the master Deceiver who has duped millions into buying into and killing for false philosophies -- little girls like this deserve far more than that from those who know better.

Second, we are beyond blessed in this country to have men and women who would not only be willing to travel to the trenches, but who would show such composure and class in the midst of desperation. I cannot think of a better example of what it means to be free than what is depicted in that picture.

Lastly, I am reminded, again, as a father, what it means to have children. I have to look at something like this and, somewhat painfully in light of the blessings it holds, acknowledge that this world is not our home. The Lord does give, and the Lord does take away, and every minute I have with my two little girls is simply a gift. If I can raise them to have the same perspective, then I believe I will have done my job as a daddy.

On things I DON'T miss about the 80s

I experienced a massive wave of 80's nostalgia the other day. As is often the case, it was some song I hadn't heard in some time. (I think it was Toto, by the way, but I'm not sure). Among many aspects of that great decade upon which I reflected, I was reminded of a few things that I don't miss. To be fair, most if not all of these may be very specific to my experience (e.g. Nos. 3 and 4 being due to the fact that I was a rather rotund child of the 80's). There are only five I can think of, because when all is said and done, growing up in the 80's was Awesome! However, at least for me, these are some nostalgia killers:

5. Christian Skating Parties

Did anyone else attend these things? It was once every few months, and the local skating rink (Roller skating, mind you) would be closed to the general public, allowing church groups and Christian schools have the place for the night. The normal musical fare was replaced for the evening with popular Christian music. Now, I've grown to appreciate far more Christian music than I did when I was 10, and being involved in youth ministry, I can understand the need for and value of such an event. Be that as it may, I submit there were few greater blows to a young boy's ego than having no skating ability whatsoever (or balance in general) and being forced to do it to the likes of Christian recording artists Petra or Amy Grant. This was especially true in light of the fact that I could have bruised my entire body to much cooler artists like Billy Ocean and Mr. Mister (Take . . .these broken wiiiings!).

4. Tight, Polyester-ish Basketball Uniforms

These gems of misguided form and fashion, made out of a sand paper-like fabric, were definitely not made (or sized?) with the larger kids in mind. I might not have scored, but I had some major chafing to prove I had seen some playing time.

3. Coca-Cola Shirts

Actually Shirt, singular. I waited a while to get one of these trendy pieces of Americana, and I can remember when I finally got mine and put it on, I looked and felt like a walking advertisement for what happens when you drink too much Coca-Cola (Again, the huge horizontal stripe/wave not designed with any kind of deference to your larger kids. And again, there was some chafing).

2. Those "After School Special"-type shows which would run after Saturday Morning Cartoons

If one of the best parts of being a kid in the 80's was watching Saturday Morning cartoons, then those ultra-serious shows aimed at teens and pre-teens, which would sometimes run after the block of regular cartoons, was one of the worst. Nothing would bring you crashing back from the wondrous world of little blue creatures, transforming robots, brave, evil-fighting G.I's and adverts for sugared breakfast cereals than a voice-over saying, "Stay tuned for the conclusion of Anger Lives Here, where we'll find out why Johnny's dad had to go away." I'm sure there was something to be learned from these ominous morality-plays, but the timing was such a pain.

1. The Iran-Contra Scandal

Who can forget the fateful day in March of 1987 when Ronald Reagan went on national television . . . Oh, wait. I meant to file that one under "Things I should have cared about, but missed because I was too busy drinking coca-cola at the skating rink and rubbing salve on my chafed skin."

True Number 1: The Rubik's Cube

I know this "game" has made its way onto virtually every "Best things about the 80's list" there is. It has become one of those icons that represents an entire decade -- nay, an entire culture. Throughout its decorated history, it has won world-wide acclaim and accolades, including several toy and game of the year awards. (I actually know very little of its history, but its Wikipedia Entry is very informative). The problem I have with this invention is really very simple: it was marketed as a toy, with its bright colors and simple design, yet one had to be -- oh what's the word, oh yeah: GENIUS -- to solve it! Everyone I knew had one, and no one I knew had solved it. We all simply had one. Every once in a while, someone would pick it up, turn it a few times, get, say, 4 of the 9 colors to match, become cautiously encouraged that today might be the day, quickly mess it up again, and put it back down. It was a crusher of self-esteem. How were we, or at least us average kids, supposed to look optimistically toward a bright new future, when we were faced with the knowledge that an item selling like hotcakes at the local Toys R' Us was something we'd never be able to, as long as we lived, wrap our minds around? I actually resorted to taking off and re-arranging the stickers to solve it -- I distinctly remember that moment, when this menacing glorified box brought out the worst in me. Even to this day, there is a little sadness in the thought that, no matter what I do in life, I will never, whether through lack of intellect or patience, be able to get 9 stinking colors to match up on a stupid plastic cube!

(Having said all of that, I'd still love to hear from anyone who has solved it. I won't be mad at you!)

On Truly Worthy Blogging

Lest you cannot tell, this BLOG, with the exception of when I talk about my family or faith, is really just for putting down some nonsense when I have some time to kill. If you want to read some worthwhile blogging, try Abby's BLOG (Which most of you already do -- isn't she a great mother?!), Patrick's BLOG on his wife's battle with cancer or Natalie's BLOG on her journey to become a doctor. From these BLOGs, you can find some other great sites. (As great as these sites are, I'm a bit ashamed of my Links section -- I need to broaden my Blogger horizons, into the greater Blogosphere, and find new sites and friends to recommend).

On Discovering New Music, Part 2

We saw this movie recently on a couple of strong recommendations. The movie is unlike anything I've seen before -- kind of musical, kind of faux-documentary. I recommend the movie for something different, and recommend most songs on the album. (There is some unnecessary language in beginning of the movie, so perhaps I should recommend neither based on that alone, but most of the music is really good.)

On Discovering New Music

Last night I had to go into work for a couple of hours, and I took Abby's iPod because she was using mine. I thought it would be a good opportunity to see some of what she's listening to. She usually has and artist or two I haven't heard and really come to like.

I put it on shuffle and every once in a while a song would come on that I hadn't heard before. More than once, I found myself thinking, "Hey, this is pretty good. Different, but sounds like something I might like." Just as the thought occured, the lyrics would begin. "The Itsy, Bitsy Spider, walked up the water spout . . ." or my favorite of the evening, "Momma's little baby likes, shortnin', shortnin, Momma's little baby loves shortnin' bread." Tells you a lot about why I need help discovering new music.

You gotta love a mom who keeps music for the entire family on her iPod!

On Putting Down the Camera

In our family, one nightly tradition has been to watch at least part of America's Funniest Home Videos before Annie's bedtime. For some reason I cannot now recall, it was one of those shows we would have on in the background most evenings while getting Annie ready for bed, and she began watching, and would crack up, especially at the Kids and Pets (she still thinks the name of the show is Funniest Kids). We do find ourselves more and more having to quickly change the channel when something scary comes on, and lately it has occurred to me that maybe the level of physical violence portrayed, while mostly whimsical, is a bit extreme and desensitizing. Come to think of it, we are crazy for letting her watch! (Note to Abby: let's talk about this.)

Regardless, were you to be present in our house during these nightly airings, you would most likely hear the following phrases being hurled at the T.V., usually by me:

1. "I wouldn't do that . . . Told 'ya!"

2. "How does one recover from such a thing?"

3. "Put down the camera and help your child!!"

It is the cause of #3 which, as a father, baffles me. The specific situations are varied, but usually the scene is something like the following:

A small child is walking, sweetly and serenely tottering along, in some backyard or similar green open space. He is pointing to something, a flower or a ladybug, and he is babbling and smiling and doing all of the wonderfully sweet things toddlers do when exploring a new and exciting world.

Distracted by the wonder of his discoveries, he has no way of knowing that his brother, driving some motorized monster truck or Humvee or Tank, is about to enter the frame, out of control and on a collision course with his sibling. And, as predicted a mere second or two earlier, the collision occurs, the toddler is thrown to the ground, and the big bro, now truly unable to control himself, continues to keep his foot pressed on the plastic peddle. Consequently, the toddler, now to some degree trapped under this motorized menace, must endure the indignity, not to mention the physical discomfort, of a Fisher Price tire grinding him further into a helpless heap in the grass.

Perhaps it's unfair to expect the adult operating the camera to react in time to stop the calamity. But, the reaction of the camera-person after the fact, more often than not, can be summarized by two implied thoughts:

1. "That is Fu--nny, so I'm going to laugh really hard!"

2. "Let's keep this puppy rolling, see where it leads -- this is
good stuff!"

Having never faced such a situation, I guess it's unfair of me to judge what I might do. In my mind, I envision myself acquiring some superhuman speed, so that the camera would remain, abandoned and floating in mid-air, Looney Tunes style, continuing to film as I stop one of my children from crushing the other. Ultimately, I guess I just don't have what it takes to win money on a video variety show.

On Collaborative Storytelling

A couple of years ago, my niece Savannah had the idea, one which some might call brilliant or inspired or visionary (none to my knowledge have labeled it as such, but they might have), to write a story together online. At first, the idea was that we would each write one word before passing off to the other person. This initial iteration of the idea, while giving each author ample opportunity to reflect on the direction of the story, quickly showed itself to be inefficient at best, as it would have taken weeks just to build the introductory sentence. It was then decided that perhaps the best approach was to allow each author one entire sentence (or in my case, a series of run on or complex sentences which clearly stretched the rules of the effort, as well as irked my cohort, much like this unnecessarily long and explanatory sentence must be irking you, oh patient reader; as I now reflect on this sentence, my suggestion is that you should go back to the beginning of the sentence, i.e. to that beginning "It was then decided . . . " and start this sentence anew, leaving out all that is parenthetical, meaning all verbage surrounded by parentheses -- otherwise, the meaning might be lost, or at least severely wounded, which in hindsight is a poor personification in light of the fact that being "lost" is not necessarily worse than being "wounded," unless of course "lost" implies "presumed dead," in which case "wounded" is the better of the two, and in which case the chosen personification works as written) to further the plot of the story.

You can see the potential issues that I, at least, encountered when it came to sticking to single sentences. Savannah was a trooper, however, and stuck with it for longer than she perhaps should have. If interested, you can read the beginning of the effort here. Hopefully SP can be draw out of her early retirement so that the saga of the students at AfSwAT can continue. . .