Certainty

At my job we have a saying, "People are more important than programs." But programming is a lot easier.

Yesterday I arrived just in time to help the coroner carry out the body of my friend's dad. It was all very matter-of-fact. "Hey buddy can you help me with this?" It didn't dawn on me till half way down the icy steps what was inside of that bag on the stretcher. I would have come because of friendship, but I was there as a pastor. The difference is that the friend sits with the family, but the pastor speaks words of comfort and hugs EVERYONE knowing what to say. At least I think that is the case because that seems to be what the eyes of everyone in the kitchen were yearning for as they stared at me.

Questions seem to bubble to the surface as soon as you are semi-alone with the family members. "I just feel angry. Is that wrong?" "Are you certain where my Dad is now?" In that moment you want to be able to just say anything to make them feel better. But what about truth? So you try to do both and it just comes out awkward. So you just listen as they corner you one at a time while everyone else hustles around trying to find something to do. Something to fix. Something that will make it seem like they are making this better.

That is the most frustrating thing about death. You can't fix anything. You can't fix the deceased. You can't EXPLAIN to the family that what they are feeling will get better. I can contribute though. I wrote the sermon for funeral last night. Words that seems trite compared to what is going on in their hearts. The hope of Christ is the only thing that shields us from death, but experiencing that love is different than saying that to a room full of people that may or may not even have the slightest idea what it is.

I just want to be there for my friend.

Juvenile

Juvenile. One of those things that are a secret, but not really a secret is that grown-ups are just kids with money and drivers licences. It is one of the things that everyone really knows, but it says in the background and is never acknowledged. But every once in awhile you let that little, immature child peek out. Other times you let it run wild soaring on wings like eagles.

Thursday I took off a day of work because at midnight (Wednesday night/Thursday morning) a video game was being released to the public. At first my friends and I would say, "I'm not going to the midnight release because I have a life... I'm not that much of a nerd... I'm a grown-up." But that didn't last very long, because we realized how few times we have a chance to really let our inner nerdy child run wild. So we saw the opportunity and we seized it. It was not beneficial to our health, our career, or the general well-being of all mankind. But it was fun.

Then after the deed was done, we gathered ourselves up, showered the night and day from our bodies and resolved ourselves to joining the rest of civilized society. We parted ways with the understanding that we would never speak of these things until the next gathering. As we grow older, I would encourage you not to skip these weekend flings with your closest childhood friend... your own inner child.

Politics

"If it ain't broke don't fix it" is the campaign slogan of the lazy and mediocre.

Extortion

As I watched the clerk across the counter pick up the scanner and swipe it across my choices in a motion he had obviously done enough that it had become a reflex, I found my mind drifting into wondering what the life of a thirty year old video clerk would be like. I didn't really get past the stack of pizza boxes in my mother's basement when I was yanked from my fantasy by my total flashing on the screen. Five dollars to rent a movie! Really! The clerk, not knowing if I was paying attention or maybe he was just used to the shocked expression, repeated my total. Immediately I went rigid with self-control because my first inclination was to reach over the counter a slap him. I could see it clearly in my head...

"It's 9.98."

SMACK

"I'm sorry, what was the total again?"

I have since decided that I could not, in good conscious, be a thirty year old video clerk.

Tenuous

Recently, I have been trying as hard as I can to become informed about what is going on in the USA and abroad. It is an election year which means I have to catch up on four years of politics so I can not pay attention for an other four in hopes that the man elected will not share my distractions. But recently, there is a sense of urgency in my learning. I have discovered the sad state of affairs that our country is in and have devised a plan of action. Which is why I have decided to run for President. I think that is a good starting place, but I actually don't think that is enough power to set the world right. Maybe I will work for MTV... that might have more influence.

What is really funny is all the things lately that people think will effect my relationship with them. The conversation started with my wife telling me "Don't worry!" she would not ask me who I was voting for. I replied "McCain" before she finished her sentence. I don't believe a married couple should agree on everything, but they shouldn't hide anything. She is "undecided" but I couldn't care less who she voted for. Okay that is not true, but it wouldn't come between our marriage. Everyone gets an opinion and lately voting is picking the lesser of two (not evils) less than inspiring leaders. I'm curious how this goes down in other households.

Soft

I have never considered myself a people pleaser or a peace keeper. In high school my personal manifesto was "Screw you, I'm doing what I want to do." In college, I had a reputation as being "kind of an @$$ until you got to know me better." I've never really cared a tremendous amount about fitting in. So, why is it that I so desperately yearn for my niece to like me!?!

My niece is the most beautiful little girl in the whole world right now. She is smart and cute and really really tiny for her age. But she is so darn fickle, and it drives me up the wall. One day she will shout "uncla ewck" which is suppose to be "uncle Luc" and point and me wanting to play. We will sing songs and make faces at each other. This past weekend we went to the pumpkin farm and walked around together touching every pumpkin and saying the word. I find such fulfillment in the short time I spend with her.

Then there are days where she is scared of me and wants nothing to do with me. No kisses, no hugs, and no fun with Uncle Luc. It makes me so frustrated. Not only her bi-polar love, but the fact that I care so much about my brother's daughter.

Rite

Some of you are familiar with the tragic saga that is my brother. For those of you who are not... it is pretty tragic. The relationship between us can be summarized as thus: He does whatever is convenient for him in that moment, I try to do what is best. To an outsider this may look to be abusive. For us, it is tradition. It is not that he intends to hurt me, he just doesn't even consider the consequences to myself or any other person as long as it benefit's him. This seems like a cruel fate to have your own blood be poison, but it really has had a strange side effect.

I can't count how many times in one day I hear people say, "It shouldn't work like that" or "They shouldn't be like that." And I just tilt my head slightly, look them dead in the eye and say, "Why wouldn't it be like that?"

I think most people through tradition or perception can formulate an idea of how things "should be" in this world. Some even have a heightened sense of right and wrong. These people have a lot of rage. Because the world doesn't really work the way it should. But at some point, don't we incorporate that into our world view?

For example: Some one who is self-absorbed won't shut up about their new outfit long enough to ask you why you are in a bad mood. This makes you even more angry. You say, "I can't believe he/she didn't notice!" And I would say to you, "That person is self-absorbed, why would you expect them not to be self-absorbed today?"

So the side effect is that when I see situations and relationships I look at them from start to finish and see people for what they are. When you see someone for who they are, compassion sometimes replaces anger. Why wouldn't that person try to take advantage when they have been scammed their whole life? Of coarse she is fake, she has no friends and doesn't know how to be a friend. He is a jerk, he was yesterday and unless something changes, he will be one tomorrow... so why would that surprise or anger you?

The important thing is what we do in reaction. Because lets be honest most people won't change because someone gets angry with them. You can't make them see how much they hurt you. Even if the world comes crashing down around them they will never say, "Wow, (your name) was right!" There will never be any satisfaction through other people. So... can I do what is right, not for any other reason or person accept me? Can I do what is right even if it means I get trampled? If I comment back, if I get revenge, if I cut that person out of my life... what or who does that make me?

Predestined

I'm somewhere in between "it drives me crazy" and "actually it is kind of helpful."

Most guys that I know have a duck tale. I don't mean that fabulous show with the catchy theme song that I may or may not know all the words to... and you do too. And I don't mean an actually tale either. On our hairlines, there is this place where stupid meets annoying. It's formation is a mystery. On the even line or nice curve that our barbers and beauticians sculpt our hair into there is the piece that juts out ever so slightly and forms a reverse tear drop that I think looks like the tale of a duck. Some men are even blessed enough to have "the pitch fork" where the duck tale is flanked on both sides by two thick stripes of neck hair that grow down toward the shoulder blades.

(Lets pause for the ladies to throw up a little in their mouths)

So my question is... are we fighting nature here guys? Are we all really suppose to be jocking the rat tail? Socially the rat-tail is usually a badge that says, "Yes... I live in a trailer... it's a double-wide." But what if they are just not fighting it anymore? What if this is our destiny?

Curency

For all of the toys that I own and the vast supply of high-tech equipment I operate (and love) on a daily basis, sometimes I feel like I was born in the wrong century.

In this season, the harvest season, the feeling is more prevalent. Men are working their land, bringing in the crops to sell for a fair price. Store some, use some for feed, and sell the rest to a country that can't decide if they want to eat it, smoke it, or use it for gas. Today, it is magnified I think by the state the economy is in. Farming seems like a simpler existence. It is timeless. Man toils with the earth to provide. I love reading books about a land in the time of kings and queens. Life was hard, but people worked the land and everyone contributed to the life of the village. If they were strong and diligent they celebrated living one more year.

Now it seems that the whole infrastructure and economy of, not only our country, but the world is being decided by imaginary money (credit) wielded by people who would have probably died in week one on the Oregon Trail. From what I can discern of this mess, which is not much, is that men in suits who deal in imaginary money made some poor calls. This means the government has to take our real money, money we earned, and give it to the men in suits and hope they decide to give loans again... to who? Us. The people who just gave our taxes to them. All in hopes that men will continue to trade pieces of businesses that none of them have ever worked at. I saw today that the market was doing good, until someone overheard the president of some financial institution say he was "thinking" about doing something, and the stocks plunged. Now people are going to get laid off because some guy was just "thinking" about making a decision.

To me, the solution to this is simple. We have to many worthless people making million dollar salaries screwing up our economy with their pretend money. If this was a simpler time, these people would actually have to contribute to society (make something of use), serve in an army, or starve in the winter. Some of the down falls of an increase in medical advances and the "sophistication" of our country is that the weak and crooked ones aren't being weeded out of the herd.

P.S. I know the whole country is going down the tubes, but I just bought gas for $3.20.

Now that is sexy.

Preoccupation

If one were to go into a gas station to pay for their purchases and recognize that the pregnant attendent is an old aquantence, what do you say? "What have you been up to?" just doesn't seem appropriate.

Paradigm

During our Labor Day cookout, I thought I had a stroke of genius. But as it turns out, my brilliance will not be lauded through song for a thousand years.

Our neighbors have a litter of five kittens. So with children in attendance I decided it would be a great idea to introduce small mammals into the mix. You know, shake things up. Little did I know that placing the paws of the smallest, cutest, orange ball of fur on my rug broke the seventh seal and signaled the beginning of Armageddon.

The beginning of the end started with a siren like wail emanating from Maggie. She was so excited to see the kitten that she thought that the best thing she could do to express herself was run at break-neck speeds directly at it, point a tiny chubby little finger in its face, and scream "KITTY" over and over as loud and at as high a frequency as she could reach. Elisha's reaction (as typical of little boys) was to quietly approach and touch. And by touch I mean go for the throat.

So the violent scramble of children, was met with an equally quick rush of adults to restrain the children before I had to walk next door and politely explain "Um... we broke your kitten." Once the children realized they would not get to beat the kitten senseless to express their heart-felt love and excitement, the floods came and there was weeping and gnashing of teeth. In order to put out the fire, I decided gasoline was the best solution. So I got another kitten so each child could sit with their own kitten closely supervised. This prison visitation style of kitten love, was not well received. Maggie was inconsolable and refused to use an inside-voice while Elisha had to be restrained while he shouted at his mother "Don't taze me bro!"

The whole situation ended with Maggie going home, Elisha being distracted by something shiny, and the adults falling in love with the gray kitten while Nick traumatized the orange one by putting it inside his child's hollow bat. Once it realized the bat cave was a refuge, it stayed in the bat and took a nap, or fell into a stress related coma... I'm not sure.

I just marveled that at one point in my own early life, in response to the question "What should I do?" my decion making paradigm probably encluded such options as: cry, run at it and scream, pick it up by the neck, make as much noise as possible, crap in my pants, put it in my mouth, and sit on it. If only I still responded in the same way.

Click here to see what happened to Nick.

Status

I find it refreshing when people give an honest status update. Whether through Facebook, or just when asked... "How are you?", honest and strait-forward answers are by far the most interesting.

This morning I exchanged these messages (via text) with a friend...

"How R U?"

"Hungry. You?"

"Sexy."

Also, to spice things up, you can include activities like video games, books, and movies in your status update, but be vague as to how these deeds were accomplished.

"What did you do today?"

"I went into work this morning, but things didn't pick up till this afternoon."

"Yeah? What did you do in the afternoon?"

"I started by laying siege to this castle, but that was taking too long, so I watched the police bust up a drug running cartel, and shot my friend Chris in the head since he was screwing around and not helping fight the Germans.... what an idiot."

And if you are wondering if I talk to my fiance' like this... I do.

Crash

Apparently the missing half of the slogan "Get You There" reads, "Get you (and only you) there, but you'll be hungry." Delta Airlines is now charging it's passengers for tickets, bags, and snacks... that's right... snacks. As if I didn't need one more reason not to fly Delta. So quite literally their only concern is to get your person to the destination with no regard for luggage or caring for you in the air.

When your organization is in trouble and the chips are down... every decision makes or breaks your future. And in my opinion only the bold survive.

Maybe it is lack of faith. Maybe it is fear. Maybe it is ulcers. But it is the same every time. A organization reaches an impasse. It has grown in size, it has to shift direction, it has to reevaluate, or it is in financial trouble. So the decision makers come to THE meeting to find THE answer. Whether or not the people in the room know it, they are there to only make one decision. They think they are there to talk about business models, vision, and damage control. But all of these are just HOW you are going to proceed. The question that needs answering is FORWARD or BACKWARD and there is no third direction. "Maintain" "Riding it out" are illusions. FORWARD or BACKWARD?

In this meeting, someone will make a bold suggestion. We should go after a new market. We should proceed. We should spend money to make money. We should be more active in the community. Lets bring in new blood. Of course, it is risky, but better to go out with a fight then die a slow death. This will be met with a few hesitant nods and some mixed mummers. The responsibility and sacrifice lies with the leadership of the organization... and that makes everyone uncomfortable.

Then the spineless will get their excuse to back down from the wormy guy in the corner... who, of course, was never really in favor of the things that has brought the organization to this point. You know, the guy who knew it all along. And he delivers his miracle. You know, we don't have to be responsible for the failure. We don't have to take risks that might put us in a tough spot. We can just pass the cost onto the customers. We don't need to grow, we need to start building the walls that hold out the problems and keep us safe (without considering the problems are inside the walls or even in the room). Lets charge for bags and snacks. If we make everyone else shoulder the cost, we don't have to sacrifice a thing. And even if the business, the church, or the organization fails we can milk it for at least a while longer.

FORWARD or BACKWARDS? Delta will crash. No one wants to pay $5 for a bag of chez-its. I'll fly Southwest who not only is not charging extra for bags and snacks, but is making it more comfortable to fly. And Southwest will grow and Delta will not. How do small-minded and tight-fisted men who lack vision get into positions of leadership?

Has anyone else been to this same meeting?

Service

Unbelievable.

I like to think that I have some empathy for people in the service industry. I apologetically hassled homes as a telemarketer for a short spell, cleaned up after students while washing dishes, and helped people eat fresh as a Sandwich Artist at Subway. I also was a waiter (server) at Cracker Barrel for one of the stranger portions of my life. I say strange because everyone working at the country fresh restaurant was either a Bible college student, an ex-stripper, a current stripper, or a combination of these. But never in all my years have I ever ignored a customer to the point that they would leave.

Unbelievable.

After a hard day of moving and playing video games, Tyler and I found ourselves craving a Frisco Melt and chili from Stake and Shake. Those of you that know the craving can sympathize. So we went to the local S & S, were greeted, were seated... and there we sat. We sat patiently for fifteen minutes. No one so much as looked in our direction. I guess the three servers, two cooks, and one manager were WAY too busy waiting on the other three parties that were there. The place was not busy. We were baffled. It was even more ridiculous that earlier we had left a restaurant at lunch... so we did it again. We just left and drove down the road to the other Steak and Shake by the mall.

Unbelievable.

Of course, this wouldn't be blog worthy if it didn't reach a level of ridiculous that is recognizable from space. And it did. We drove to the other Steak and Shake, were greeted, were seated... and there we sat. We sat for about five minutes... an other couple came in, were seated and their order was taken. We still sat there. Just as I was rising to go to my car to get the necessary materials to burn this place to the ground... they sent the trainee to wait on us. A crisis averted. I mean if one business's service sucks, you just go down the road, but what if all service sucks?

Foundation

The saying goes, "... it's like pizza. Even when it is bad it is still good." Pizza is just one of those things that is really hard to mess up. That doesn't mean that all pizza is made equal. Absolutely not. Some stand above the rest, each being appreciated for its superiority in its own subtle differences. For instance, I don't really enjoy Pizza Hut, however, their stuffed-crust is genius and the taco pizza is one of my favorite pies. Monicals thick crust?!? Is there such a thing?!? And if you want Chicago's deep dish you need to go to Gino's East or go home.

It seems you can put just about anything on pizza and it is tolerable. Toppings don't really make or break the pizza. It is the basics that count. Crust, spices, cheese and sauce. Make a pie with a weird topping and you can shrug it off as not great but still pizza. But, I have never in my life been more shocked than when I was duped into going to Emo's pizza. They make their pizza with provel cheese "St. Louis Style." It sucks. And anyone that says different is a dirty communist. You don't want to be a communist do you?

I just had a slice from a mom and pop pizza place someone offered me, and the sauce tastes like it was made in someone's arm pit... or Decatur. And it is always shocking to find pizza that is actually "bad" not just mediocre. But every time it happens, its not the toppings. It is the fundamentals that get lost in the quest for "interesting" dishes. So for all you up and coming pizza places... make sure you can walk before you run. And don't be a communist.

Reposition

Lord knows that by this time I should be an expert at moving. I've called hotel rooms "home" and lived by the graciousness of spare bedrooms more times then I wish to recall. My baggage is travel worn and I'm sure that post offices and DMVs all over the mid-west rue the day my name appeared on their forms. But the truth is, moving is not systematic. In fact, the art of relocation is an awkward dance that will stretch your endurance as much as it stretches your relationships.

Nothing just fits. The doors and corners aren't wide enough, and all the stuff in my life doesn't fit into this new space like it did in the old. But this is the way of change. You decide to move to the next space: a new house, a new job, a new relationship, a new marriage. Nothing just fits. It is push and pull. Some things stay. Others, even though they still work, just don't fit anymore... and they have to be stored away until their day rises again, or they simply have to go. Forcing doesn't work. I mean sometimes you have to use something until you can replace it, but you can't kid yourself... it doesn't look good with the new surroundings. And if you are combining two lives into one space... forget about simple.

Simple is overrated. Two people moving into one space is about compromise... not simple. It's no longer about what I want or what they want, but what fits best in this new location. Even though I own just enough plastic tubs to pack my life neatly into boxes, and I do, it is not just me anymore. New spaces come with new challenges and new opinions. Even your friends feel the effects. "Can you help me move?" The sounding horn of change is met with silence, resistance, and spite if it happens too often. Nothing is simple.

Some things in my life are becoming staples that will survive the move with me, but leases are temporary and change is a much inevitable as it is not permanent. Every change, every move is slightly awkward, but it is our ability to adapt that will make or break us.

Inovate.

I had a thought that occurred to me today on my way to work that blindsided me. Sometimes there are moments when someone is fiercely outraged about something only to be brought a piece of evidence that makes them reconsider their whole argument. There is that pause (sometimes mid-sentence and it is written all over their face "What if I've been wrong this whole time?"

I was driving to work and decided to stop at my favorite BP to get a drink. As I was pulling in, I glanced at the price of unleaded and was momentarily relieved to see that it had dropped below four dollars per gallon. That warm caress of relief was then roughly thrust aside by my righteous anger at being conditioned through the numbing effects of shock value to accept four dollars a gallon as the standard price of gasoline. It was not four years ago that my anxiety over gas prices found its central median at one dollar per gallon and I was outraged if the price climbed over fifty cents past the bench mark. Further more I was annoyed at our government's inability to deal with this problem. But here is the twist.

"What if it is all on purpose?" And crazier than that "What if things are better this way?" On the United Nations list of major issues there are a few that line up with the top seven things the American government listed as this millennium's issues. Energy consumption was on both lists. Maybe this is too "conspiracy theory" but whether it is intentional or accidental "being green" is only at the forefront of the news these days because Americans finally found a common ground with the hippie environmentalists... our wallets. Of course, no one would come out and say that. That would be political suicide. However, people are paying attention now. Save the whales... eh. Save the Rain Forest... you mean the cafe'? Why wouldn't I use oil indiscriminately... it is cheep. Why would we change the combustion engine?

Taking care of our planet is not a priority for most. Doing the right thing because it is the right thing to do is not our natural inclination. We need insensitive. We need to know what is in it for us. I don't like paying four dollars per gallon for gas, but let's face it... when the price doubled, Americans didn't even flinch. When just kept consuming. Triple, still going. If this is what it takes to make us wake up and find new energy sources and take care of the planet then I will endure.

It was just a lot to process when all I wanted was a beverage.

Nerfed.

As one grows older, stories or yesteryear seem to just come streaming from your lips before you can dam them up and contain them under the heading "No One Cares But You Grandpa." However sometimes one has to relieve the tension and allow some current lest the levy break.

There used to be one and only one measure of success when it came to building, owning, and operating a swimming pool. The diving board. Is there a diving board? How is the spring on the board? How high is it off the water? After all, the fun of swimming is not actually being in the water, but getting in and out of the water in the most creative ways that we can find. This mindset is the explanation for the line of shivering, wet boys holding there elbows while standing in a line outside of the pool. They and their chattering teeth are waiting their turn to show everyone else how spectacular their entrance into the cool blue can be. And so, they go in and out and back again because they push their art form to be bigger, higher, and better executed.

Disappeared. Where are the heroes of the high dive? Maybe it was one too many faulty flips ending in painful belly flops. Perhaps the duties of life guarding is too stressful, the whistles being abused by power hungry teens headed for careers in the post office. Who knows why, but we all saw it coming. First the high dives were replaced with small slides. Then the low boards were abducted leaving only bolt holes in the concrete... a monument to the fun that once was. Are they gone completely? In our quest to turn the globe into a soft foam ball so Sally doesn't scrape her knee, are we wiping out fun faster than we can down the rainforest? The boards are extinct and the deep ends are endangered, but shhhhh... it will be okay because you can play Wii diving in the safety of your home. So label all the risks "X-treme", stay in the shallow end, and enjoy your padded room. Me and my skinned knee will be outside playing on the concrete at dangerous heights and break neck speeds.

@ PETA

Get a life.



In the news today, PETA is going after the Wimbleton Tournament because they hired marksman to shoot pidgeons. The Tournament actually has pet hawks that scare away most of the pidgeons, but a few slipped through and were landing on the tennis courts and food courts. So, they killed them. They killed the pidgeons, the birds nicknamed "rats with wings." And poor little PETA thinks that is cruel. So I would like to say some things to PETA on behalf of the people of America that agree with me.



1. Why are you even watching tennis?



2. Pidgeons are one of the most disgusting, disease carrying animals and they were in the food court. It is a health issue, and who cares if we kill three... there are billions of them.



3. They are not torturing the birds... they just shoot them. It is more humane than the electric chair... that we strap humans to.



4. No body likes you. Anyone who is not a card-carrying member of PETA thinks you are rediculous. Why? Of all the issues in the world today, the PEOPLE dying all over the world... you are concerned with pidgeons.



5. Get a life. That is all.

Hybrids....and why I'm being screwed by the ones I trusted.

Over the coarse of the four years I have owned my Toyota Matrix, I have fallen in love with it. It is more than just the normal maintenance, love/hate relationship every man inherently has with his vehicle. There is just something there between a man and his car that is different from the connection a woman has with her car. He doesn't even have to be a "car guy" to have this tangled web of loathing and love for the vehicle he has been through so much with. But on the other hand, my relationship with The Matrix borders on unhealthy.

In fact, I refer to it as "The Matrix" and probably don't go one week with out vocalizing to someone (usually Charissa) about being genuinely impressed by it. The head room, the versatility, the cargo room, the sleek design, and the wall outlet on my dashboard... these are just a few of my favorite things.

But Alas, I'm not what you would consider a "good driver" and The Matrix has taken some scrapes here and there. So I took it to Toyota, the makers who introduced the two of us and they stroked The Matrix lovingly and said, "We can fix her... make her whole again. And we can do it for around $700." I agreed and then left in a rental Prius Hybrid.

I really don't like this car. Hybrid or not, its like driving a golf cart. It is so unsafe. The blind spots are terrible and the climate control is overbearing, but I can't take my eyes off the touch screen on the dash. It shows me the current MPG I'm getting at all times. I'm not even watching the roads or the speed limits, just the screen. It's like a video game. The better MPG, the higher the score. And when I only put 5 gallons of gas in it... that was 3/4 of a tank. Glory sweet glory.

The Matrix is still not fixed... and Toyota is sicking it to me with a bill that is almost double what they started with. I started off mad. But now I feel like a parent with a child held for ransom. "I'll pay anything you want, just bring The Matrix home... just bring it home." God, I'm sick.

Combo points

"I'm afraid if I tell you what it is... you won't even try it." - Dr. Hannibal Lector

As I sojourn on this earth, I find my self eating food that appears strange, maybe even repulsive, yet turns out to be pleasantly surprising. There are a number of strange dishes I have tried, but I'm fascinated most by the dishes resulting in the combination of two unlikely heroes. The odd couple de jour so to speak.

Today I ate my Wendy's fries (which are not particularly great) with a chocolate frostie (which is simple chocolate soft-serve). Apart, they are too salty or too ho hum. But together they create an explosion of taste on your palette. The same is true of McDonald's french fries with McDonald's sweet and sour sauce, or Monical's pizza with Monical's french dressing! It's the combinations that make these foods truly great.

What I'm trying to say is that I'm really hungry... someone get me some Monical's pizza!

Monogamy... the duct tape for the world.

I love duct tape. It literally fixes everything but duct work.

When people ask me why I am a Christian, my immediate response is "Well, it would be awkward for me to go into work if I wasn't." (I am a minister). But being a smart-elic aside, I tend to think that the Bible contains in it all the fundamentals to having a great life and a wonderful society. I mean, call me crazy, but I believe that practices that are deemed as "moral" or "biblical" in the Judeo-Christian sense of the word are actually just good business as far as world affairs go. Let's take for instance Monogamy...

Monogamy: "Traditionally" this is the practice of only taking one sexual partner.

Ideally, a boy and girl meet, they get married and only have sex with that person until one of them dies. At that point the surviving person may take another sexual partner until they die. Etc. Etc. Etc.

On the downside, we may have to exercise some self-control.

On the plus side, if this is practiced globally, it would eliminate ALL sexually transmitted diseases. You could wipe out AIDS, herpes, pretty much everything but pubic lice. You have to shower to do that. You would reduce the number of unwed mothers to only those widowed. No more rape, no more divorces screwing up kids, no more affairs tearing apart marriages, no more prostitution.

It is crazy to think about what would happen if everyone could just agree to do this one thing. But rather than keep it in our pants we would rather donate money to AIDS relief and take pills so it doesn't burn when we pee. Oh, well.

Excerpts from 101 Ways to Annoy Your Wife

As our relationship progresses, I find that I need to start writing down some things to remember. Charissa and I are not even married yet, but I'm fairly certain I could fill a book with the things I can do to push her buttons.

Sample Chapters will include:
Pet Names I shouldn't call her - Charizard, Clarissa, Charissa Ho-land
Places Not To Touch - Armpits, elbows, ears
Single Words That Make Her Skin Crawl - Mesquito, Bacon, Moist
Topics To Avoid - Warcraft, Video Games, Video Games, Video Games

I've honned my craft to a fine art.

Just wondering...

Does anyone know why our government doesn't actually make money?

I'm only 27, so I haven't been following politics closely till a few years ago so I'd just like to know if there is some law against it or something.

For example the state of Illinois has the lottery. The state of Illinois has a business that generates money for the State. Obviously the system is full of corruption, but I didn't know if the government can or does do that on a federal or national level to make money, or if their ONLY source of income is taxation.

The reason I ask, is that I hear a lot about how candidates and congressmen would use the money we have, but not anything about making new money somewhere. Is that too Communist? Government businesses?

Don't Give Up The Dream

I haven't eaten for 36 hours.

All I want is a piece of toast. After being deathly ill and I'm pretty sure I threw up pieces of my own spine... I can have solid foods. All I want is just one little piece of toast. I have the bread. It is in my hand. Oh sweet Lord, it is even cinnamon raisin toast.

I can't find the toaster. In my house it just sits on the counter. My parents either hide their toaster somewhere in their bathroom, or I have moved into some insane world where they buy a kind of bread that is specifically made to be toasted, but don't have a toaster.

I haven't eaten for 37 hours.

This is nuts. I just saw my mom make toast the other day. Where is the toaster?!? Where do they keep it?!? I am so frantic, I checked the crisper drawer in the fridge and their bedroom. Who do I have to strap to a chair and question?!? Do they take it with them to work? Is it in the shop? Everything is turned around. For a year and a half I have gotten used to where I put things and now I can't find the toaster. What kind of sick joke is this?

...

My cereal was breathtaking, after I found the milk.

In Need Of Being Needy

In my line of work, you are more likely to help someone than to get helped by someone. Lately, I've had a slew of opportunities to clean up after other people's messes. Procrastinators, poor planners, and people that rely on the kindness of the church because they are such jerks they don't have any friends.

The worst part is that if you tell someone that you are not going to clean up their mess, it is not going to be an epiphany for them. They didn't get this far in life by being introspective. You are just going to end up being the bad guy. And usually when I reach my breaking point I hear this annoying voice in my head saying, "Do you love me... then feed my lambs."

Last night I just went to bed wondering when someone was going to do something for me with no strings attached.

This morning I woke up and remembered the Cubs tickets I was given and I walked out of my room to find that all my laundry was done by my dad and my mom made be breakfast...

Wedding Reception Playlist Update

Push It by Salt-N-Pepa
Love Shack by The B52's
Hey Yeah by Outcast
Rappers Delight by The Sugar Hill Gang
Don't Stop Til You get Enough by Michael Jackson
Funkey Cold Medina by Tone Loc
Whoomp! (There It Is) by Tag Team
Super Freak by Rick James
Respect by Aretha Franklin
No Diggity by Blackstreet
Things That Make You go Hmmmm by C&C Music Factory
Dreamlover by Mariah Carey
Everybody Have Fun Tonight by Wang Chung
Faded by Souldecision
Dance to the Music by Slay and the Family Stone
Baby Got Back by Sir Mix A Lot
Smooth by Santana
Truly Madly Deeply by Savage Garden
Addicted To Love by Robert Palmer
She Bangs by Ricky Martin



More to follow. Oh man. I've been laughing so hard writing this list that my face hurts.

The Prologue

There are two kinds of us.

Some of are all business. When you are telling us a story we are listening, but we are still screaming "What is the point! Get to the point!" When we are here to work, we work. When we sit down to a meal we eat with the speed and efficiency of marines in boot camp so that we can move on to what is next. You know us. It is not enough to get to our destination, we need to "make good time."

Some of us savor. And the Lord spoke saying, "You will know them by their lateness." The world moves a little slower. They stop working to talk to whomever for whatever reason. They are the last ones finished with their meals because they are talking and dessert is a requirement more than an option. And it is not enough to get to our destination, we need to take the most beautiful route.

It used to take me 3 to 4 months to read a book. I would construct detailed images of each character no matter how small their role in the plot is. I would often reread chapters to have a better understanding of the minor sub-plots while looking for holes in the logic of science fiction books. I would take the words on the page, roll them around on my tongue, and I wouldn't dare swallow until I had sucked all the flavour out of each syllable.

Now it takes me 3 to 4 days to demolish a book. The characters have no faces and the language has no taste. My driving force is to find out what happens as fast as I can, because whether or not I can see these fictitious faces, I know that every time I put the book down their conflict hasn't been resolved. I'm more concerned with what happens rather than who it happens to. Unfortunately, these days books don't end. There is no "and they lived happily ever after..." Every author wants to write the sequel so we have to leave the characters unresolved. They want to be the next Bourne Identity or the next Harry Potter. So readers like me just gorge themselves digesting page after page until we finish the book. Then the prologue is just the empty feeling of coming down off a high and wondering where are we going to get our next fix.

So... read any good books lately?

On Customer Service...

So would you pay more for a product if the customer service was better?


Wal-Mart: I went to the mecca of Midwestern society to pick up a bike since Charissa and I are beginning to explore this "playing outside" stuff. After I found one that suited my needs I was faced with a problem. I couldn't get it down. So I asked the nearest "associate" to help me. He didn't work in that area, but would get someone to help. After waiting fifteen minutes, I asked a very chipper young lady to page someone, but she was just getting off work. She paged someone anyway before leaving the store and my life forever. After an other fifteen minutes I decided to track down my next wall to talk to. I found the sporting goods guy at the hunting desk. His response to my asking for help was "Man, am I the only one in the store?!" Sorry to inconvenience you to help me with a purchase in your department. Sheesh.

On the other hand...

Menards: After we pedaled up hill into the wind for an hour, and I remembered why it was that I first bought a car... Charissa and I visited Menards for a bike chain to protect our new investments. We walked in the door, found a worker in the patio furniture department and asked him where the bike chains were. To my shock and awe, he drops what he is doing and walks us over to the bike chains, points out the assortment and the person who works in that department if we had anymore questions. And he isn't just a cool guy. It is store policy that EVERY worker must stop what they are doing and not leave your side until you find what you are looking for or pass you off to someone who knows. Wow.

I find it really sad that we are living in an era or maybe just an area where the people who are there to help you actually being helpful... is shocking. To me that sets you apart as a business. I will always shop at Menards over Lowes or Home Depot because of this policy. This is also why I will never purchase anything from Abercrombie. They instruct their workers to act better than the customer and seem inconvenienced if you disrupt their folding. What a crazy way to do business.

Non-miricles Of Science

So the buzz on the Internet right now is a man named Thomas Beatie. Thomas claims he is pregnant. Not only is he claiming it, but it has been confirmed that he is, in fact, beginning his third trimester. I watched news clips of people calling it a hoax and others claiming they wanted proof. And, of coarse, Oprah brought Thomas and his partner on TV to talk about how hard it is to find maternity clothes for men. Some are calling it a miracle of science. Really?

If you listen or read carefully you will find that this is NOT A MAN. Thomas was born a woman. She had her breast tissue removed, her glands removed, and managed to grow a slightly white trash beard with the help of "man pills." However, she opted not to "adjust" her reproductive organs.

What a medical miracle!!! You mean to tell me that a woman with small breasts and facial hair artificially inseminated herself? It would have been a real miracle if she got pregnant naturally. Seriously people... she has a womb. Pardon me if I don't think that it is a dazzling scientific highlight of the new millennium. I can't believe this wo-man has the "balls" to parade around saying that she is a man. She has none of the male reproductive organs or even poor attempts to mimic them. I think the only thing this goes to show is that you can have all the surgery in the world... it doesn't change who you are.

I tell you what I really want to do is dress up a pregnant girl in a bird costume and plaster pictures all over the Internet of the "pregnant bird." Obviously a medical miracle. I think people might believe it. I kid you not a saw a woman interviewed who said, "I hope more men join this trend and become pregnant." WTF!

Click here to see this freak show.

Tales From The Retreat (Part 1)

Being a man in a land of women is not nearly as provocative as it sounds... but it is quite interesting. I feel like a scientist who goes to live with the gorillas in their natural habitat. At first, I observe from afar. Slowly, carefully, I establish trust through imitating their behavior. Once I have put on a spa robe and made my way to the waterhole, I approach and eventually earn my own pool chair... my own spot in the group. From here I can more closely observe these incredible creatures.

Points of Interest: The biggest losers are honored.

From weight loss to social circumstances, surely the "last shall be first and the least shall be the greatest." The first night at dinner a game was played called "I Never..." Unbeknownst to the planner of this event, "I Never..." is really a drinking game. So when it was announced that this was to be the entertainment for the evening I got a little nervous. When consuming alcohol this species is prone to violent mood swings, increase in verbal activity, and the uncontrollable desire to drunk dial or send unintelligible text messages. While in the company of "the group" I always fear that moment when they might project their feelings toward all men on to me and I will be beaten severely or worse, trapped in a teary conversation with an emotional woman. (personally, I much prefer the beating)

But I stayed for the sake of science and played the game with my table. After all, I had some trump cards to play. The game is played like this: I say, "I have never......" and everyone at your table that HAS done that thing gives you a candy heart. So you gain hearts by finding an activity that everyone HAS done but you HAVE NOT. You of course, lose hearts for doing activities that others have not. I didn't fully grasp the game until the end. I figured I would win because I stated "I have never.... worn a bra... had a period." I collected two hearts from every woman at that table, while their answers were met with mixed responses. However, I did not win. I gave away a lot of hearts because I had driven through Iowa, visited Canada, gone to college, etc.

That's when it hit me. As the winning member of the group lofted her prize above her head and the other women half celebrated, half coveted this woman I was baffled. For surely this woman knew that the reason she won was because she had the least life experiences in the group. The way to win this game and be celebrated by the rest of the group was to never go anywhere, don't try anything new, and know the least amount of people possible. It all came together. Women want to have less body mass, women with back problems call the small breasted ones "lucky", and they give prizes to women who never leave the house. Less is more... unless you mean jewelry, attention, or chocolate.

More to follow on my dangerous encounter with women.

Too Busy NOT To Blog.

1. We've spent a year and a half in our lovely town home. Now it is time to say goodbye... to my life. For the four month gap between the ending of my lease and the beginning of my marriage I will be residing in the spare bedroom of my parents house. It's funny, I always think their house is the perfect size... until I have to live in it. Try working with your Dad all day then going home to live with him at night. Well at least I can catch up on my John Wayne movies and watch golf on TV. SAVE ME!

For the record, my favorite thing about my town home was having a place to have cookouts.

2. I took the staff to my house for "Staff Lunch" to eat the left over "World Famous Tacos" which (in case you were wondering) is still world famous reheated. While we were there I introduced my Dad to the Wii. They became fast friends. I am beginning to believe that the Wii may have larger possibilities. I think if Nintendo actually made more Wii's we could end the fighting in the middle east. Jews, Muslims, Christians... we can all play Wii bowling.

For the record, I'm not very good at Wii bowling.

3. It's that time of year again. I'm going to the PCC Ladies Retreat. Why would a man go on a Ladies Retreat? I carry the heavy things and let's face it... someone has to use the remote. My next post will expand on these events.

For the record, I do like going because I get access to the spa.

@ Girls

Recently my fiance wrote a post about men and video games. Her contention is that men don't grow out of being boys because they still play video games in their twenties and thirties. This isn't really the case. One has nothing to do with the other. Men act the same way with video games as they do with any competitive sport or activity. What this does bring up is most girl's lack of understanding or acceptance of video games as a legitimate activity.

In college there was a sad sick cycle.

At the college I attended I was NEVER bored. If I wasn't sleeping, eating, studying, in class, or going out with friends there were always video games to fill in the gaps of time. What's that? fifteen minutes to kill till class? Lets get a quick round of Smash Brothers in. Oh, crap we are late for class.

But unfortunately, the girls did not have the same experience. They weren't playing video games, board (bored) games, reindeer games, or any games. They were sitting around waiting for the boys to call. Because every girl came to college with the same five chick flick movies, watched them the first day and sat around bored the rest of the year.

Now this is where the break down exists. The girls would call us or see us and we would be yelling and laughing and having a great time (because we were playing video games). They would say, "Hey, they are having a lot of fun. We want to have a lot of fun, lets invite them over." And so like kids being lured with lollipops, us guys would stop our fun and go over to hang out with the girls. I don't know why. It was the same every time. We would arrive and their would be the initial meet and greet with a little flirting mixed in. And then the energy would be promptly sucked out of the room as the guys realized that we had been tricked. This would usually come in the form of a comment like, "Wait! That's your TV! I thought it was a microwave." Or the famous, "So what are we going to do?" "I don't know what do you want to do?" Oh No....

There was nothing fun going on here. They were expecting us to provide entertainment for them. Unfortunately, most of our fun consisted of video games and doing things that girls won't do because they are insecure and won't do something that might look or make them look "silly." In a desperate panic we would peruse their movies only to find one copy of The Wedding Planner for each girl who roomed at that location. Not that ten people could watch a movie on the heart monitor they called a television set anyway. Then we knew we were screwed, because the girls would be frustrated with us that we weren't fun when we came over. And we couldn't just leave because that would be social suicide. Things would get so awkward that eventually we would just try and get on the girls nerves so they'd make us leave.

We really couldn't win, because sometimes they would call and hear us having fun and want to come over to be where the fun was at. Of course when they arrived we were playing video games. They would insist that video games were not fun so we'd stop playing and the night would take a down hill turn because they didn't have any new ideas, so then no one was having fun.

In the end all of this could be avoided if girls would view video games as a legitimate activity that is fun. Sure, you're not going to be good at it right away, but that's fun too. However, they think it is for kids. And because girls don't want to appear silly and they all want to be older and more sophisticated then they really are... everyone suffers. I personally think if girls played more video games they would be better friends. They would get the competition out of the way with Mortal Combat and then wouldn't have a lot of time on their hands to be petty.

Thank God at least my fiance likes Wii Sports.

But Bivens had Video Game Music At His Wedding!

So in preparation for my upcoming september wedding, Charissa and i have begun organizing the service and picking out music. We have alot of the music already, but we need a song to walk out to. You know, after the "I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. LM" and then we walk down the isle. So far Charissa has not been "thrilled" about my suggestions. Can you recomend something?

My suggestions are...

Nowhere to run - Martha Reeves & the Vandellas
Highway To The Danger Zone - Kenny Loggins
You've Got The Touch - Transformers The Movie (cartoon) Soundtrack
Let's Get It On - Marvin Gaye
You're The Best - Joe Esposito (Karate Kid Soundtrack)
Queen - Somebody to Love
The Darkness - A Thing Called Love

Dreams wrapped in candy goodness

Smash Brothers Brawl was released today for Wii.


Don't be a Bivens.

Revenge of the Nerds!

I am and have always been a nerd. Allow me to illustrate my point.

In the early years of my high school experience I was placed in a gym class that was everything you expect from a stereotypical gym class. Underclassmen were periodically thrown into the shower if you could not manage a death grip on your locker door like Chris who was suspended horizontally for a good 3 minutes while three seniors helped him put permanent finger shaped indents in his locker door. Or Thomas who wheeled himself out to stretches late because he was duct taped to a computer chair. But the fun didn't stop then...

Because gym was immediately followed by lunch. And seven of us who were in gym together and lets say "were in desperate lack of cool" sat at the table next to the seniors. We were each given nick-names like "Luc's Peep Show" "Hunch" "Ike" "Stewart" "Glass Eye" and "The Mole Man."
And just about every other day, the lunch room was captivated to see which one of us would get (be forced) to wear the hat that the seniors had made that day out of the various cups and containers they had eaten their lunch out of. Never before had cruelty been so avante garde. I would have saluted their creativity if I didn't have fry grease running down my forehead.

I had more than my fair share of experiences as a nerd in Jr. High and Sr. High. It used to be a daily grind on my self-esteem and let's just say it kept me on my toes. I used to wonder what life would have been like as one of the "beautiful" people.

But now I think that nerds are the "new black." With the help of Weezer, Napoleon Dynamite, the return of 80's fashion, Bill Gates (our leader), and all the other rich nerds dating supermodels... nerds have made a comeback. I would be proud to raise children who are nerds, (this will more than likely happen whether I like it or not) because it is not about being a social outcast anymore. It seems to be a right of passage to doing great things and being successful and well balanced. Because now that the flood of awkwardness has receded, it turns out my friends and I are well adjusted and ended up not that weird looking. Just wait til the reunion...

Making History...

I'm pretty sure that someday historians and 9th grade history teachers will note this era as the reason America failed as a nation. You don't think it's true...?

In the entire history of this great country only one president has been impeached: Bill Clinton. Nixon was going to be impeached, but to save the country and himself the embarrassment, he choose to resign. But not Bill... Bill took time out of running the country to deny the allegations that he had partaken in "sexual relations" with an intern. In fact, the charge which may or may not have been a big deal for his political career was not what marred the character of our country. Our leader, the President of the United States, had the audacity to stand before a grand jury and pander about the meaning of the word "is". Because they more than proved that he had an affair. Now it was about proving that Bill had committed perjury. Which he had.

And once we had established that Bill Clinton, President of the United States committed perjury and gross misconduct... we did nothing. He didn't resign. He wasn't fired. If I lied for my buddy in traffic court I could be sentenced to up to five years in prison. Bill... nothing.

And now we are seriously considering making his wife... the woman who stood by him, condoned his perjury, and went along with sweeping it under the rug... President of the United States of America or (vice-president).

This will be coined as the era in which America failed. I feel like I'm taking crazy pills! Does no one else notice this stuff?

Behold the Christmas Eagle Cometh!

I have decided that when Charissa and I have kids, that I'm going to adopt some parenting methods that are... well... let's call it "less than conventional." Allow me to give you an example.

You never really know if your kids are actually listening to you when you speak to them, so I'm going to teach my children to make a "listening face." This will, of course, be one of the most ridiculous faces I can come up with. So if they make this particular face I know they are listening to what I'm saying. This becomes more fun when we send them off to school. I imagine the first parent/teacher conference. "Little Billy makes this face when ever I am teaching." "That's my boy! Good listening skills!"

Another case came up on New Years Eve. Charissa and I went to the Brookfield Zoo, which is actually a lot of fun on New Years Eve. It is a festival of lights.... LAZER LIGHTS! That's right, after the magician who gains his powers from his magic beard is finished with this conjuring, you can see a laser light show. This may be the lamest thing I have ever seen. Its laser representations of bears playing saxophone, zebra's running through the plains of Africa, and hippos doing the Do Wop in the background. But at one point as the circus style music reached a crescendo, a giant eagle swooped down. And in the midst of my excitement I shouted into the crowd, "Look! It's the Christmas Eagle! God bless us, everyone!" And I'm not sure, but I could have sworn I heard a small child tugging on his mother's coat say, "Mom, what's the Christmas Eagle?"

And so, at my house there will be no Santa Clause. I will teach my children about the Christmas Eagle. If you are a bad little boy or girl the Christmas Eagle leaves dead mice and magical Christmas Eagle poo on your pillow at night. But if you are a good girl or boy, the Christmas Eagle swoops down into your room and bestows upon you a special Christmas blessing. He does this by chewing up the Christmas spirit and regurgitating it into the sleeping boys and girl’s mouths just as he would do to his own chicks. I might make a claymation video. Oh Christmas Eagle....

The rule of 2's

Rule of 2's: If a movie has a generic subject matter that no one holds exclusive rights to, it will be imediately followed by an other movie almost identical to it. Sometimes it seems like the same movie was filmed with different actors. Example: United 93 and World Trade Center were released 3 months apart in 2006. Example: 1492 and Columbus were released a month apart in 1992.

Rule of 2's: In harder math like Calculus, if you are facing a sample math problem in a text book the answer is almost definitly 2.

Rule of 2's: The second movie, or sequel, is always worse than the first unless followed by a third movie.

Rule of 2's: Having a pair of 2's in poker is a trap.

Rule of 2's: Two is better than one, until you cut yourself with a double bladed razor.

Rule of 2's: If one person wears an certain outfit, they are cool. If three or more wear the same outfit, they are a team. If 2 people wear the same outfit, they are gay.

The F word... Family.

Seriously, sometimes I think I am just glutton for punishment.

I have always just assumed that brothers and sisters can not be friends. That has been the majority of my life experience. My mother's sister is a user, a stereotypical white-trash, pregnant at 15, live in a trailer, collecting disability after one day on the job user. My Dad's brothers and sister are selfish, contentious, and we barely know them. So when my brother and I decided that we wanted to be more than that, I thought we were going to defy the very laws of science.

Just recently my mother called me concerned that I had not asked my brother to be the Best-Man in my wedding. (I was the best man in his wedding) Not only that, but he did not even make the cut for usher. She said she was afraid I would hurt his feelings. And in that moment I had to explain to my mother that our plan (my brother and I) to be friends, as well as brothers, had failed miserably.

My whole life I have celebrated my brother's victories; large and small. I have supported him. When he asked me for advice over and over I patiently responded knowing he would do the exact opposite and tell my parents I agreed with him. I was there in his failures. I was there through his addictions. I have done a list of "favors" a mile long. The only thing I ever got in return is a loose loyalty that disappears as soon as it is inconvenient for him. He despises me. He never celebrates my victories. Every step I take that is positive, he views it as something that makes him look bad and he has no reservations about letting me know how "mediocre" my life and talents are.

And the truth is that almost all of my friends get along with their siblings. They have great, healthy, fun relationships with their brothers and/or sisters. They act like friends.

If my brother was not family I would never speak to him again. He is toxic. But he is family...

As long as we are building a wall in Mexico... can we deport the Spice Girls?

Whenever it is an election year I begin to really think about America as a whole. Actually I think about it constantly, but I think every four years I think about it in a "I could make a difference with my vote" kind of way.

I'm really worried that America has some tough times ahead. The next twenty years could be pivotal. I think a great deal of our future is linked to idea of developing something we can export that the rest of the world could use. My suggestion...

I think we should use the technology of making ethanol from sea algae and corn, and instead of consuming 80% of the world's oil, lets export 80% of the world's clean burning fuel made from renewable resources. This will create jobs, give money to the American farmer, help the environment, free us from political obligations in the middle east, and (if the government taxes the exporting of it) could help us pay down the national debt.

If not, my runner up is bratty teenagers. We have tons of them, and as long as other countries want to be like America, lets give them some of our worthless teens that think they are entitled to everything.