I have been moved these last few months, by the death of a few people I was close to. With what I do and how much I am around death, it comes as no surprise that it makes me think of my own mortality, and how much I have or have not lived. It always forces me to ask questions of my existence in regards to what kind of person have I been so far, have I loved as much as I could, how have I been as a husband or dad, am I walking the walk with my faith, how much of me is protected and guarded yet, etc. I have all these questions rolling around in my head simply because death is final...there is no way to make any of those questions resolve once you are gone. It makes me wonder how those who are close to me may deal with life without me. Not that I am planning on going anywhere soon, but I wonder what life would be like without me.

That is not an arrogant question as if life depends on my own existence to make it legitimate or fulfilling, rather I am around people all the time who deal with life now that their loved one is gone. And what I see and experience with them is varied from massive grief, to relief, to lonliness to anger. Their lives are now filled with that void that needs to be filled in somwhow with time. Perhaps the more full a person lived, leaves all the bigger hole that needs to be filled. When one squeezes so much into the time span they live, there is only so much that can be replaced once they are gone. Life was enjoyable, meaningful, and movable with those we loved and were close to. Imagine what that life looks like now for those who are left. I thought about all this as I wrote my latest poem. It seems morbid or even as a final notation of my thoughts before life ends, but I wanted to ask these questions or place these thoughts in such a way that life can not be the same for me without them nor will it be the same without me. I guess I do not want those who are left without me, to have to answer those questions on their own without knowing that I posed those questions with the intent of answering them now, before there is no possible way of resolution. More later...

end the question
12.30.07

what would you do without me?
would you miss everything about me?
could you be happy without me?
who would replace the space of me?
could you take long walks without me?
would you eat alone without thinking of me?
could you sleep at night without me
listening to the rhythm of your breath?
wouldn’t you miss the touch of my hand
gently caressing your cheek?
could you wake up each morning knowing
that you wouldn’t hear my voice anymore?
would you be willing to laugh at
what made me funny and odd?
how many moments of boredom or apathy
would run through your mind without me?
would you remember the conversations
of anger and resentment,
frustrating the commitment we strongly made?
would you remember the moment
we felt one another the first time?
when would you look at old pictures
of you and i, or maybe me, or all of us?
would you grieve the moments unmade, unlived?
would you listen to music in the same way?
would you cry in the shower so as not to let
anyone know you have been crying?
how many places will you see knowing
that i was there without you or with you?
how many words will you repeat knowing
that those were the same words i used with you?
how much more love could i have squeezed out of me
to let you know that i cannot take you for granted?
how much more love would i have felt for you
had i not thought about myself?
how much more of a decent man could i have been
for you when you needed me to shut up and listen?
when would i have known that all it took
was to try harder in my commitment to you
and to the life, love, and faith that we shared?
would you regret anything about me?
would you be ashamed of anything that i said or did?
would you be able to forgive me?
what kind of parent would you be without me?
would my child remember my face, my voice, my faith?
would he grow up knowing that i lived to love him,
that he helped me be a better man and a better person?
would you call my parents and talk to them?
how often would you visit me?
would you stand in the sunlight
and try to feel my presence there?
when would you open your eyes from that moment?
would you be able to feel the ground beneath you?
if you drove away from there, would you
remember me even more than yesterday?
would you remember my eyes?
would you remember my face?
would you remember my heart?
now can you think of what you would do without me
while i am here, breathing and alive…waiting?
“Can you see me, feel me, become me?”

Here is my top ten list of CDs released this year, well at least I think they are pretty good. Thus the list of my opinion. These releases cover a few varied genres...mostly metal or progressive metal. I think these are the top ten as they are all CDs that I constantly listened to throughout the year...constant rotation in my playlist on the Ipod! Perhaps you will agree with me or not, but if you choose to disagree, please add your own choice...well, within reason of course! I mean, please do not try and pollute this list with some terrible country CD. That would be sacrilegious of course! Here goes:

10) Demon Hunter - Storm The Gates Of Hell












9 W.A.S.P. - Dominator












8) Poverty's No Crime - Save My Soul












7) Serenity - Words Untold & Dreams Unlived












6) Saga - 10,000 Days

5) Marillion - Somewhere Else












4) Porcupine Tree - Fear Of A Blank Planet












3) Neal Morse - Sola Scriptura

2) Threshold - Dead Reckoning












1) Dream Theater - Systematic Chaos

That Boy Could Sing! Part One...

I was cleaning my trusty steed tonight, and tucked into a crevice were these CDs. I forgot I had them. They are Campfires '92 and More Campfires '94 from Camp Metigoshe. I remember I had the tapes, but a friend of mine put them on CD for me. As I type this, I am listening to them right now. The summer of '93 when I was a counselor there along with Bram and quite a few others, we did this musical that our director wrote. During that summer, we went into a recording studio in Minot, and recorded these songs we were all singing that summer. You know, the classics! But, then we recorded these songs from the musical we were doing every week. There was a song called "Blessed to be a Blessing." I remember when we first learned it, Bram would take the high harmonies, and would just soar above everyone else. Well, I just heard that song for the first time in a long time, and wouldn't you know it, there's Bram's voice signing that high harmony! It's beautiful to actually hear his voice singing away like that.

Bram was so gifted when it came to singing. Our senior year in high school, we formed this acapella group - Me, Bram, Chris, and Frank. We actually did quite well. Although when I tried to name the group "Northern Lights," Bram was very vocal about his disdain for the name. I can't say it was a great name, but it was a name. We tried to sing songs by Glad, Accapella, Take 6 (that was unsuccessful, but we tried), and then whatever else Chris wanted us to try. I remember we sang for our church, we sang in Bismarck at some high school for a competition, and then I remember we sang at our own high school talent show. It was very cool, but then to sing with some talented guys made it seem easy.

Bram definitely had that gift of being able to hear that harmony without needing some kind of help. He could always find that middle pitch well, and then he would sing it flawless. When he and I would write music, he would always find that harmony from me, and because we both had voices that sounded alike, we would blend really well together. I miss that energy he had when it came to writing lyrics and then sitting down to actually chord things out. We wrote maybe six or seven songs together, and they were alright. One in particular, I can sing most of...our worship band a few years ago, warmed up with those chords from that song Bram and I wrote. I think it was called, "Love," and it was very, very influenced by a band called Lightning Seeds, which Bram and I were obsessed with. We played "Love" twice in public. Once at Kim Cook's sweet 16 party, and the other was at our high school talent show. I wish I had a recording of that song. I still remember singing that song for that talent show, and when we heard the applause, I looked down and saw Amber Peterson wiping the tears away. That was the power of Bram's voice...able to make the girls swoon. Well, at least, a few girls that I remember.

Anyway, I miss those days. They were all so unexpected...nothing happened out of routine or because we were bored (Que the Pet Shop Boys singing "Being Boring" here). We had fun, mostly got along, and had lots of memories made then. I remember being with our girlfriends at the time, at his house, pretending to watch movies. Course, we did not watch movies much with them. I just remember hoping and praying to God that Bram's Mom would not come down stairs and ruin the moment, er, uh, movie night! I remember sleeping on Bram's bed and he would literally take every damn cover on that bed, wrap himself into a cocoon of blankets, and leave me out in the cold. I eventually began to search out my own bedding at his house. I remember playing Nintendo with him...he was very competitive when it came to any game, especially Mario Bros. Those were good times. We both had moments of teenage jealousy or moments of frustration (mostly it was me who got frustrated about Bram, since he would always insist on just being himself...it would rarely, but at times, piss me off...because I wanted to be that way. He just did it better, and he would get away with it well. I then would slink off and not call him for a day or two. God I was so uptight then!). It was Bram who taught me how to sing, how to be sensitive, how to have somewhat of a care for what I wore, and he taught me how to smell good. He just gave me some kind of self-confidence, and reassurance that I am unique and individual. Giving me all that helped me get through some weird, bad times in high school. Hell, it all helped me get through high school.

Yeah, I am feeling nostalgic right now. I guess we all do at times. I just remember being around him were some of the best times of my life. It was then too, that we both vowed that if we were not married by the time we were thirty, we were going to move to Minneapolis, turn gay (how that's done by choice is beyond me, but we were willing to learn), own two cats, live in a big studio apartment, and eat rice and chicken three times a week. He was going to be an artist and I was going to write books. I remember that plan. What the hell were we thinking? I remember that he and I were convinced that we would not find anyone who would want to remotely put up with either of us, so we figured we would for each other. That was our way of looking at the possibilities of marital bliss... What did we know... 30 seemed like an eternity away. Now I wish I was 17 all over again now that I have reached 30 plus 3. More later...

My admission, My rant, My "mea culpa," My life...

I am officially recovering from the Christmas insanity that occurred at church. Unlike last year, where the Sunday of Christmas eve, we also had two worship services in the morning, this year was a bit better. I got to preach this year at the 3 and 5, which was very cool. I did a first-person sermon through the eyes of a sheep, sitting on the outskirts of Bethlehem Christmas night. It actually worked really well. I was a bit spent though, after 3, and so the 5 sermon was still there, but not as catchy or maybe as humorous as the 3 was. But, it was still fun to do. Then, at the 10, my colleague and I offered a few reflections on why God is with us. That was very cool. That service just has a different tone. Very quiet, reflective, very soft. Yet, we were quite honest about living this life as God is with us, and that message is not always meant to be soft and fluffy. It was real, and honest.

Between the 5 and 10, I went home, scarfed down some lasagna and salad, with the cheesy bread, talked to our good friend Deb who was there, having come to the 3 worship. We opened gifts, and then I crashed. It was hard to get back up, put the church clothes back on, and do it all over. I just was about empty. You know, I was having this conversation with my colleague. His daughter asked him the other day, "Aren't you excited for Christmas?" To which he said, "Yeah, I guess." To which she said, "Why aren't you really excited?" "Well, it's difficult for me as a pastor to be excited about Christmas. See, it's our job as pastors to help others have an enjoyable, worshipful Christmas, and that can take a lot of you. It's difficult to enjoy it when you lead worship multiple times. It can be tiring." He said this to me, and it made sense. I am tired every year I go through this. Not like a "drowsy, hey I had one too many cocktails last night" kind of tired. But this is more like a "I am finally done with all of my college finals...time to crash" kind of tired! So, I spent most of yesterday just being a zombie. I am finally feeling alright today. I just cannot believe that Christmas as we know it, is over. Christmas just came very fast this year for some reason. I guess this fall has not been slow at all. Considering all the major life events this fall that have surrounded me, I can see why I have not been all that attentive to calendar nor have I wanted to. I found myself during worship this year, just sort of numb to the fact that I was there, leading worship along with my colleague, and I wasn't really feeling it. I have felt like I was giving God praise leading worship on other Christmas eves, but this year, I just did completely feel it. Does that make me a terrible pastor?

You know, it's different with this life...this job, this calling. Very few of us appreciate what it's really like, and those who are on the outside of what a pastor's life is really like, has no clue as to how it can really affect a person, their family, and their spirit. I am not saying that I can't stand what I do or that I am pitying myself. In fact, I love what I do. But, I wish that the entire church could stand in the pulpit, look out at four hundred faces, and be able to give a Christmas message from the heart, even though inside, that need to worship as well, is not being met. I feel the same way when Easter gets here too. I just want to worship, but it's not always fully possible when you are called to lead others into it with your heart, your attention, and your time. I asked a pastor friend of mine the other day, "Do you think people really appreciate what we're doing?" And he said, "Yeah most people do I think. But, there are always going to be those who will take us for granted. We give them what they expect, and that's what they want." I think of my friend who is a Roman Catholic priest who has such a good humor about his calling, and yet he is very realistic about how the church is in competition for people's time.

Anyway, this Christmas has been strange among all the others I have been privileged to lead worship for. Maybe this year has been strange. I just know that part of this gig as being pastor, is that I get to do things, see things, be a part of people's lives like nobody else. I see the darkness and the brightness of the human heart constantly. I get to be with people in the most horrible gut wrenching moments of loss, and I get to be with people in the most joyful, outpouring of tears moments of celebration. Then, I get to live in between those moments. Alot of good ministry is done in those moments. It's those moments of one on one prayers with a 95 year old, doing a rap with the third grade girls at the Christmas play, or giving communion to someone who has hours to live...those are the moments that nobody else experiences as I do. That's the richness of living this life acknowledging the spiritual and the temporal right in the front of me, in front of others. That's the beauty of living in the interlocking of God's kingdom with this one we call here and now. I get to be a part of how the kingdom looks like here. I get to help people bring the kingdom of God here so that it looks more like who God is and not who we are. I guess I forgot about all that this Christmas. Maybe for me, I know that the best parts of me and what I give to worship come not just on that one night, but the rest of the year. I worship with those people, in those moments, that I don't need a pulpit to lead from, or four hundred other faces to see. I worship God mostly...just Him and me. That's the most rewarding because it's honest. I cannot fake it when it's God and me, alone. God sees my heart. He knows what I am offering. Maybe that's why I am tired this Christmas. Because I offered all I had. How do I get that energy back to recharge my Spirit? I have the first two seasons of CSI: Miami to keep me occupied! Is there anyone cooler than David Caruso? More later...

We had our staff Christmas lunchoen today, thanks to my colleague who graciously took us out to one of our local Italian places. I love Madison, partly because of all the restaurant choices and variety. I mean, if I want Thai, I can have it. If I want some good ribs, I can have them. If I want to go to some place Italian, other than Olive Garden, I can go there. You get my point. Well, we went to Benvenutos, which is this local place, very good. Prices are way cheaper than OG, and I think the food is way better! This afternoon, I had the garlic shrimp fettucini. Now, I realized I should have thought about it before I ordered, but anything with the word "garlic" in it, should clue me in as to what I might be in for. So, I begin to chow down. Now, I like garlic in my food, but when the garlic is cut into some serious size chunks, I know that I will be chomping my Orbit "spearmint" gum to help people come near me closer than ten feet! It was very good, but then again, if I ever have a sudden craving for cooked, elephant garlic cloves, boy do I know where to go! You know, I am just so thankful to go to lunch like that with such a great church staff. They make this job enjoyable and fun. I am fortunate to work with some very great people. They are the ones who make me become better at what I do, and I am really grateful for their hard work. So, we all ate in celebration of making it through this year together as a team. But, they are all keeping their distance from me. I wonder why? More later...

Why I Am Lutheran!!!

Why I am Lutheran? These are the most widely known reasons...

I am Lutheran because my faith is dependent upon me getting something out of church each and every time I come once a week, knowing that my ears will hear a message of grace and forgiveness so that I can somehow feel better about myself for another week. Oh, and I keep hearing about this Jesus and how I should make him the Lord of my life, but I am content to live life just knowing he died for me.

I am Lutheran because I do not really want to hear the fine tension between law and gospel, even though I know what those terms mean.

I am Lutheran because like the Israelites had Abraham as their father and they rode his coat-tails on that identity, so too do I ride on the fact that I am a member of a church, maybe for fifty years, and that one church IS MY church, so therefore I own that church, and I have controlling interest as to how my money is spent, who gets to sit where, who I call for my pastor, taking notice of all the dirty spots on the narthex carpeting, and don't even get me started about how I feel about how my church has drums, guitar, and piano in church....that is just not right!

I am Lutheran because the only instrument that is qualified to accompany any and all singing as a solo or a congregation, is of course the organ, preferably 5 or more consoles with multiple pipes for an added sense of grandeur!

I am Lutheran because my church does not expect anything from me, and I can therefore blend into the crowd as I come in and out if its life.

I am Lutheran because my church does not teach the bible at all...well, ok, the pastor teaches me on Sunday, but that's about all the bible I need to get me through.

I am Lutheran because I can belong to a church, become a member, come to worship once a year, commune once a year, give as much as five bucks, and still receive the church newsletter, vote at the annual meeting, expect my pastor to visit me in the hospital (even though I have not called the church or told anyone to call the church to let them know I am there) whenever I am there, know my family and my kids, know my occupation, know that I am a good person and that I do not struggle with anything, and that I would raise hell if the church asked me for any of my time.

I am Lutheran because my parents were Lutheran. Their parents were Lutheran. Their parents were Lutheran. Their parents were Lutheran even before they left Norway (Sweden for you heathen!).

I am Lutheran because I know what delicious food tastes like, smells like, and looks like. I can describe to you in great details what lutefisk is, what German potato salad is, and just how many carrot shavings are allowable in orange or green jello! I use my fine culinary skills for every funeral the church has, and am disappointed when the pastors do not complement me and my co-workers for our developed skills of offering the cheapest of ham sandwiches and the richest of hotdishes...including one with green beans!

I am Lutheran because I along with my cohorts, own every inch of the church's kitchen! I know how many forks, knives, coffee cups, saucers, trays, and Nescos are behind the cabinet doors. I can describe verbatim, the operating instructions for the Hobart dishwasher, although I am not willing to actually run it, because that would take away from my hosting duties! I of course, am also very offended when intruders decide to use the kitchen and leave anything out, ignoring its rightful place of existence. I am Lutheran because my kitchen is as sacred as the sanctuary itself!

I am Lutheran because I rely on other people to do the difficult work of actually serving the church. I do this because I do not have the time, I feel I am not all that competent to do whatever it is, and that I may have actually done my time in the past to serve the church. I choose now to willingly stand on the sidelines even though I along with my other Lutheran friends, have not decided to give up and let go of the reins so that the younger generations below us can do things maybe even better. I am Lutheran because I do not want to participate, but I love to control the church.

I am Lutheran because I feel I need communion once a week. And that communion needs to be at every service just in case I feel I need to come to the second service, because I overslept from last night's Lawrence Welk marathon. I need to receive communion on my knees up front around the altar, because it makes me seem more humble if I am seen that way. And don't even get me started about the whole intinction thing. Nothing but communion as a drive-through option!

I am Lutheran because I want my kids to come to confirmation when they feel like it. I will of course expect my pastor to understand that sports are what keeps my child happy, so as long as they want to do it, and they are good at it, my pastor needs to understand then why we cannot come to worship on Sunday or Saturday, because we are always out of town for games, meets, tournaments, matches, semi-finals, or finals! And I expect my pastor to compromise his expectations for my child because we are a church of grace...doesn't everyone get confirmed? I also need my pastor to understand that my child needs to leave early on Wednesdays before confirmation gets done because he/she needs to go to practice. And I do not think it's right that my child do sermon notes, worship participation things like acolyting, ushering, etc., and that my child should be allowed to not come to Sunday School...I mean, come on, that was over after their third grade year!!! I am Lutheran because I want my child to be confirmed even though I have no intention to fulfill the promises I made on behalf of my child the day he/she was baptized!

I am Lutheran because I was baptized Lutheran, went to Lutheran sunday school, went to Lutheran confirmation, left church after confirmation, went to a Lutheran college, came back to the Lutheran church to be married there, had my kids baptized Lutheran, they did all the things I did when I was their age in the Lutheran church, and of course, I will have my funeral in a Lutheran church. I mean isn't that the point of life anyway...to make to heaven because I was such a good Lutheran...er, person?

I am Lutheran because that's all I know, all I have ever known, and all I ever will know!

More later...

I Miss My Friend Bram! Two months, and I still cannot quite believe that everything really happened. I still feel as if I have not been awakened from this horrible nightmare in losing my friend. God, I wish he was around so I could maybe have one more smoke with him, one more drink with him, and tell him I love him one more time.

I love this song by Porcupine Tree! It's called "Lazarus." The beauty in this song for me, is that this song is sad and happy at the same time. I definitely learned very early with Bram how to enjoy music that had both of these qualities, and to be inspired by the tension of both happy and sad. Definitely a beautiful song. I hope you enjoy it. More later...

Allow me to tell you my newfound realization! I AM TIRED OF SNOW! I am glad that I have a snow blower to clear out my driveway and of course the damn mess that the plow leaves at the bottom of the driveway. Actually, that's the worst part. It piles up and is like twice the thickness of the snow that originally fell on the driveway and adjacent sidewalk. Pisses me off! Now, the entrance at the bottom of my driveway is at least half of the regular width of my driveway because of the said plow issues. So, when you drive into the driveway, you actually have to maneuver into the garage carefully, as well as backing out. That's interesting too. Anyone backing up may suffer the wrath of the piled snow at the bottom of my driveway, as one might happen to back up into said pile of snow guarding my house as if they are pillars of deservable death and retribution. Oh yeah, you know you have too much snow at the corners of your driveway piled up, that you can barely see the mailbox from under all of it! I wish I was eight again when I would make use of piles such as those and tunnel into them to make snow forts, or igloos depending on my mood. I made some very cool forts that way, but I had no one as my enemy to defend it against. Well, my newborn sister was around but she had a hard time just holding her head up, much less making snow balls to pelt her brother with so as to defeat him and claim victory for the fort!

You know, I wish I was like the guy across the street from us who works for a construction company somewhere in Madison. He just brings home a Bobcat from work, and clears out his drive that way. And he is done in 3.8 seconds flat! Plus it's damn cool to clear out the driveway with something that resembles a miniature tank...sort of and without the big gun on top. It's also days like today that I am happy that I have my trusty steed to blow through town in, as the village of Oregon definitely is not all that quick on the draw clearing out any of the side streets. I needed the four wheel drive to actually push through the driveway to get into church and then later, into my own driveway (as I type this, the village plows still have not come down our street to make a path...and we have a cop who lives down the street...you'd think he might have some pull). Oh well, this is of course, what I get living in suburbia as I do. I like it here, even when it resembles Antarctica or the North Dakota of my youth when snow would be at least eight feet high...and that was in June! More later...

I am not really enjoying church too much lately. Namely because I feel like I see things right now, for what they are. I may have been too eager to see things with blinders on. I think after Bram's death, I just realize that I do not have time to play these fucking games in church about who gets to decide what color the ornaments should be on the sanctuary Christmas tree! I am feeling some pressure from the top down to do something that I frankly feel, I am not all that qualified to do (begin a small group ministry in a traditional Lutheran church setting!). So that's making me nuts, and it makes me feel as if those I answer to have not been listening to me, as I have said that very thing before. They knew that before they called me, I was not at all experienced to do this one thing. Now, I am being told that we need to have some sort of plan in place. Well, I know that the team I working on is more than capable of actually articulating that plan, but they are not ready to do that. I told this to the top down, and they are convinced it is a leadership issue. No shit! If I have never done this thing I am being asked to do, it will take some time to actually learn how I am to be a leader in actually articulating this plan. Maybe it's just me, but I feel too much pressure to put out something, that could equal that of a half-baked turd!

Frankly, this church does not deserve that. I want to be able to do my best, and offer the best kinds of things I can. To present something half-cocked is not going to do any good as it will not foster longevity. Small group ministry in a traditional Lutheran church may look good on paper, but when it comes to actually putting the ideas down, and following through on them, no one is qualified or experienced at all to even think about the best beginning point. I am not the type of person to do something without taking the time to learn about it. For fuck sake, I have been trying to work with this team since last April, and I am being told that the top down needs to be informed of our progress...bite me! Leave me and my team alone to do what we need to do without your damn opinions. Actually, I am thinking lately, that I may be mismatched to actually do this. But, I just keep trying to plug along. To be honest, since Bram's death, I have not been all that plugged into this group of mine, and it shows. I was ready to go somewhere before Bram's death with this group, but now I see things more clearly. At least, that we are not where we though we were, where I thought we were.

I love the idea of having a small group ministry in church, but it is not all enjoyable when you are the guy to have to design it, group it, plan it, report it, and then execute it. I am so not a detail guy. I hate details. I can see big pictures, but then to focus them is not all that good for me. Details are hard for me to prioritize and then do them that way. I get so lost in the details, worrying about getting them all done, instead of worrying about one at a time. Sometimes I wish I had OCD! DAMMIT! Anyway, I am done with my woe-is-me confession. But, you know I need to vent here. God knows that the top down does not take my concerns all that well. I am feeling that there are glimpses here of my former church. And that is not a good thing people. God, maybe it's me. Maybe I am the problem. I have these daydreams about getting out of the whole ministry thing altogether. The pressure that comes with this job sometimes, is not worth it. Life is too short for me to be stressed out about small group ministry. Too many other concerns are important first, but the top down believes that small group ministry will somehow be the savior of us all. That this ministry will somehow fix these concerns. Bullshit! I am not convinced it will.

I guess the other day, I really began to think about what I would do if I threw in the towel and left ministry permanently. I look out from the pulpit and I see tired, unresponsive faces, who are in church for something...I am not sure what. When people are asked to step up and take care of their church, they do not. I hate that. I am discouraged by seeing too many faces in church to just be there, and do nothing else. I figure at times, why try if people are already checked out? Defeatist? Me? Maybe. But, I have seen this before. Hours and care go into things to make ministry better in a church, and people by their disinterest, show that they are not interested in changing their life in the church. I am glad Jesus loves them. Because sometimes I do not have the strength to do it. Thank God Jesus is Jesus, and I am not. I like it that way! More later...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY COLLIN!

My wife and I are the proud parents of a three year old as of today. My boy turned the big "03" at about 1:25 this afternoon. I cannot believe I have a three year old. I have a friend who recently told me that he is the father of a teenager, who happens to go to the same junior high where this friend of mine and I met when we were that very age. I think without saying it to each other, we both felt old; like time had just been nothing but a blur. The next thing I know, my son will be 18, graduating high school, and going off to college or whatever else he wants to do. I have just a difficult time understanding where the last three years went. I am not sure how I am going to adjust to my son getting older, going off to school, making friends, trying to fit in, trying school activities, maybe having his first crush or having his heart broken.

These are all things I am not looking forward to, mainly because they will prove to me that my son is aging, getting older, and somehow I am too. I worry about him even now at day care. Maybe that's because I want to protect him from all the damn shallow evils of what other kids are capable of. I know I cannot do that, but I want to. I have this thing I do at night after my wife and son have gone to bed before me. I usually walk into his room and look at his face, which is illuminated by the Thomas the Tank Engine nightlight. I lean down and kiss his head, and tell him I love him. I stand and look at him one last time, as if that is going to be the last time I ever see his face. I remember that moment, because that's the image I want in my head as I fall asleep. I am so happy to be the father of a three year old, magnificent boy who is growing so fast...all I want to do is slow my life down long enough to watch him grow up before I miss it. Happy Birthday Collin! Love ya, buddy! More later...

This is my latest poem. I guess I was thinking about how we really are separated from one another and as we live in our own tight bubble of coroporate productivity or self-aggrandizing delusions of how we are well off and superior to others who have little, I started to think about the separation of people. Yet, in that separation, people become addicted to their own little corner of mediocrity. Their lives are a series of things they have done before...nothing comes as a challenge to believe in a greater driving force to live. For me, this does us no good if we are to leave this place more connected and nurtured than we found it. It's strange...my mind works very fast when I write, so the ideas come in a second...funny how this idea has stayed with me for a while.

eyes apart
11.30.07

all things around me are vacantly alone…
the blank stares from people beside me
leave me staring into what they look at.
i question the distance they must feel inside.
silence between everyone is contagious…
their splintering souls need love or time.
but it’s the mystery of the body within
that drives misery from the hiding places.
emerging with closed hands and cold skin,
humanity crawls to view the world in motion.
the noise of words drown out silence…
peace stands in-between the weak and ignored.
once again, the emptiness is vacant
of any instant connection of brand new trust.
validation of the soul is in the background…
i see thousands with hands held out for touch,
and yet they are pushed further back
into waiting for the pace of the world to notice.
they are their own blessing to each other
as no one else gets off the spinning
and teetering of the global ignorance of denial.
to save and feed, to love and to protect…
it seems the menu has a hidden expense
busy souls are already indebted to.
the space around their hearts into their
consciences might as well be a million miles.
an attitude of superiority suppresses
any shred of reply in compassion or decency.
humanity is in exile…away from suffering,
away from indifference, away from necessity.
realization of indecision lies dead and buried
by the realists who want their own needs first.
breaking the bread and drinking the wine
become rehearsed movements meaning nothing...
and so they quietly stare into the blank spaces
ahead of them, going into the moments of time.
they stare into the constant rotation of day and night,
of love and sex, of faith and doubt,
of jobs and pets, of school and luxury,
of sickness and gifts, of age and death.
unable to breathe freely from their hope,
they choke out the sunlight’s warmth from
the coldness that had been their life.
i see the blank faces stare at what they see,
and i begin to feel what separates them from me.
it is the distance of dread in a world of need.
the distance of high walls and far away emotion.
to be able to do nothing in a world that asks,
is taking its needs and executing their dreams of innocence.
and so i am left with this distance in my sight…i ask:
“when is it going to be alright for us all to stare at each other?”

Song Of The Day

This is such a great song by Marillion!!! Brings tears to my eyes each time I hear it. "Beautiful" makes me think of all the beautiful people and friends, love and passion, faith and stuggle that I am blessed with. Especially now that he is gone, this song makes me think of how beautiful Bram was, and how a song like this really describes his heart and how he saw beauty in everything! Anyway, I hope you like this song too... Sit back and close your eyes...listen. More later...

Last night, after confirmation was over, I took our babysitter home. My son was with me of course, as I did not think I should leave him home...I mean he is a responsible three year old, but come on. BTW, the going rate today for the average teenage babysitter... Holy crap! I am not cheap, but it is ridiculous what the average is around here (Average is $7/hr.) Anyone else know what your average is? Anyway, I took us both to McDonald's for some dinner. I ordered my 10 piece nugget meal and got my son a happy meal. The teller was of course forgetful with everything in my order, so I reminded her about the three things she forgot. This amused her I think, that I would have the nerve to actually ask her to give me the things that she herself forgot to pack into our meals. What an ass am I! So, my boy from his car seat asks for his toy. I grab this bag and I try to identify what the hell is in it. McD's is running their Shrek 3 DVD release promotion, and so it's no surprise that what I opened up was the gingerbread man from the movie. He is dressed in holiday garb. My question is this: when did McDonald's toys turn into the cheapest, worthless excuse for pieces of crap? This stuff is now inexcusably horrible.

We got home and my son looked at me with this plastic piece of shit as if to say, "what the hell do I do with this now Dad?" The head of this gingerbread man comes off, and reveals these paper cards, nine of them in all. There are three cards that if laid from top to bottom in the right order, will actually reveal who the character is. The cards are kept in the bottom half of the man, but that's not the weird part. Apparently, this gingerbread man is a game in and of itself. In the back of him is this plastic flip up button. With the head off, you are to hit the button real hard, it flips the cards out in a big mass. The goal is to match the cards based on how they hit...or some lame explanation that I read. Even I am confused about the stupidity of this toy.

I remember back in the day when these fast food chains would have really cool toys, especially McD's and Hardees. At McD's, there was always some really cool matchbox car or Lego toy, or Star Wars figure. Hardees had their own version of a racing team...they put out a white pick-up, a white race car, and the orange trailer you could hitch to the pick-up to pull the race car. That was the coolest! My parents went to Hardees for three weeks in a row so I could collect those things. Long gone. But, I scored a well used set on Ebay last year. I remember collecting all sorts of cool toys from these assorted kids meals. But, now the stuff they try and give our kids is crap! Plastic, cheap, confusing, worthless junk my son loses interest in by the next morning. I say McD's needs to undergo a major renovation with their Happy Meal marketing dammit! NOW!!! I am now boycotting McD's on sheer principle. Bring back toys that matter, that are innocent, that are built well, and make kids drool with anticipation for the next one. Until McD's does this, I am not taking my kid to that emporium of bad food (nuggets excluded of course), bad service, and bad toys! Anyone else with me dangit? Grab your torches and let's go burn 'em down!!! Or at least, write nasty letters exclaiming disgust and offense that our kids are taken in by their shotty knock-offs we now look at in disbelief! Call me dramatic here... That clown doesn't scare me! More later...

Happy Birthday My Brother...

How's the turkey cake up there?

Miss you...

Quiet Riot Singer Dead!

I just read this as I was logging on to check email. I cannot believe this. Quiet Riot was one of the very first metal bands that I ever obsessed about back in the sixth grade. I remember sleeping over at Jason Mackey's duplex while his Mom was working. We would crank his vinyl copy of "Metal Health" learning every word on that album. To this day, I pretty much remember all the lyrics whenever I listen to it! How many of us ever headbanged as we heard the kick and snare drum begin "Cum On Feel The Noize? Admit it...you did. Kevin DuBrow had such a distinct voice...I mean when I listened to the song "Love's A Bitch," I could hear his pain and perhaps his hate of it. Kevin's voice was so good. Strangely, I remember just moving into our new house on south hill, and I was in my room. I was actually listening to Metal Health, and I was inspired by the cover art to it. So much so, that I drew the mask from that album on my wall next to my bedroom door. Even though this was not very popular with the parents, they let me keep that drawing on the wall. That insane guy wearing the mask on the initial albums, was of course modeled after Kevin's persona. This is a terrible loss. One of the great voices of heavy metal is silenced. Awful. I cannot imagine what may have killed him...at this point it's too early to know. I know though, that the "12 year old" in me is sad that he's gone. RIP Kevin... More later...

Got a call at 4:30 this morning from the fifty-something parishioner of mine that I spoke of in my last post. She called to let me know that her "husband" C. had died at about 4:10. He took his last breath and that was it. I am relieved for her that his suffering is over finally. But, I am also so sad for her...losing her "husband" the day after they got married. I am so glad that I got to marry them both in the eyes of God and commune them. That was one of the coolest things I have ever been privileged to do. I was so honored and blown away by that whole experience. It's been very moving to be a part of this family's life in this moment. I guess I have a whole different perspective now about death and the process of grieving it as it still feels very close to me. Bram's death changed everything about grief, loss, hope, and resurrection.

With C.'s death, I feel so connected to it, that I found myself crying this morning because it's close to me; these two people opened their lives to each other and to us at church and invited us to walk with them. Both of them loved each other so much...I remember C. saying numerous times in our small group, "I love this woman here so much...she has saved my life." It's that inspiring affirmation of what his life became that makes my heart break for his wife. I think right now, she just feels a sense of relief as I think it became difficult for her to maintain his level of care that he needed, and to be strong for him, has taken a bit of an emotional toll on her. I can't imagine this has been easy at all for her. In fact, I know it hasn't been. But, for now, she is surrounded by family, friends, her church, and we who love them both as we all grieve C.'s death.

I have to share with you something so awesome. My colleague showed up at the Hospice facility this morning (I had to get to church and prepare for service as I was preaching), and he described to me what he saw. Outside of C.'s room was this huge sign that was made by the nurses who all signed it, that read in big bold letters, "Just Married!" There were massive balloons hung there and it looked amazing! When I talked to K. (C.'s "wife") last night, she mentioned to me that the nurses also made she and C. a wedding cake of sorts and even had the miniature bride and groom on top of it. I am sure that those wonderful nurses and staff do not see that happen very often in that place...a wedding for a dying person! How cool is that?

My colleague and I are invited to lead the funeral this next weekend and I am honored to do that. It will be a difficult funeral to get through, but it will nonetheless be something very moving, very closing, and very hopeful for us all I think. It will be hopeful because C. was a man of hope and he was ready to as he said to me, "meet Jesus." I only hope I can be that ready to meet him. More later...

Some things about my day so far:

1) My in-laws are here for a few days. That's good. I like when they come down and see us. This year's Thanksgiving was just between my wife, me, and my son. It was a quiet gathering of just us. But, it was all good. Watched my beloved Packers kick the snot out of Detroit. Any surprise there? I like having family here at least to see their grandson. And, they brought some really good flatbread with them...so they can stay for a minimal charge I guess.

2) I got a call from a parishioner of mine this morning. She is a fifty-something woman engaged to a fifty-something man. They are engaged to be married...second one for both. They have grown up kids like my age. And could not be anymore in love with each other. They are cute to watch. The thing is, he is dying of inoperable lung cancer. The tumor has spread beyond anyone's expectations including his. This has been difficult to deal with as they are amazing people and basically found each other last year before he found out about all this. The phone call this morning was to inform me that he was now at the hospice care facility and that he probably is not going to live through the weekend. Went to church, grabbed by communion kit, and drove there. This is an amazing place, as it is also a very sad place. The architecture and ambiance here was very welcoming.

I found his room, and there sat this faithful fiance of his, rubbing his shoulders. Because of the pain and how the tumor has spread, he cannot lay his head down, and so he looks as if he is hunched over all the time...very uncomfortable. We sat there for a bit talking, more people showed up, and there were moments of silence. There was a discussion about how my colleague and I were asked by this guy to marry him NOW because of how little time he has, but then after has said that, he changed his mind, and thought he would wait. I mentioned that to his fiance, and she said, "Well, you are here, my friends are here, his friends are here, let's do it...let's get married in the eyes of God!" I loved that. Threw me off, but I loved that moment. It was beautiful. I prayed, they exchanged vows (well, she did, and I think he said what he had to say, but on the inside as he can't really talk). She kissed him on the head and that was that. We had communion, and said some prayers, and then had some time to just be together. It was amazing. I even met this guys three "brothers" best friends for thirty some years. They told stories and joked about this guy...I am sure he would have added to this session if he could've. Made me think of my three best friends...one of whom also died recently. It's weird to see that again from a point of view that you know the severity of the pain of loss, but then to know the bond those guys share too is all too familiar and close to me.

As I was leaving the building, I noticed a van pulled up with its back door open. I then looked left of that, and there was the body of someone who had recently died, draped with a quilt. The nurses stood there, some cried, and they let the funeral director put the body in the van. I stood and watched this from an entrance as I was about to leave. I don't know if I could work in the place like that, with so much death around. I mean, this is a place that allows death to happen as peacefully as possible, yet the horrible realization is that that's all they do there...is allow death to happen. Strangely, I have thought about becoming a chaplain...at least I know the ministry I do matters in that line of work. Conversely, I know that when I am with a family and their dying loved one, it takes this strange emotional toll on me. It's tiring yes, but I have learned to just separate it from me somehow. It's not easy. And as I write this, I am aware of the fact that I may have find some sort of strength to go back and be there as he takes his final breath. That would be alright...I know that the pain he's in now is no way to live, and that he needs to be relieved of his suffering. You know it's bad when not even a stiff shot of morphine cannot curb the pain anymore. We'll see if he goes soon...

3) On a lighter note, I am listening to one of my favorite music groups that I have only recently gotten into. They sound like a cross between Tool with Pink Floyd. They play heavy one second and then play this layered beautiful trippy music that is so good. They are called Porcupine Tree. This CD that I am listening to now is titled, "Coma Divine: Recorded Live In Rome." Amazing mix of their more atmospheric and rock in this live concert. All of these guys are intelligent players and are incredibly tight. Definitely check these guys out. "The Sky Moves Sideways" is also really cool....very spacey and relaxing. More later...

Sermon DONE! As of 3PM today, I put the final period down! Check out our church website at www.stjohnsoregonwi.org next week to listen to it. Trust me, I am no Billy Graham, but then again, he is no ME! More later...

I went to our local food emporium this morning to get last minute items needed for the big feast this afternoon. Important items like condensed evaporated milk so that my favorite pie could be assembled...can anything top banana cream pie? Anyway, I noticed that the store was packed full of other guys doing what I was doing...buying last minute items their wives told them to go get. I paid for all that. Drove my cart towards the exit. The exit is two doors side by side, this sort of airlock, and then another side by side double doors. In that "airlock" is a bulletin board where people from the community put their postings, job offers, babysitting numbers, lost dog posters, and any other assorted attention getter.

As I made my way through this, I noticed a picture that got my attention. There on top of all the other outdated pieces of paper, was a picture of a turkey. Above it read the caption, "got tofu?" And on the bottom of it read, "save a turkey!" Now, I tend not to get my big boy pants in a bunch about these sort of animal rights freakezoids who try to change my mind about the ethics of co-habitation with animals and their doomed fate of ending up on my dinner table! That said, I thought to myself that most red blooded American people, especially on this day, are going to eat of the sacred bird because it is oh so good. Unless of course, you are a raging vegetarian, and think that tofurkey is more appetizing! Why if they are so good, would I want to save just one? I want to eat one! And, can someone tell me what do turkeys have to live for anyway? Not that I am a cruel inhumane jerk who believes we are superior to them (perhaps we are), but what the hell do turkeys do, how do they live, do they have a health care plan or a 401K that helps them retire into the twilight of their lives comfortably? What would I be saving a turkey for? My own conscience?

I think they are meant to be eaten well just as the billions of chickens that are alive at this moment. They will eventually end up cooked or grilled to fill appetites all over the world. Both birds are yummy and quite healthy for us. I would much rather chomp into the sacred beloved turkey than suffer the dripping, wet mass of indescribable taste and horrible digestion of tofu! This would make me violently ill and would require a stomach pump at once! God bless the turkey...and the succulence it exists for. Ahhhh! Is there anything better than a bit of cooked turkey skin drenched in butter piled atop a mass of future sandwich meat? Well, maybe Gino's East pan pizza in Chicago... But that's a whole other post! Happy Eating Turkey Day people! Screw Tofu! More later...

Today, I was on kid patrol so I had to watch the boychild as my wife was teaching today. I forgot how much he is a typical three and I am an old thirty-three. We tend not to watch the same TV shows religiously. He wins the fight since I do not want his air raid siren cranking volume in my ears. But here are some things that I noticed today that I find a bit disturbing about his shows. Bear this in mind if your child is obsessed with these programs.

1) What is up with the Doodlebops? I cannot stand this show...the show follows the same pattern everytime. They all sit in their playhouse, Mo pulls the rope, the large and in charge lady comes out, there is some kind of issue, they hop on their school type tour bus which inevitably flies or is rocket powered...and the busdriver is some overweight hippy. They get to their mock concert where throngs of kids sing along and of course the bops dance around and fake playing their instruments really badly. I have been disturbed by this show since I first saw it. There is no creativity...none! Really bad Canadian actors trying to be way too happy is not my idea of entertainment. I have a theory too. I truly believe that Rooney is totally gay, and the other two are in denial about it. Am I wrong people?

2) Lazytown is by far the most annoying show I have ever seen...well, besides Max and Ruby! I am not sure about the puppets...they freak me out...kind of like when I was a kid and I would watch HR Puffinstuff on Saturday mornings, and be weirded out by Witchiepoo. Same thing. What I loathe about this show is that they use this really bad Euro-disco music throughout the show to make it enjoyable and danceable for the kids. I get this. But, I feel like I am sipping watered down vodka sours on Thursday nights at the T during the fall of 1995 whenever I hear that damn music...same stuff that I was subjected to then. Course Lazytown is made in Iceland, and I tend to think that Europeans think their disco is by far actually, listenable! Uh, might I remind them of Eiffel 65...that was so ten years ago and even then, it was BAD! The producers need to take note...stop with the bad music, and hire Paul Van Dyk to make music for your show. Now I would not only watch this show, but I would buy the soundtrack if PVD was the DJ! I would even explore the possibilities of making the anti-hero, Robbie Rotten become some sort of serial maniac puppet killer...that would suffice.

3) I was watching Spongebob Squarepants and I gotta admit, I love this show. It has so much humor packed into it for both kids and adults. But today I noticed something that I thought might have been strangely subversive about Squidword. The episode had Squid fired from the Krusty Krab and of course, Spongebob takes him in and looks after him until he thinks, Squid will have the confidence to look for another job. It gets to the point that Squid has overstayed his welcome and Spongebob is ticked. Squid calls for Spongebob to bring him his lemonade, comes into the bedroom with it, but Squid says to Spongebob, "Where is your uniform?" Spongebob slinks backwards and comes back into the bedroom with a French maid outfit on, ultimately revealing that there is no back covering to the uniform, so we do indeed see his underwear! Now, is there something about that scene that I find strange? Why not dress Spongebob up in a bear suit, or even Mermaid Man, but really, a French Maid? I think that Squidword is really into the master and servant psycho-sexual dynamic he wishes he could share with Spongebob. But, Spongebob is too busy with Patrick being his best friend and so Squidword lives in misery with his clarinet, dead-end job, sudsy baths, and bad facial cream!

Keep in mind this is how my own mind works as I endure children's programming. I just sat there and laughed about how my mind was receiving what I was watching. I had nothing better to do today either, well, except finish my sermon (see previous post), and get ready for our ecumenical Thanksgiving service at the local Catholic church tonight. Very cool experience. I think by the time that rolled around tonight, my mind was in a far better place... Now, I need a Tylenol and a tea. More later...

There are sometimes that I wish there was no such thing as a sermon. I love to be able to preach, but I have found that when I got nothin', when the mental tank is empty, it's difficult to actually say anything that remotely feels or sounds like, in a set period of time, words that are meant to uplift, empower, and/or challenge. I have not always been one to not have anything to say. But, at this moment, I feel like my life is has been moving so fast, and has accelerated to light speed this past week, that I have not actually had time to reflect on how I can even use a moment of my life as an example in this upcoming sermon I am to preach this weekend. SO, I got nothing.

For example, in the church year, this upcoming weekend is known as "Christ the King" weekend. It's basically a time in which we are told once a year just how Christ is the king of the world, as opposed to Jack extending his arms out on a doomed ship's nose. And so, in order to somewhat challenge me and to forgo the sheer boredom of this weekend (don't shoot...it's just my opinion), I chose to preach on the New Testament lesson from Colossians 1:11-20. The first four verses in this group do not add anything to the overall story, so I chose 15-20 instead. I have read the first chapter of Colossians since seminary and have never really grasped its full meaning. Try reading anything in Arabic, and you will know what I mean. And now, I am choosing to preach on six verses and it's almost driving me to drink...alot (strange dichotomy of wanting to drink and wanting to write a sermon).

At this point, I have written around eight pages and I have still not arrived at a point where I can begin to wrap it up...not that I am saying too much, but because I don't know where to go next. UGH! You know, it's like trying to write some kind of serious extemporaneous speech for high school senior English EVERY WEEKEND! I have found that when a sermon bombs, it bombs badly. There really is no sermon that is so-so. It either really holds together and is solid. OR, it is really painful to speak and to hear. Let me tell ya, there is no sensation in the world like when a sermon is falling flat and you know it. I just shrug my head and think I did the best I could. So, if any of you theologians, agnostics, or even atheists want to give me a hand at this awfully thick biblical text, by all means and under the grace of Kierkegaard himself, may it be preached with zero knowledge of how the hell to do so. Can you tell I am banging my head against the sacristy closet door on this one? Although, the sacristy holds the communion wine, so maybe a drink or two... Nah, I get my own big chalice full during church. I will wait 'til then after I have preached this doosy! More later...

I am really, really liking this new offering from Queensryche called "Take Cover." They basically covered a bunch of tunes that they all were inspired by, or just thought may be a challenge to cover, and so they recorded them. The strangest song they covered, but by far my favorite, has got to be"Heaven On Their Minds" from the Jesus Christ Superstar soundtrack! Their versions of "Synchronicity II" and "Red Rain" are very cool! Heavy and groove oriented...this CD takes all of these songs that we know by radio airplay and just puts chunk and balls to every one of them! Definitely one of my favorite CDs to come out this year as it shows why Queensryche is by far one of the best technical, prog bands still doing what they were blessed to do. I am also using this as one of my workout CDs...it's that good! More later...

So, I have to tell you something that has perplexed me for the past day. Saturday night, I was in the bathroom attached to our bedroom, and after spending some time in there, I went to go for a drink of water. I have a plastic mug that I leave there for that wonderful refreshing quick gulp of water. This is no ordinary mug though see. This is my Texas Rangers mug that I bought when I was in Dallas because I was delusional thinking that because I was in Texas, I of course should be a Rangers supporter. God, what was I thinking? Anyway, there I was taking my mug, and I noticed that there was some water left in there from the last time I drank water. So, as I emptied the old water into the sink, what did I see come out from my mug? A mosquito!!! An actual little biting, blood sucking pest that should be long dead by now. But no! How he existed in my mug for a week or so was beyond me. Aren't mosquitoes supposed to be dead now that weather outside is cold? And if this pest made into my house, when did he enter? Had to have been a time when it was warm out, and we haven't had one of those in a while! How long has that damn mosquito been hanging around? And why did he think it was alright to breed in the confines of my cup holding my water? The nerve of that little creep! His fate you ask? He was slow to fly out and found that the wall could stop his mid-air escape, so I took my mach 3 hand and vaporized the mutha! Justice and vengeance was mine! I of course, am now freaked out to even drink out of my beloved mug, for fear that I might ingest mosquito eggs that could gestate in my stomach making me turn into one of them...trust me, I saw the movie, "The Fly!" I know what happens when bug DNA mutates with human DNA! No thanks! I am bleaching the hell out of my mug man! More later...

L to R: Derek, Me, Patrick, Bram, Travis, Phil

It's been one month since we lost you friend! I miss you and think about you everyday here. The world just doesn't seem to shine as bright anymore. You were my brother, and I will never forget that. You continue to inspire the best in me as I walk around with memories, words, and places you are. I look forward to seeing you again someday Bram. Until then, I hope you and Nietzsche enjoy the coffee and have some good philosophical chats. Miss you lots...

OK, seriously...enough with the damn Christmas commercials already. I cannot stand them. I even saw a Christmas commercial the day before Halloween this year. That is ridiculous! I know the economy right now sucks, and people are not spending the usual gratuitous amount of money they think they have, but give me a break. I love Christmas...I really do. But the stupid commercialization during this time of the year, when it may nice to think about what is important in living, is awful. It makes me vomit when I think about how retailers take advantage of the obsession our culture craves for gift buying! Not to mention that I somehow think that this is not what God had in mind when he blessed his Son with life that night. It's as if the commercialization of the holiday is saying, "Happy Birthday Jesus...thanks for making us money off selling loads of crap to the faithful!

I love the intimacy of Christmas, the need to re-evaluate my own life and how people simply become five all over again. For me, Christmas is a time of emotion, hectic schedule, and exhaustion. It's busy and this year is no exception. I don't mind though. But, Christmas makes me really all the more sensitive about how people become very greedy, very narcissistic, arrogant, and selfish! I think about how people would rather be happy than be faithful. I have heard that you can be both... But, I have also heard that "you can save money, but money can't save you." If money truly makes people happy, than I would hate to see what's really in their soul. If a person's heart is not changed by living a life that at least tries to see how generosity can change a life, then I would question their priorities.

For me, it all comes back to how retail companies fight for every last dollar they can squeeze out of the willing who scour the ads, watch the commercials, and crave the excessive giving and acquiring. I guess the almighty dollar's voice speaks the loudest for people who cannot hear the voice of God speaking up for the poor. I guess I am already tired of hearing the music, seeing the colorful blurs, and hearing the voice overs asking me to come and buy crap to make my Christmas the most meaningful. The ad above makes me sick...the manger scene with young parents, their newborn, and surrounding them is the latest in camping gear including the tent they are in... Trite and shallow imagery gets me to spend my dollars! Thanks you fat, sweaty guys who sit around all day, sucking down Dunkin' donuts, drinking bold coffee, taking amphetamines by the handful who love asking the question, "what would make me want to buy more?" Dinks! More later...

Workout Update Number One:
I woke up this morning with the best of intentions to actually use the now purchased machine of death (see previous post). And so, I got my best black T-Shirt out, pulled on some shorts, put my sneaks on, set the Ipod to Dream Theater's Systematic Chaos, programmed the treadmill, and I was off and walking!

Here are my current stats...
Minutes - 30
Calories - 134
Incline - 1.5
Miles - 1.42
Minutes per mile - 20.0
Speed - I bounced between 2.8 and 3.0

I can feel the fat sweating off! Dammit, all I want to do is to be able to fit into XL T-shirts again, and of course fitting into the regular size jeans! Plus, I want to be healthy...maybe that's why I am doing this, well, and for my son. Let's hope I can achieve some major loss! More later...

Dear God...we now own one of these! The pic is of the one we bought today, and then slowly moved it into our house. My wife and I pretty much said all the words that you are not supposed to say, but in that time period of actually unboxing it, unwrapping it, moving it from the tailgate down, moving it through the garage slowly, lifting it, er, cussing at it, lifting it again, wrangling it three times, moving it slowly through living room, allowing it to go downstairs to the family room one step at a time, and then slowly rolling it to where we could put it together, we both felt excited to try this new toy out. I hated the process though, to actually get the damn thing in my house! I figure if I go through that again, I will not need a frickin' treadmill! But, as the picture above does depict, it has a cool input for the Ipod, it actually holds my beautiful big boy body without caving in on itself, and is actually really quiet. It has a heart rate monitor on the front handles which is really cool.

I think I am going to use this because for me, I hate going to the gym to be with...uh, people. I am an introvert by design, and so for me, the last thing I want to do as I am already uncomfortable with my body anyway, is to be with a bunch of strangers who mostly look good, but who are trying to burn off that cheeseburger they had for lunch! Me, I am trying to burn off ten years worth! AND, I am already around a bunch of people by the sheer nature of my job, so I very much enjoy the moments alone...including those that I can actually use a treadmill and not worry about being too conscientious about how I look...not that I am as big as a side of beef, but that I have aged well through the wonderful world of crap I shouldn't eat.

I am looking forward to burning calories, drinking something as I go, and listening to really bad Euro-Trance music as I walk my 20 minutes a day! Wait...strike that! Maybe Trance is not such a good idea, as I may fall asleep on said treadmill and roll right off, breaking my ass in two, and forcing me to give up on its seductive tractor beam of "burn, baby, burn!" Any suggestions for music selection is greatly appreciated people...except you who breathes, eats, and sleeps country music. I shan't degrade myself in losing weight to be motivated by songs of tractors, my cousin, rifles, and beer! Seriously, don't even try to go there. Now metal on the other hand... Metal is the key to getting me healthy and of course keeping my heart beating. Try listening to any Dream Theater, Slayer, Serenity, or Queensryche song with a calm and collective pulse...I would say you are not alive at all! More later...

Song Of The Day: "Fragile" by Sting

Today, I wore my favorite black, zip up sweater. I wore it as I needed to look nice. I, along with the rest of my area clergy colleagues got our mugs shot today by the local paper as we are leading the ecumenical Thanksgiving service. I guess they want to know who we all are, or at least what our faces look like. But, as I stood there awaiting the guy to shoot, I had this overwhelming sense that I possibly look like Uncle Fester, what with the black sweater, the high neckline to said sweater, my bald head and bright personality. No, I did not have a light bulb inserted in my mouth...although that would be a cool picture in the paper! I always wanted to be Gomez anyway...as he wore the damn fine smoking jackets. More later...

Song Of The Day: "Eyes Of A Stranger" by Queensryche

I have to admit, that whoever designed these DW 9000 double pedals is a freeeeekin genius! I love to have these at my feet as I am pounding out my aggression on a Megadeth song or awakening the Holy Spirit on a worship song. Amazingly smooth, quiet, and responsive. For me, it's having the quality of something well designed, thought out, and built that actually makes me happy to play the drums! In fact, something like my "Dubs" (I know, I am not that cool to actually use this word, nor am I young enough to qualify its usage, but I gave it a shot) puts a nasty little grin on me face... It's as if perhaps, I have the same reaction as if I sip a glass of Jameson right out of a new bottle! AHHHHH! Perfection! Dang, now I am thirsty, and I am at work. Is it wrong to drink a spot of Irish Whiskey at church if you are the pastor, even though it may be 5:00 somewhere? More later...

I have been listening to Peter Gabriel ALOT lately! He has an amazing voice, the music is intelligent, and there is just something about the emotion that I sense he puts into the music that I can relate to. I feel emotional listening to him. One of the best live concerts I own on CD is his concert called "Secret World Live." So damn good!!! The eleven plus minute version of "In Your Eyes" is worth it alone! I have always wanted to see this guy live, but have not. I guess I bring this whole thing up, because Peter Gabriel makes me think of not only maybe a love of mine once, but my best friend Bram.

When I was a senior at Concordia, Bram had transferred to Moorhead State, and stayed there for a year. It was the best year I had of college. But, I remember Bram telling me about how he had heard this CD from Peter Gabriel and that I had to hear it, own it, and take it in. It was called "Passion." The music was written for the movie "The Last Temptation of Christ." So, because I was a big Peter Gabriel fan even then, I knew there wasn't much to lose, so I went to Media Play, and bought the CD. Called him up, and he came over. We were listening to it, and when the track "Passion" began to play, I noticed Bram close his eyes. And as the vocalist's voice becomes more and more emotional almost to the point of being painful, I saw Bram's eyes close tighter, it was if he could feel the pain of the vocalist singing this cry. The voice trails off and you begin to hear this undercurrent of rhythm and vocals build. I too closed my eyes then, and felt the death of Christ come through this song. Bram and I felt the music that day. We felt something beyond the music. It was if we were seeing the death of Christ together...

If there was one thing that alot of people may not have seen in Bram, it was that he was a very spiritual person. He and I had those transcendent moments that really surround and comfort the questions of why or how. I remember seeing him pray, seeing him lead worship, seeing him lead hundreds of kids in singing songs as loud as possible, seeing him take communion, sharing the roles of being Pharisees together, putting my arm around him and staring into a fire not saying a word, and seeing him close his eyes tightly while listening to a song depicting the death of Christ. Those are some of the wonderful faith-forming moments that make me thankful about what I do, and why I do it.

I love Peter Gabriel because his music takes me to a place that this world cannot touch, it doesn't understand, it fights me for, and wants to sanitize. I guess I want to hold onto that emotional innocence I feel connected with Gabriel's art. By this, I can see my life sharply contrasted by the loss of my childhood in the very death of my best friend who lived and died the same years Christ himself lived and died. I never want to lose a sense of myself because I grow old and scared to live a full life. I know Bram never lost himself to the world, to fear, to age. When I think of Bram, I think of Peter Gabriel giving the two of us the sense to feel emotion in music, in life, in spirituality. For a moment, that sense was as close to me as my blood inside. I wish I could feel that moment in its entirety once again. More later...