I'm back

Four reminders that God really loves me:

1. The cross and empty tomb of Christ
2. A wife and children worth more than all the treasures of this world
3. Starbucks Christmas Blend coffee
4. Skandinavek Cavendish pipe tobacco.
5. Spaten Optimator beer.

OK, so that's five, but who's counting?

Its eerie, it really is.

Outside, a thin layer of soot covers the vehicles in my apartment complex. The ashes have taken residence in the spider webs among the flowers. The ground is dark and everywhere you look footprints tell the story of a world that strives to keep going though disaster strikes so near.

This morning I stepped out and almost gagged. The sun made a valiant effort to break through the gray smog in the sky but only succeeded in leaving an orangish tint to light the morning. The air is thick, heavy and you can taste the remains as you breathe it in. Was it a house? A tree? Someone's photo album? Well you try to turn off those thoughts before they get out of hand.

The sounds you normally expect to hear on a Sunday morning are not there. The happy chatter outside Holy Family Catholic Church. The ping of softballs coming off aluminum bats from the park across the street. But most striking are the lack of children's voices playing outside. A family walks past you on their way to church, the mother holding a dirty wet rag to her infant's face.

The winds are not dying down, you hear the weatherman say. They won't for some time. You can forget about the humidity to help out, it's single digits again for us. They say its arson, if so then may God have mercy on the creators.

Lord, bring rain and bring it soon.

Not goodbye...but something like it.

Alas kind reader I fear that its time for a hiatus from blogging. With so much to learn and relearn in the job transition, the remaining free time that I have is scarce and needs to be focused on other precious priorities. This may or not be permanent, so if in case its the former, I wish you all the best.

Love me, my brothers, for I am infinitely superfluous, and your love
shall be like His, born neither of your need nor of my deserving, but a
plain bounty."

--C.S. Lewis, Perelandra

So here I am, it's 2:30 in the A.M. and I'm here dealing with writer's block for my paper, listening to Being There and coming off the natural high that can only come from a strenuous night of bowling.

Yes I know that I've been negligent, and yes I'm sorry. I promise I'll make it up to you *hands reader a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers*

How's my week been? Oof...awake before the sun with the wife and kiddies in order to make it to a training class at 7:30 AM. The training class consists of staring at a computer screen for eight unbearable hours through involuntary twitchy eyes that desire to stay closed and a caffeine-addled head with a brain pounding headache. On Mondays I go to class, where I sit some more until 10 PM...

I'm sorry...you didn't come here to hear the batching...how was your week? Kids good? Wife/Hubby happy? Dreams fulfilled?

Caleb's new habit is waking up at 2 AM, during on all the lights upstairs and opening and closing the bathroom door to our room forcefully while announcing his desire to go to the bathroom. I know he's not fully awake so my anger is tempered, but still...dude.

I've started to tinker with the guitar again ever since I found this site and found the tabs for a bunch of Wilco songs. So now I'm practicing my bar chords and B to E transitions and all that goodness and I've found it to be kind of therapeutic, a good way to unwind after a loooooong day.

Can you tell I'm half-awake? OK to sleep I go...more stuff to come later.

Hmmmm.

That throwaway phrase on my last comment has got me thinking: If there were such a thing as a secret handshake among Reformed believers, then what would it look like?

"I defy you devil...you sh*t."

Yes, Luther was teh kewl. While it reeked of hero worship at times (understandable since the movie was pretty much funded by a Lutheran organization), the performances were top notch. Joseph Finnes is riveting in this movie, every time he's on the screen you literally cannot take your eyes off of him. As Luther goes through his crisis of conscience at the beginning of the movie and battles with the devil throughout, Finnes seethes intensity, doubt and fear without chewing up the scenery like a game of Rampage (Hmm...was that too much? Yes it was). At any rate, halfway through the movie I found myself totally buying into his groove. As far as I was concerned, I was really watching Martin Luther...granted a prettyboy Martin Luther, but Martin Luther nonetheless.

Karly and I were all set to go see Once Upon a Time in Mexico on Friday night. I wasn't really in the mood for guns though Karly was in the mood for Depp. At any rate, as soon as we passed by the screen housing Luther, we looked at each other and decided we both were in the mood for Reformation. I felt bad afterwards that my ticket money went to Mexico rather than Luther (my first movie jump). I mean, realistically what is this movie going to make? $5-6,000? Maybe $10,000? There were a whole six people in the theater that night, if even that.

Crackup moment: One guy upon seeing the sparse crowd complained to his female companion "What's this? Does no one care about the man who revolutionized Christianity?" I chuckled, our eyes met and we gave each other a knowing nod...then we gave each other the secret Reformed handshake...just kidding, there's no secret handshake...blood oath yes, handshake no.

Yeeeah, methinks I need to go revisit the theatres this weekend.

If you are in the area of Southern California on Sunday morning and you notice that the sun is a little brighter and the dogs, cat and birds have all stopped their barking, mewing and chirping and your house uses more energy than normal, do not be afraid.

It is not the apocalypse, it is only I as I expose my doughy, neon self to the good folks at Raging Waters (Notice their motto: "XXL FUN"...truer words will never be spoken come Sep. 28). You see, Raging Waters does not allow their patrons to wear overshirts when sampling their waterslides, which means that patrons tend to see things that exist only in their wildest nightmares. Tharms, cankles, dins, cottage cheese dimples, and man-boobs. I can hardly wait.

So it has been written, so shall it be: I shall disrobe my upper torso and the world shall come and learn of me and fear me.