Tuesday is the new Monday

Aahhhrrruuuuhhhh, I don't want to be back at work today. (First evidence of this: Almost every word I've typed so far I've misspelled and have had to retype.)

Last weekend was interesting. Okay, maybe not all weekend, but let's just say that yesterday was interesting. First, my alarm clock didn't realize that it was a holiday, so it went off at 5:45 am. I quickly let it know the error of its ways, and went into a deep sleep, where I had a very vivid dream. I awoke from the dream at only 7:15, and was bummed because even if I got back to sleep, there was no chance of rejoining the dream. Somehow, though, an exception was made, and I was able to go back into that same world right where I left off. Pretty awesome.

I kind of did nothing for the rest of the morning, a little laundry is all, but when the clouds started burning off I got the urge to drive. It didn't matter where - I actually spun a pen on the dining room table to determine my direction. It pointed south, which I immediately approved of, as I had just remembered that I wanted to visit JJ's grave for the second Memorial Day in a row. (Not that I'm going to make a yearly habit of it; last year, there hadn't yet been a grave marker placed, and I wondered what it looked like. I'll probably never go back now, because he's not really there anyway.)

By this time I had stirred the interest of two of my three roomies (the third was on a road trip of his own, down in Burns), so at 2:30, we set out. The body that JJ has finished using is six feet underneath the surface of Redland Pioneer Cemetery. Our route was Hwy 224 to Carver, then Springwater Rd. to Redland Rd, turning left at Lyons Rd, where the cemetery's on the corner. After taking a photo or two of the marker, which has two illustrations by his oldest sister, we backtracked Redland to Springwater, following it to Hwy 211. We then stopped in Colton for (unhealthy snack) food.

About a mile past Colton, we noticed that there was a small buildup of cars and RVs, so we slowed, thinking that it was just holiday traffic. We realized we were wrong when we saw a giant blue fireball erupting above the tree line. Electrical fire! I had never seen one, and was amazed at its furious multicolored beauty. The small line of cars ahead was clearly going nowhere, so we stopped to investigate. Of course, I was aware that there might be someone injured or even dead as a result of this fire, but at the same time, I was mesmerized by the wondrous sight of red, green, purple and pink (!) flames pulsing into the sky. And wow, the buzzing! A driver in front of us said that there had been a car accident where some guy had driven into a power pole, and that nobody had been hurt. We were early enough to get there before any emergency personnel could keep us away, but it's not like we were going to get any closer - if the pole fell any further, it'd snap the tension in the lines and send them flying in all directions. Suddenly, the sci-fi-like flames and the buzzing stopped - the power had been cut - and we turned around and left. Hopefully, the couple of pictures I took will show the strangeness of it all.

After taking a couple of off-highway connecting roads (including one actually named Dhooghie Rd.) we drove into Molalla, or as we put it, Molallapalooza, where we connected with Hwy 213, and turned south. A few miles later we were in Silverton, the only local town I know of that has a yearly weekend festival in honor of a cartoonist. Our destination was Silver Falls State Park, which is about 14 miles south. My, my, it was crowded.

As we searched for a parking spot, we passed by two parked buses, one of which was adorned with the most colorful hippie custom paint job I have ever seen. Bow to stern, not one square inch was left undecorated. There was even an airplane propeller bolted to the grill. If it hadn't been parked under the trees, I would have had enough light to shoot some pictures. We found a spot, walked the South Falls loop path and glanced over at tiny Frenchie Falls, then made our way back to the parking lot. I think we were more intrigued by the hippie bus than the majestic waterfall. We had seen some hippies handing out literature throughout the park, and didn't realize that there were a few left over by the buses. I don't think I knew what to do when a guy invited us on bored. I remember thinking (and I maybe mumbled) that I hoped we wouldn't get a contact high. Turns out I was wrong.

A man by the name of Malachi welcomed us into the bus. Most of the interior was exquisitely wood-paneled, including the dashboard. As expected, the original seats had been removed, replaced with long bench seats that we were told expanded into bunk beds (it wasn't demonstrated, and I couldn't puzzle out how they folded out). That and the other bus were sleeping nine people each, but the capacity was twice that. Our conversation revealed that the hippies were actually a continuation of the 1970's Jesus Movement, which I am too young to remember but I understand was the Christian arm of the main hippie contingent. I could be wrong there.

The folks on the buses are on a U.S. outreach tour, and are based in Plymouth, Massachusetts, where they live in community. Theirs is one of dozens of connected communities in this country and around the world. As you can imagine, they are self-supporting, with their own farms, printing presses, mechanics and other cottage industries that serve their own needs as well as those of their neighbors. Their Brazilian community is an exporter of maté (rhymes with latte), which is a tea-like drink with rejuvenation properties. An important thing to note is that their communities are not isolated, off-the-grid compounds with barbed wire and armed guards. They live in regular towns and cities and have regular neighbors, and they've reached out and loved them so much that when they do come under criticism, it's the neighbors who are the first to defend them.

The people we talked to represented a different kind of hippie than I had imagined. I've seen a few hippies before, but most of my impression comes from the weed-smoking, free-love, victory-sign, interpretive-dancing caricatures I've been presented with all of my life. These folks were different. In some ways, they kind of reminded me of the Amish or Mennonites - maybe it was the ubiquitous beards on the men and extremely long hair and long dresses on the women, like a sort of physical requirement for being in their community. I think on that point alone I would have a hard time becoming one of them - I've grown a beard before, and it just becomes unbearable. I understand the eschewing of fashion, the lilies-of-the-field approach to physical appearance they embody, but it's almost like the beards and simple dresses are a fashion in themselves.

Anyway. The other thing that stood out was just how much they believed in Biblical principles of community. Their model is the early church - The Way - found in the book of Acts. They don't practice "religion" - that is, they're not trapped by Christian ritual and routine for the sake of ritual and routine - but as Malachi explained, "religious" to them means "reconnected with the Father", so in that regard, they embrace the "religious" life. They always meet twice a day, singing and worshipping God, and mostly everyone shares teaching responsibility. People have different strengths and talents which are utilized for the benefit of all.

I know I'm not going to sign up with them and leave my world behind...you know, the beard thing (just kidding...sort of). But I do want to keep in touch with them, and see what I can learn from their very different way of community life.

---------

We then left the Park and drove to Mt. Angel, which we thought might be bigger (because of their famous Mt. Angel Oktoberfest) but really was tiny. We ate at the Mt. Angel Brewery and went home. The end.

And why are their receipts so gigantic?

I went to Circuit City today, thinking there was a chance that there might be something I "needed" to buy. Fortunately, the only thing I bought was Moby's latest CD. But as I was walking around the store, I went by the area that had iPods and iPod accessories, and I saw something that just cracked me up.

On the table was a small, clear, acrylic square with rounded edges, the same size as an iPod, with a white plastic layer adhered to one face. Printed upon the white plastic was an image of the iPod buttons, and the following words, which I am not making up:

NON-WORKING DISPLAY MODEL

Well, no kidding. A solid chunk of clear acrylic doesn't hold 40 gigabytes of music?

Significant only to me

I'm finally chewing my last piece of Eclipse gum today. I know, I know, it's a dumb thing that doesn't mean anything, but it's like a milestone to me. I lingered upon the last piece for a couple of weeks longer than I should have, but now it's done.

Once flavorless, the gob will be spit into the garbage can. A chapter will be closed. I'm not immediately looking for another brand of gum, either. I need to just have an empty mouth for awhile.

Yes, I'm aware that this post looks utterly ridiculous, and that you might be thinking it's time for the rubber room. Well, I'm not going to talk about it any more.

Three-week-old thoughts about NDP

Well, it's a few weeks after the fact, but I just read this blog post about the National Day of Prayer that was very eye-opening and encouraging.

Thanks to Jim for newly linking to this blog, and to fredsnickname for posting it.

Hawaiian-shirted bald guy, part 2

The bald guy came back into the parking garage again today. Different Hawaiian shirt, though. I didn't have to wait behind him, though - I was walking out of the garage when he pulled in.

Again, his music was blaring; although to his credit, he wasn't listening to Bryan Adams, or even a power ballad. Today's selection was Talking Heads' "And She Was":

And she was lying in the grass
And she could hear the highway breathing
And she could see a nearby factory
She's making sure she is not dreaming
See the lights of a neighbor's house
Now she's starting to rise
Take a minute to concentrate
And she opens up her eyes

The world was moving and she was right there with it (and she was)
The world was moving she was floating above it (and she was) and she was

And she was drifting through the backyard
And she was taking off her dress
And she was moving very slowly
Rising up above the earth
Moving into the universe
Drifting this way and that
Not touching ground at all
Up above the yard

CHORUS

She was glad about it... no doubt about it
She isn't sure where she's gone
No time to think about what to tell them
No time to think about what she's done
And she was

And she was looking at herself
And things were looking like a movie
She had a pleasant elevation
She's moving out in all directions

CHORUS

Joining the world of missing persons (and she was)
Missing enough to feel alright (and she was)

*******************

Okay, Baldy, this cancels out that other piece of tommyrot you tried to get away with the other day. Better have another good one next time....

My Garden State fan

So, I wonder who it is from New Jersey who stops by here so often. Are you someone I know? I only ask because I saw that you got here by searching for "stan kost" on Google a few weeks ago.

Don't get me wrong - I'm totally thrilled that you visit! I'm just intrigued...after all, that is a pretty specific search string.

Drop me a comment, if you feel like it!

Hanging It Up: The Movie

I live in a house with three other roommates. And of course, each of us has our weekly laundry needs, which we can handle easily, because we have a washer and a dryer right in the house. Now, in many families, everyone's laundry gets washed together, then sorted out and distributed when clean. In a house of four guys, naturally we'd never do this; it's just too weird. So the machines are running about four or five days out of every week.

There's a wooden bar in the laundry room, just like one in my closet, running from wall to wall next to the dryer. Since I hate ironing, the key to having (mostly) wrinkle-free shirts and pants, aside from choosing the right kind of fabric when buying said clothes, is to hang them one at a time immediately upon removing them from the dryer. Open dryer, pull out one shirt, close dryer, restart dryer, hang shirt. Inevitably there are hangers left over after doing this, and they just stay hung on the bar until next time they're needed.

One thing we will inadvertently share is our clothes hangers - each of us has happened to buy different color hangers at one point or another, and we know when we're using someone else's. Nobody seems to mind, because we'd rather use the ones that are hung there than go all the way back to our bedrooms to get our own.

I was thinking about this today as I was hanging up a couple of empty hangers belonging to someone else, and I got this thought: Could there be a day when we all come together with all of our unused hangers, and resort them according to owner? The Great Hanger Reconciliation of 2005, it'd be called. Each of us walking to the common area of the house loaded with armfuls of wire and plastic, nary a word spoken, cold stares, inaudible grunts of disdain. The music, the drama, the tension! Tossing the pilfered hangers into a heap, tangled and gnarly like a pile of discarded willow branches. Each man allowed to retrieve his possessions according to his chosen tribal colors, and retreating to his bedroom to realign them on his closet's crossbar.

This would make a great short film. I know it.

And when you find me there you'll search no more

So as I'm pulling in to the parking garage this morning, I have to wait in line because someone's in front of me paying the attendant. It was a convertible, not sure what make of car (Acura, maybe?), and it was driven by a middle-aged, mostly bald man wearing a Hawaiian shirt. Now, I have a monthly parking pass, so I don't need to wait to pay, so I just followed the convertible right around the corner. I heard loud music coming from the car. He pulled into a slot, and I drove past him to find another one - and I was able to recognize the song he was obviously enjoying at a high decibel level (he had turned it back up after paying the attendant).

It was Bryan Adams' power ballad "(Everything I Do) I Do It For You". A song which I liked exactly twice when it first hit radio in 1991, then slowly despised as it became grossly overplayed. A song which I never actually need to hear with my ears in order to be able to play in my mind from beginning to end. A song which is now stuck in my head as of this writing.

Stupid Hawaiian shirted bald guy.

May as well be National Eat-Your-Own-Snot Day

Everybody get ready. Because tomorrow, May 24, is National Escargot Day.

I have never tried escargot, nor do I ever plan to, because the thought of eating a once-slimy snail, no matter how it may be "prepared", is about as repulsive as it gets for me.

Why on earth a group of people would create a National Day for this probably-disgusting dish I can probably understand, chalking it up to being one of those foreign-culture things that I find odd...vive la difference. However, that these people would go so far as to create National Escargot Day greeting cards is one of the Perplexing Mysteries of the Known Universe that I hope will be explained to me when I get to my Heavenly Home.

It's Jim!

I want to call your attention to a blog by a pretty funny guy named Jim. Jim _____, I either don't know or don't remember. Let's call him Jim Bracklespear, for grins and giggles.

Jim Bracklespear's blog is a bunch of short bursts of thought, always insightful, funny, clever, or a combination of the three. He's a frequent McDonald's customer, so much so that they know him by name. And he's dyslexic, as his most recent posts explain. He's got a pretty good idea for traffic reduction on a well-used St. Louis bridge, too.

I found It's Jim on a blog directory called Blogarama, in their For Laughs section.

Don't tell him that I named him Bracklespear...I'm hoping for a link back to here.

The show *oof* must *ouch* go on

This is so incredibly funny. It's a short video of a guy who attemps to do a backflip while holding his nunchucks, when things don't quite work out.

Click here for the visual aid.

The best and funniest part about this is the guy's utter determination to continue with his performance despite his momumental setbacks. Bravo, Nunchuck Tumbler Man. Bravo.

I haven't found 'Lost' yet

I have been keenly interested in the show "Lost" for a while now, but I haven't seen an episode yet. I have heard and read little tidbits about it, about how there are possibly cryptic elements to the show, à la "The X-Files". I don't know if that's true, but when I keep reading words like "secrets" and "rumors" in connection with the show, it tells me that it's a big story that's unfolding a little at a time. Sounds intriguing.

Before the show premiered, I thought that it'd be kind of a cool show to watch, but then I forgot about it for the first couple of weeks. Then I started occasionally going to Wednesday night services at East Hill Church, causing me to miss more episodes. By that point I had started getting the impression that it's a better show when watched from the beginning - like "24" was - so I've purposely avoided it since.

It's a good thing we live in the age of TV Shows On DVD. Newer, popular shows get released during the summer rerun season in order to bring new viewers (like me) up to speed before the next season starts. "Lost" Season 1 looks to sell for between $39 (Amazon pre-sell) and $60, which is far too much for me to pay for an untested show, so I'll rent it, a few episodes at a time. Maybe I'll sign up for Netflix to avoid out-of-stock discs at the video store.

They're so Krafty!

Well, isn't this interesting. Kraft Foods now sells their mayonnaise in a wide-mouth jar.

Now I can conveniently dunk my entire baloney sandwich in it without making a mess.

A little cross-promotion

I think it's a good time to invite you to check out my other two blogs (links open up in a new window):

Getaway Banjo Music (GBM News): When We Think There's News, We Write It. Folks, it's fake news, plain and simple. And funny, hopefully.

New today:
almost-daily doodl: Like the title says, it's just some scribbles that I'll be uploading about every day. Not sure what all it'll look like yet. And yes, it's intentionally spelled doodl. :)

A big winner?

So last weekend I went to the beach. I was able to leave work a bit early on Friday, since the main database system had basically shut down leaving me with virtually nothing to do. This allowed me to run downtown earlier than usual to get a paycheck, and escape virtually all of the outbound Friday traffic. Since I had planned on leaving work at 5, I had everything packed and ready to go in the car; even with three more hours given to me, I didn't need to go back home to get anything else (although, whoops, I had forgotten to bring a jacket).

On the way down Highway 99W, I saw a billboard for Powerball that proclaimed the current jackpot at $111 million. I began to imagine that I was the winning ticket holder, and that I had just taken it to Salem to redeem it. So what would I do with all of that money, assuming it is not paid out in an annuity (which it probably is, but this is fantasy-land, get it?)?

The first thing I know I'd do (planning-wise) is to set aside 10% of the winnings to give to the church. Since this is all hypothetical, I've decided not to wrestle with the spiritual issues involved with giving gambling profits to the Lord. I'd just do the quick math: 10% of $111 million is $11.1 million. Now, I know that I could be calculating the tithe based upon after-tax winnings, but I believe that I've covered that issue already in a previous post; I'm not going to cheat God by giving Him the bare minimum tithe He asks for. I have also decided that the church I have been attending would not be the sole recipient of my tithe, in this case. There is another, small church in Portland that was very influential in making me who I am today, and even though I haven't been there in ten years or more (I keep meaning to visit there one Sunday evening - I miss my cousin and his family), I still think of them fondly. So I'd split the cash this way: Current church would get $9 mil, other one would get $2.1 mil (which should ensure that their doors never close due to money).

Naturally, I'd have to have a meeting with the pastors and elders of each church in advance of the tithing, for several reasons. First of all, they'd need to be aware that there's an overwhelmingly large tithe coming in, and that the money is real and legal. (It took me a while to realize that one could perceive this sudden cash influx as an attempt to launder bad money.) Second of all, even though I'd be making myself known to them as the donor, I'd need to get everyone's assurance that this tithe would need to remain as anonymous as is humanly possible. I would even go so far as to request that this be placed in an account separate from the general fund, in order to protect everyone. Because think about it: If people in the congregation got wind of a $9 million increase in general funds, how many people would be tempted to stop their own tithing? I wouldn't want to be responsible for that. So I would want some sort of arrangement whereby a certain modest(-ish) amount can be transferred to the general fund, like $200 per week, as my weekly "tithe", then whatever would be needed to cover any budget shortfalls would of course be met by the special fund. Maybe the remainder could be used for special projects, like new building/repair projects, or meeting missionaries' support deficits, or sending teams out on short-term missions.

This is not to say that I wouldn't trust the elders of my church to make sound, Spirit-led decisions with that kind of money (remember that this is all hypothetical anyway, and will never, ever happen in real life); I'd actually place my full trust in them. This would just be a suggested method of handling such a huge, one-time increase in funds. And I thought about this all the way to Willamina.

Secondly (I'm only on the second thing?), I would pay off all of my debt. This kind of goes without saying, I guess. My current debt is miniscule, by hypothetical Powerball-winner standards, but it's nothing to sneeze at in the real world. Removing that burden would be wonderful.

Third, I would give myself a certain allowance for the first year, as a sort of cooling-off period. No major purchases. No wild investments. I would purchase a good car, or truck, or SUV, that I could rely upon in the course of the several road trips I would want to take, and I would buy a second car, probably a gas-electric hybrid, for city driving. Just because I have the loot, doesn't mean I can pollute! Aside from the car purchases (and insurance), I might take all of my friends out for a really fancy dinner somewhere once, and maybe buy myself a nice suit or something, but that would be the extent of my indulgences. I would buy myself a lifetime health club membership. Then, I would give myself about $40,000 - or less - to live upon for the first year, plus whatever I would require for college tuition. Oh yes, I'm back in the classroom as soon as I can get in there! Because the sooner I could get trained in something, the sooner I could use that skill for the Lord's work - wherever I am called. And with a jillion dollars in my back pocket, I wouldn't have any trouble getting there.

Fourth (and I'm not sure exactly why this is fourth, but this is how I tracked it on Friday), I would give money to each of my immediate family members as needed. My mom would get enough money to relieve her from needing the death benefit she currently receives, so that she and her husband could be legally married in the eyes of the State. My sister would get enough to cover all of whatever debts she has (if she has any - I've never asked her about this), as well as a good amount to be able to help cover the raising of her daughter. She would also receive more than enough money to cover living expenses and tuition for wherever she may want to go to college. My niece would also receive this amount in a tuition/trust fund.

My dad would also receive enough money to live on for the rest of his life, so that he wouldn't have to work anymore if he doesn't want to. I'd pay for a lifetime health membership, and a smoking-cessation program. And I'd buy him a newer car than the thing he currently drags around town. :)

I didn't really work out how I would begin to help out any non-family friends, because there are always the horror stories of people coming out of the woodwork and leeching onto big-money winners. I only know for certain that my best friend would find a great deal of relief in his situation, and that he could look upon his, and his kids', future with hope that expenses would be met. I'm sure that he has dreams of all four kids going to college; I would definitely want to help that become a reality. Not to shoulder the whole burden, mind you - I wouldn't want to diminish his role as provider in any way - but as a way to stand in the gap, for darned sure....

At this point in my scenario's execution, I had just arrived in Otis, just a rock's throw inland from the 101, and I put this whole line of thinking to rest. It was a good exercise in prioritizing, I think, but it was time to move on. I had some black molasses bread to buy.

Open

Open to the world
Open to spirit
Open to the changing wind
Open to touch
Open to the world within
Open to change
Open to adventure
Open to the new
Open to love
Open to miracles
Open beloved to You

Open to learn
Open to laughter
Open to being blessed
Open to joy
Open to service
Open to saying "yes"
Open to risk
Open to passion
To peace and silence too
Open to love
Open to beauty
Open beloved to You

-Mike Scott

For Mom & Con

Here's a comic that updated today, called "White Ninja and the Geologist". Since Con is a retired geologist, I figured that he might like this one.

Things to do

A sampling of the many things that you, Stan, need to do:

• Buy a small (like, 6-inch) fan for your desk at work.
• Install new wiper blades on your black Subaru. Come on, it's been 6 weeks since you bought them.
• Change the oil in the black Subaru, too.
• Once you get the money for it, there are about five things you need to do to fix the red Subaru. Some of which have been needing repair for four years or more.
• Adjust the brakes on your bicycle, and fix the flat tires. It's time to ride.
• Actually, put some money away for a new street-friendly bike, since you know you'd be riding on pavement all of the time anyway. Barring that, buy some new non-knobby tires for the bike you have. Oh yeah, maybe a helmet, too.
• Take your cotton shirts to the dry cleaner, and have them cleaned and pressed. Honestly, why didn't you check the fabric before you bought them? You know that you can't stand ironing.
• Clean out all of the crap that's been building up in your room. There's just a lot of things that don't belong there, 90% of which can be tossed. Remember when you first moved in, and you had little places for everything? When people came over, and you didn't immediately shut your door out of embarrassment? Yeah, go back to that.
• Raise the bed up just a little higher, that way you can stow your dirty laundry baskets underneath and out of the way.
• While I'm on the subject, get up there in the attic and weed out all of the useless things that take up space there. Haven't opened a box in a year? It's gone.
• Hike up Saddle Mountain. On a sunny day. It's got to be better than last year's sideways-rain, no-discernible-view-of-anything-but-clouds ascent. Although admit it, you were in good company!
• Climb Beacon Rock. After all these years of wanting to, go out and do it. Even if you get to the top and it sucks, at least you did it.
• Make a point to go to Powell Butte more often. Bike or walk, just go explore the place.
• Go camping. Even if it means driving up to Kingfisher and sleeping in the car.
• Get a real haircut for a change, instead of the usual buzz-cut-over-the-bathtub routine.
• Make a dang decision about your comic strip. Are you ever going to continue it? If so, sit down and get drawing. If not, then you need to explain exactly why you are not going to see the storyline through to its eventual end. You owe it to Eddie, at least, since he's been giving you your server space for nothing.
• If you quit the comic, and pull your files off of the server, you'll need to secure some other server space to hold your images. For this blog, and GBM.
• Redo that ink drawing with the circles and the Tozer quote. And throw the other one away.
• Stop stalling! Finish those packs of Eclipse gum, so you can move on. What strange timetables you adhere to.
• Buy the following CDs:
  1. Claire Holley - Dandelion
  2. The Waiting - Wonderfully Made
• Move most of the "winter" clothes into storage; pull out some more of the "summer" clothes. And once again, weed out the clothes you don't need anymore.
• Ask about Cancún; find out when to buy plane tickets (if the plans are a go), and see if you have enough bread for a December trip.
• Get into your computer and see if the master/slave settings are backwards on the DVD drives. If they're okay, then you have to get the right drivers so the thing will recognize the burner for what it is. It's a pain to have to hook up and start the old computer just to burn CDs.

Funny food review site

Short post today.

For the other blog, Getaway Banjo Music ("When We Think There's News, We Write It"), I was trying to think of a funny way to mix a movie review with that of something totally unrelated, like chocolate pudding, and I needed some sort of inspiration. Googling "food reviews" returned this gem of a website:

McSweeney's Internet Tendency: Reviews of New Food

This is not a depository of bland food critiques; no, the contributors to this site are a lively, eloquent bunch, not shying away from how they really feel about the food products they are reviewing. Some of this stuff's quite hilarious.

Examples:

Coca-Cola with Lime - "On my mother's grave, I swear, you might as well just give me a glass of Pine-Sol for all the epicurean enjoyment this citrus-flavored swill is going to provide me."

CornNuts - "CornNuts, crunchy like barnacles, age well, for which many, many preservatives are to thank. That I sometimes forget I'm not eating soft teeth is interesting, and hardly a deterrent."

Ice Breakers Liquid Ice Mints - "If all liquid ice—or 'water' to us laypeople—tasted like this, then the world would have died of dehydration long ago."

Warning: As to be expected with scathing reviews, a little bit of the language is rated PG-13.

Release life and you gain it (3po soul)

Soul-Junk - 3po Soul
[1956]

That's the song that's on my mind right at this very second. Specifically, the end section, where the computerized voice repeats:

Hold your life and lose it
Release life and you gain it
You grip too tight, it slips, right?
So let it go

So simple, yet so true.

Matthew 16:24-26
Then Jesus said to his disciples, "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it. What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul?"

Philippians 1:21
For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.

The road is calling!

OH MY GOODNESS, I am jonesing for a road trip. Not just a day's drive in the country around my hometown - I mean one of those long trips that cross several state lines; stopping at truck stops at 3 a.m.; sleeping in a motel, tent or the car; listening to the same CD 25 times with the window down so I can't hear it anyway; stopping in small towns to watch 20 minutes of a baseball game; the food, the traffic, the sun. I need that right now. I crave it.

Funny thing is, when I had a bunch of "time off" (read: unemployment), I didn't have the resources to make a trip like that happen. Even if I did, the weather was crappy most of the time. Not to mention that I needed to be ready to report to work or an interview in short order. And now that I'm back to full-time (if still temp) work, and the weather's slowly getting better, I'm sitting here wishing I had a week off.

Last year's trip was a great one. I flew into Kansas City to meet my friend Aron, who was transporting a huge load of family belongings from Chicago to Portland. He basically needed a second driver, as well as a traveling companion in lieu of his then-pregnant wife, Yvonne. The drive took place over the 4th of July weekend, and it was HOT most of the time. We drove a heavily-burdened vehicle that was in constant overheat (as well as constant uphill - the whole state of Kansas is one solid upgrade) so that meant driving 45 mph WITH THE HEAT ON.

But you know what? That was the only real misery of the trip. There were so many good parts of the trip that completely overshadowed the negative. We watched DVDs on a laptop (yes, while driving...I know it's unsafe). We saw the most spectacular fireworks show ever - because it was trumped by the symphony of lightning in every direction. We felt the cool Kansas breeze at 11:00 pm while munching on beef jerky at a lonely gas station. We saw the beauty of the Rocky Mountains, both uphill and downhill. I got to meet a cartoonist friend in Boise whom I'd only spoken with online, and share quesadillas at the House of Hexagon at 1 am. We saw the sweeping splendor of northeastern Oregon from the top of Cabbage Hill, and felt the thrill as the freeway joined the mighty Columbia River. And we visited my mom in The Dalles and enjoyed the conversation.

That's the good stuff. That's what I want to do again. I just don't know when I'll get the chance now.