I heard about the tragedy today at the Platte Canyon High School in Colorado, and then tonight I read the AOL news report on just what happened. It all makes no sense to me just as Columbine made me feel. I read that the gunman, an older guy, shot a 16 year old girl named Emily Keyes, and then himself. I just don't get it. I don't understand how evil can take advantage of innocence in the form of some unnamed man, armed and ready to die, for his own cowardice. My heart breaks for that community and those kids at that high school. Not to mention the younger kids who might have questions about what happened. I cannot imagine being a parent right now in that community...not to mention how Emily's parents are doing and what they must be going through. So, tonight, I had to write about it...in some way. I guess you could say this is some sort of poetry, although it's closer to what I would say if I were journaling it all. I wanted to talk about it. For example, I hate how the media sensationalizes violence such as today, and then as we have heard it before, the media has the gaul to ask why our youth today are so disconnected and numb to the world around them. The media is the real psychotic bagman passing to us, the violent content they feed on which we willingly are fed. Sick. Anyway, these words are for Emily. She didn't deserve any of this, not today, not ever. More later...

pointless seconds …
9/27/06

for the community of Platte Canyon High:
the usefulness of senselessness is maddening
for the conscientiously sensitive people.
the punishment is never enough to justify
the brutality of surviving enough to only live.
were the questions enough to suffice the curious
and feed the media its bites and chokes of need to know.
but, the legs too scared to run,
and the tears too big to quit,
remind the world that armed madmen run rampant
across the open fields of innocence and hope.
is there no regret in the eyes of we who assume comfort,
or we who want to forget tragic reciprocity to the ignored?
when do the generations to come,
with their entire God blessed being,
realize how safe their education into the world should be?
to the ones who cry out their grief,
who heard the cries of fear echo throughout corridors,
who were given choices to stay and be played upon,
who thought nothing at all but their families,
these are the ones who glimpsed evil in its face,
and now remember its aroma of death in their midst.
what about the ones to young to realize?
are the words ever enough to explain the reasons why?
Emily Keyes…
God, it was not her intention to die in her youth,
in her fear, in her solitude, by the hand of cowardice.
wrap your arms tightly around this one God,
for someone so young to see your face now,
makes no sense to those of us this side of death.
for we are the ones who hold the pain tightly as to why…
wrap your arms around the grief, the hurt, the loss.
for only you God can make sense out of such tragedy…
because not one of us can ever realize
why schools have become modern day venues of assassination.
not one of us…
where is the good to arise?
where is the healing starting?
how tight are the hugs tonight?
when is it all going to change,
so that your creation treats itself as one world,
one body, one people, one love?
may it be realized now,
now that death once again speaks to the division
humanity suffers by and is alone with.
can we ever become one,
so that no one person make the choice
to take the life of another?
God, I hope so…

Some of you may know that I write poetry, and that I began doing that when I was in high school, although then, it was mostly feeble attempts to somehow tell those whom I had some affection for, how I felt. Since then, I have mostly written poems dealing with pain, emotion, life, love, passion, anger, loss, violence, sex, fear, and regret. Over time, I have used poetry to cleanse my heart of losing those things that I assumed were mine for the keeping, or escaping into the ways of my head without really saying what it is that I want to say outright...I think certain people around me would be hurt or weirded out if they knew that some poems are directly about them and my response to how I felt or feel about them. This is not to say that all my poems are about people, but alot of them are about my relationship or lack of in direct response to who they are now, or who they were then, or what their lives could be now, including my wife, my family, my friends, myself and my God. Again, for me, writing poetry is about escapism into a world that is not anyone's world, but my world...one that I build with words, speaking my desires, or sense of love into it. And so, I thought I would give you an example. Something I wrote today. I just started another poetry book (this is number three), entitled "Violations Of Black" and this is actually the first poem in it. Perhaps these words are not yours, but maybe you can relate... More later...


blinding the heart
9/27/06

alone by day, solitary by night
the man wanders constantly.
worry and fear are companions
in this unreachable journey.
too long is the time to mend
the broken he feels all around.
the daybreak brings guilt
by obsession and travels into
the nowhere destination.
the image he sees is her face
buried in his chest…
so beautiful…

reading the minutes drain away,
the joy he sees in her eyes again.
twisting the words to what
they want means nothing said at all.
but, the moment that matters
is the here and now.
not some tomorrow waiting
on an inescapable clutch.
for the smiles tell it all
in the images of their faces
hidden in her chest…
so beautiful…

blinding the heart
is the consequence of time
breaking the memory of all that it is…
blinding the heart
is the substance of now
feeling the pain slip into their hands

she’s so beautiful…
does she even know?
she’s so beautiful
and she’s nowhere to be found
once again…

In the tradition of all Saturdays since I was two, I had planned on doing the most of the least I had to do yesterday, because after-all, it's Saturday! I figure why should I do anything at all, besides of course, watch college football! Now, I love college football. Always have. I love watching such notables as Notre Dame, Texas, Michigan, Michigan State, Nebraska, and of course, the best college football team this side of the Red River...Wisconsin.

So, there I was yesterday about to watch the preview of the day on ESPN, when I got a phone call. It was the choir director from my former place of servitude. She called and asked me if I would like two tickets to the football game against San Diego State University? Now, how could I refuse? She gave them to me, no strings attached. What a wonderful lady she is. So, I then called my bud and compatriot, double E aka Lurch! But, do you think he was answering his cell phone? No! I then called another friend of mine, but he was going to be detained the whole day spending time with his extended family, so he was out. I get a call at 1PM from Lurch. He is finally home, tell him about the tix, and after some convincing and a phone call, it was settled.

We drove to Mad City and of course, trying to find a parking place around Camp Randall is interesting. Parking thousands of cars is nuts. But, we drove around a neighborhood and there was a nice man inviting me to park in his driveway for the only the amazing low price of 15 bucks. Now, as Lurch and I walked to the stadium, I was shocked by the number of houses having pre-game parties...and let me tell ya, people were partying. Now, I found out that alcohol is prohibited within the stadium, SO, people generally get loosened up BEFORE the game, thus this why the student section is hilarious to watch. Granted not all the students there are drunker than skunks, but I would have to say quite a lot them are.

We walk around the stadium trying to find our entrance point, find it, walk up to the upper deck and find our seats. Where we were sitting was awesome, you could see the whole field. Needless to say, my Badgers ruled, although their passing game was off, and their defense was about ready to drop as the game ended. The final score was Badgers 14, Aztecs ZIP! SDSU had no chance. But, it was not an easy win, by any means, because my Badgers were making some stupid decisions. Which makes me incredibly nervous about next week's game against Michigan.

To top off this whole initial experience going to see my beloved Badgers play, Lurch and I were making our way back to our car, along with this massive sea of people. The stadium sits beside frats and sororities so, obviously, the celebration could be seen and heard as we once again witnessed our future leaders having a good time. One particular guy was up on a balcony, buck naked, with nothing but a long tube sock on covering his, uh, essentials. Now, this was something that I didn't need to see, but I saw some woman point, and my eyes followed. Eeesh! I told Lurch, "I wonder if that guy will remember what he did tomorrow." Ahh, the kids these days! Makes you wonder...was I that odd and careless in college too? Yeah, I think I was. More later...

I am by all definitions, a metalhead. Not a gearhead. Or a deadhead. Very different things. See, if I were a deadhead, I would be about 115 lbs, adorn my skinny body with tye-dye, smell like patchouli, and partcipate in meeting with Mary Jane. But, see I am not that person at all. Did not grow up that way, and frankly, am not all that interested in not showering on a daily basis. You say, "why are you a metalhead Jason?" Well...

I can remember growing up in Williston, ND. It was 1979. I had just gotten this really cool record player that my Mom found at a garage sale. It was white and orange. It rocked. I was so excited to have it. I played all sorts of records on it. I listened to such classics as "Mickey Mouse Disco," "Disco Duck," "Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack," "Disco Fire (compilation album)," and this weird single McDonalds put out that was called "F-R-I-E-N-D-S!" Anyway, my Mom used to take me to the James Memorial Public Library there in Williston. I loved going. I was looking through the records one day when I came across a record that would significantly change the course of my life. There in front of me was the coolest thing I had ever seen. The images were awesome...scary, and made me want to listen to this thing. It was none other than Kiss "Destroyer!" I checked it out, took it home, and put in on that white and orange record player. I heard the type of music that I would forever be in love with. "God Of Thunder" definitely changed my likeness from Disco to Rock/Metal. And since then, it has been a great journey...listening to thousands of groups.

Another memory I have is when I was in the sixth grade. See, I might have been a metalhead, but I was truly a geek on the outside. I hadn't really found my true nitch in dressing the part yet. Didn't happen until I was in the 9th grade. See, in the sixth grade, I used to wear bad pullover sweaters, cords, ugly shoes, very ugly and uncomfortable sweatpants and sweatshirts (when nothing was clean) AND I had this bad, bad, haircut. I definitely did not fit in. But, I made a few friends at this time. One of whom was a guy named Jason Mackey. Mackey and I hung out alot. He lived on north hill by the airport. I would go to his house alot to stay over, watch movies, and listen to music. His influence on my listening ear was huge. He introduced me to such bands like Dokken, Quiet Riot, and April Wine. I can remember listening to Dokken's "Under Lock And Key" for the very first time at his house. His mom used to work at the airport as a security guard, so he had the house to himself alot. We took advantage of that, and we cranked that album so loud! God, it was great. 'Course we heard about it later from the neighbors, but we didn't care.

Another friend of mine in high school was a guy named Dan Davis. I met Dan our ninth grade year. He was from the Air Force Base, and transfered into Minot about the same time my family and I moved to Minot my sixth grade year. This guy knew more about thrash, speed, and black metal than I had ever experienced. He was big into Megadeth, Nuclear Assault, Exodus, Slayer, Misfits, and Anthrax. He and I used to eat lunch all the time in the cafeteria....same place everyday, eating the same thing day after day...hamburgers and fries. Then we would gather with our other metal friends and hang out in the third floor steps after lunch. We had a loogy spitting contest one day, but I will spare you the details. Dan was definitely a metalhead. Loved dark comic books, loved horror movies, wore the metal shirts, had the patched out denim jacket, plus he had the hair! Now, I had the hair...well, sort of. I had a kind of mullet then. Long cross earring, and feathered on top, long in back. It was not hockey player hair as mine had more product in it than they would ever be willing to touch. Ironically, I had my first drinking episode with Dan, the two Scotts, and Shawn. We all snuck on Base in Scott #1's Jimmy, with two cases - one Michelob, and one Red Dog. Ate pizza that night, drank beer in Dan's room, and watched all the Halloween movies. A metal moment at its finest...trust me!

College was a weird time for me. I was obsessed with the Pet Shop Boys. I know, I know. They are no where near anything having to do with metal. But, see I was a bit of a hopeless romantic depressive in college and their music spoke to me I guess about how I was feeling, how I should feel, and how I should not feel about love. Their lyrics and music were intelligent, so I was hooked. Now, I had a friend named Todd. Todd was into the eighties thing like I was, but he was also into seventies rock. Now, I wasn't. I knew who it was he liked and listened to, but I was not into them like he was. He listened to two bands non-stop - AC/DC and Rush...all of their early stuff too. I would endure this, not knowing that some ten years later I too would have most of Rush's catalog and most of AC/DC's classics as well...the same stuff he was listening to in Livedalen, first floor.

See, alot of my metalheadedness, comes from all the friends I used to hang with. That's not a bad thing. In fact, I like thinking about those memories, because we all had music in common...our love for it, and our rebellious nature because of it. We all found some common thread by which we could flip off the world with, and we loved it. This is not to say that I do not dabble in other types of music, but I always come back to the sonic bombastic ferocity of that which is metal. I have country, smooth jazz, blues, new wave, college radio, pop, synth pop, acoustic, rap, and I even have bagpipes (to name a few) in my CD collection. But, nothing can touch the response my brain and heart have when I hear the opening chords of "Wasted Years" by Maiden, or the drums on "Jesus Saves" by Slayer, or the guitar solo on "In My Dreams" by Dokken. It all makes the hair on the back of my neck come to attention, and that was the same feeling I had when I was five, listening to "Destroyer" for the very first time on vinyl. I loved every second of it. So, I may be older, I may not be able to fit into all my metal shirts anymore, my denim jacket does not fit, and I may be juvenile when it comes to still wanting to watch music videos on VH-1 Classic, but I just don't care. I would rather listen to this music than anything else. My kid is already digging the metal thing...as he headbangs to his pap's music....definitely my kid. Bang Thy Head my friends...get the metal horns up on the hands, and enjoy it. More later...

P.S. You country fans have no chance of turning me...you know that don't you? Yes, I am talking to you Di and Deb! No chance! Now, if Sawyer Brown ever became a speed metal outfit, I might think about it...

Since I am kind of a loser and haven't really posted anything here of substance in a week, I thought I would key you in on what I am currently listening to, or what's in my CD player as they say, as I will take the easy way out for now and keep this brief.

Mastodon - "Blood Mountain"
Black Label Society - "Shot To Hell"
Muse - "Black Holes And Revelations"
Iron Maiden - "A Matter Of Life And Death"
Fear Factory - "Archetype"
Dio - "Evil Or Divine: Live In New York City"

I will have more to say later about my current stint as a stay at home MOM, er, Dad, and of course the ever elusive search for another call in a church. More later...

Can somebody please explain to me why automobile tires are so expensive? They are what? Rubber and bits of steel all woven together...or something like that I presume. Now, don't get me wrong. I got a heck of a deal, but still. I used to own a Geo Metro...yes...imagine the scene of me driving that. I put four new tires on that once. They were small tires...something like 13's I believe. I had a hell of a time even finding the things. When I did...I replaced them, and I think I paid just under 180 bucks for all four tires, aligned and balanced. Today was a whole different league of payment. But, my garage smells like a tire shop...ahhh, the smell of new rubber...this bonus smell emitting, wafting in the air as my four new tires boldy hold up my trusty steed. I can now look forward to putting at least fifty more thousand miles on my steed as we journey the highways and biways together, or at least until something else goes wrong with it or decides to fall off. God, I love owning a vehicle. Don't you? More later...

I am trying to find some inner peace and strength lately about the recent events of my life. Unexpected changes and chances have come into play within what I thought was the resiliency with which I guard my life. I have always tried to be a man who is serious yet, does not take myself too seriously, enjoys youthful spirits, reads an entire book from cover to cover, speaks my mind about politics, loves extended family, is not afraid of change, has learned from every one of my failed relationships and is deeply thankful for all of them, drinks a bit of The Macallan and of course Morgan Cokes, watches the movie Halloween on Halloween night every year, and then watches the Texas Chainsaw Massacre on said night as well, loves his wife and child, loves Dream Theater about as much, digs great steak, loves to fish with my pap, and really appreciates re-connecting with long ago acquaintances. I try to be the type of person that my friends know I am loyal to, and fun to be with, and yet am always available when they need me. I try to be the type of man my parents and my family will proud of and love no matter what I do or where I go.

Now, I guess I am somewhat complex too. I don't read minds well at all, although I have been accused of wanting people to do that with me. I am not all that good at expressing my feelings calmly in an argument in which I know I am right. I refuse to eat green bean hotdish, or any other hotdishes that have questionable food items in them. I am not all that good at feeling "happy" at a consistent rate. I struggle with weight and always have. I sometimes wonder what my own death will be like. I sometimes sit on my side of the bed with my feet hanging down for long periods of time wishing that the enormous content of thoughts and feelings in my head would go away. I think way too often about the past. I regret certain things I said or did to hurt others...particularly those whom I loved. I am very meticulous when it comes to organizing and filing my CD collection, and get irate when my family cannot understand that. I wish I talked more to what I considered at one time, my best friends. I feel alone too often. I sometimes wish I had some other job that wasn't so public or noticable. I wish I could dance. I want to be able to actually drive a golf ball down the course with drives at least 200 yards or better. I wish I could fly an airplane to see friends. I want to play drums better and faster. I wish I did not have the ability to regret decisions. I miss my youth.

I guess the above is about my head right now. So many thoughts. So many feelings. So much I wish I could figure out. To be honest, I have tried now for the last couple weeks to be stronger or a better person for what crap was thrown at me. I cannot say that it has been the easiest, nor would I expect it to be. But, for the most part after saying good bye to people from church, I feel very alone. Not too many people have said anything to me from the church. I see some out and about around town, but mostly looks or a nod or a Hi. Maybe this is how it's all supposed to be. I don't know. But, I do know that when I was in seminary, I felt the same way. I was around tons of people and yet I felt like the lonliest person in the class room. And it was really because I didn't have anyone I could be myself with. Oh, there were two guys I liked to hang with, but they were older and I got the sense that I was bothering them or that I was a nuisance. Same can be said as a pastor. If it were not for the youth minister and his wife, my wife and I would not have friends to talk to from the church. No one but them chose to be close to us. Everyone else...there is distance. Maybe it goes with the gig of being who I am. But, I have always tried to have a few friends around me who I can be myself with.

This past weekend was good. My wife and I just got back from Coon Rapids MN for my cousin's wedding. It was really good to see family. When my family gets together, it's kind of like the Norwegian mob. I mean even the amount of cousins we are is amazing. It's fun, but crazy. See, with them, I can be myself. They know where I come from, who I was before all this pastor stuff, how dorky and geeky I was when I used to follw them around. See, they are becoming more and more important for me as I see the importance of being a family. They are the ones who offer their shoulder or ear to cry on or listen with. Lots of my cousins had heard what happened and they all said something to show they cared. That means alot. It feels good. So, getting out of Janesville was what I needed to do this weekend and it was a great time. Especially hanging with Nick, Chris, Roger and Jan. Congrats Doug and Suzanne. Hope you both make a good start in Fargo... Viva Les Bison! (Please do not ostracize me for that last comment...for I know one day, my son will piss everyone off in his family and go to a college no one wants him to go to...NDSU! Oh yeah, trust me.)

I am trying to remaim hopeful about what's next, but it's not something I excel at by any means. I need to make some phone calls this week, schedule some visits with the right folks, and do what I can to make the process happen. I do hope for a better place and better experience to cleanse my mouth...because right now I have had a bad taste lingering in it for about a month, and it needs to go NOW. More later...