The best fortune cookie I ever received said simply:
“Your kindness to small animals will soon be rewarded.”
And I thought to myself after reading it:
“Its about time!”
....it stayed in my wallet for 5 years.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Lent
So to honor the season and give a nod to tradition I have decided to list the things I have given up for Lent. They are listed in no particular order.
Coffee and tea
Milk with my cereal
Condiments
Chocolate cake and brownies
Gushers
Smoked Salmon
Public Speaking
Fruit
Self-help books
Tapioca and related gelatin or pudding foodstuffs
Smoking
Reality TV shows
Hummus
Precise spelling
Using the treadmill
Optimism
Coffee and tea
Milk with my cereal
Condiments
Chocolate cake and brownies
Gushers
Smoked Salmon
Public Speaking
Fruit
Self-help books
Tapioca and related gelatin or pudding foodstuffs
Smoking
Reality TV shows
Hummus
Precise spelling
Using the treadmill
Optimism
Thursday, February 26, 2009
I am on the mend. At least now I can say that I am trying.
My summer has now taken form and been graced by the first significantly good news of the year. First of all the cyst I had developed and had mild surgical treatment for has healed in such a way as to preclude further surgery. And after the agony of the initial work that is incredibly good news. Secondly Elaine and I will soon be able to attempt the pregnancy thing again. The hormone levels that had been worrisome are finally giving up the ghost. Also I have achieved gainful employment for the summer.
I will be looking and listening for these: Marbled Murrelet
In this: old growth forest
It is an avian survey job at the coast with provided housing and the ability to come home on the weekends. It makes me nervous every time I start a new job and when I was hired it was made very clear that I need to do very well at this job to warrant my being hired without all the experience they were looking for. At least I have a little more than a month to prepare myself as best I can before the official training and the start of the job.
It is good to have work lined up, the pressure has evaporated somewhat. The only place left to hear from is college.
I will be looking and listening for these: Marbled Murrelet
In this: old growth forestIt is an avian survey job at the coast with provided housing and the ability to come home on the weekends. It makes me nervous every time I start a new job and when I was hired it was made very clear that I need to do very well at this job to warrant my being hired without all the experience they were looking for. At least I have a little more than a month to prepare myself as best I can before the official training and the start of the job.
It is good to have work lined up, the pressure has evaporated somewhat. The only place left to hear from is college.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
The sign language of the mad
So among my Christmas gifts I received this shirt from my sister-in-law so in honor of the shirt I will post the most recent installment of “mixing with the crazies.” I should also mention that my friend Stacy received a similar shirt since she is in this story as well.
Ok so I had gone to Henry’s downtown with friends to grab a beer and after the bar closed everybody took off but Stacy and I decided we would just move to a different bar since we didn’t have anything going on and we were having a good time. We moved over to the Mcmenimans on Burnside sometime around 1 am. We grabbed a booth by the window and ordered drinks. We had been there awhile when this guy walking by outside stops outside our window gives us a huge smile, blows Stacy a kiss and begins to attempt an involved conversation with us via hand motions. Now I can tell you for sure it wasn’t sign language, there was no swiftness, no economy to the hand movements the motions were sloppy, wide, imprecise things that bore no resemblance to any common hand signals. It was as if he were attempting to elucidate Hegel’s’ notion of freedom using interpretative hand gestures periodically thanking us the audience by blowing the odd kiss. We stared at him blankly, completely lost and he, feeling that his point had been made, he gave us one last smile a nod as if to say “there you understand, I knew you would” and turned and continued down the street. That by itself would make a convincing argument that we deserve those shirts but wait...it gets better.
About 30 to 40 minutes latter a guy who had been sitting with his back to us at the bar got up and shambled somewhat unsteadily out the door and proceeded up the street. When he got level with our window he stopped and looked in at us and broke into a huge completely inexplicable beaming smile. His hands flew together and then apart towards us in a motion that looked something like he was trying to make shadow puppet doves and spoke of him being stirred by some great and completely unfathomable emotion. We stared at him blankly in shock that it was happening again and he blearily began his own hopelessly obtuse instructive lesson. Like the other guy even though we gave him no encouragement he never repeated a single hand motion to him apparently we were totally on the same page. He too talked at us for awhile and then with a final hand gesture and beaming smile walked on down the road. I to this day have no clue what they thought they were saying. But hey what can you do. It’s just one more night with the crazies.
I think part of it is Stacy and I both on our own attract nuts so with our forces combined we were a magnet that would suffer no crazy person to pass us by without paying homage.
wow thats a unflattering picture
Decision to decisions are made
People sometimes ask me what I am up to and I never have an adequate response. What I am doing right now is waiting. Waiting to hear back from the colleges I have applied to. Waiting to hear back from the jobs I have applied for already and applying to more as I find them. But what I am doing at the moment isn’t much. I clean the house, fold the laundry, clean the kitchen and just am all around domestic. Soon I should have a clear picture of what it’s all going to be. Until then I play Magic at the card shop on Thursday nights, play D&D on Saturdays when the option is open and hang out with Elaine when she isn’t working.
......................Oh and I add more flair then I need to me cork board of face book. It’s the lazy person’s way of doing a profile. Rather than typing in your favorite shows and objects of interest you simply slap a button on cork and let people figure out for themselves what it means.
Having thought about it I would describe the online personal sites thusly:
Facebook: It is the big party you go to. It’s crowded and loud and you can forget trying to communicate in anything more than fragments of conversation but everybody is there.
MySpace: It was the big party until better parties started and now everybody has pretty much left. It was the quieter party with lounge music where you could say a lot if you took the time.
BlogSpot: It’s driving alone in your car listening to music and letting your mind wander. Or if you prefer its like writing a journal that you insist your friends read.
......................Oh and I add more flair then I need to me cork board of face book. It’s the lazy person’s way of doing a profile. Rather than typing in your favorite shows and objects of interest you simply slap a button on cork and let people figure out for themselves what it means.
Having thought about it I would describe the online personal sites thusly:
Facebook: It is the big party you go to. It’s crowded and loud and you can forget trying to communicate in anything more than fragments of conversation but everybody is there.
MySpace: It was the big party until better parties started and now everybody has pretty much left. It was the quieter party with lounge music where you could say a lot if you took the time.
BlogSpot: It’s driving alone in your car listening to music and letting your mind wander. Or if you prefer its like writing a journal that you insist your friends read.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Since I can't seem to post the flair anywhere else
I just signed on to Face book………..it has so far engendered only frustration and rage. The interface is horrible and unwieldy personalizing is a hopeless mess…..sure you can find anyone but so far I can’t seem to do anything to the page but add occasional updates of the “Jeff is…” nature that only document my growing disgust.
In the midst of this I realized one of my pet peeves…people using pictures of their kids as their profile pictures. Nothing is more annoying than pulling up a profile for a recent college graduate and seeing the picture of a four year old chasing a butterfly. If you weren’t sure if you knew the person by name only then too bad. Never mind that the person is named Daniel and listed as guy though the picture is of a little girl in a pinafore seriously people put those pictures in your album section….it isn’t your kids profile…I know this because I can guarantee that your five year olds favorite movie of all time is not Love in the Time of Cholera.
Ask the spacebaby
I am at somewhat of a loss figuring out what has happened since I blogged last. Well I guess I’ll summarize as best as I can even if the substance behind the remembrances is lost. I have been reading Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad and I found a set of lines that perfectly encapsulates this.
“…No, it is impossible; it is impossible to convey the life-sensation of any given epoch of one’s existence – that which makes its truth, its meaning – its subtle and penetrating essence. It is impossible. We live, as we dream – alone…”
The idea has been on my mind of late driving alone in my car at sundown when the horizon puts on subtle pastels and jet contrails look like brushes drawn across the sky and you know that even as it passes before your eyes it will fade from your memory with no way to hold it or share it with anyone else.
Well anyway…so Christmas was pretty good this year. Elaine and I did the family circuit, which put me in mind of the fact that the holidays are times that we get together with our families and are reminded how much they drive us crazy, though the beer tasting party we had was fun (incidentally that proves how most anything can be exponentially better if alcohol is involved).
We went to California briefly to visit Mary and Eric which was a lot of fun. I went to a metal show with Eric which was a new experience (only time I have ever had to wear earplugs at a concert). The band was pretty good and I had a good time even if afterward when I tried to remember the songs they played I could only hear the song Jack Blacks band plays at the opening to School of Rock. We drank a lot of beer and played a ton of the game Okami. If I were to rank the top five people I enjoy getting tipsy with, spouse aside, it would have to look like this. They are arranged in an order that holds no significance.
1. Jason (Dawn’s fiancé)
2. Eric Youngdale (you made my top five…good work)
3. Greg Davis
4. Stacy (late of the St. Patrick’s Day adventure)
5. Ryan (even though it was only that once and all he did was get really tired)
Other than that I have just been applying to a few jobs and colleges. Not a whole lot to report.
“…No, it is impossible; it is impossible to convey the life-sensation of any given epoch of one’s existence – that which makes its truth, its meaning – its subtle and penetrating essence. It is impossible. We live, as we dream – alone…”
The idea has been on my mind of late driving alone in my car at sundown when the horizon puts on subtle pastels and jet contrails look like brushes drawn across the sky and you know that even as it passes before your eyes it will fade from your memory with no way to hold it or share it with anyone else.
Well anyway…so Christmas was pretty good this year. Elaine and I did the family circuit, which put me in mind of the fact that the holidays are times that we get together with our families and are reminded how much they drive us crazy, though the beer tasting party we had was fun (incidentally that proves how most anything can be exponentially better if alcohol is involved).
We went to California briefly to visit Mary and Eric which was a lot of fun. I went to a metal show with Eric which was a new experience (only time I have ever had to wear earplugs at a concert). The band was pretty good and I had a good time even if afterward when I tried to remember the songs they played I could only hear the song Jack Blacks band plays at the opening to School of Rock. We drank a lot of beer and played a ton of the game Okami. If I were to rank the top five people I enjoy getting tipsy with, spouse aside, it would have to look like this. They are arranged in an order that holds no significance.
1. Jason (Dawn’s fiancé)
2. Eric Youngdale (you made my top five…good work)
3. Greg Davis
4. Stacy (late of the St. Patrick’s Day adventure)
5. Ryan (even though it was only that once and all he did was get really tired)
Other than that I have just been applying to a few jobs and colleges. Not a whole lot to report.
Friday, December 19, 2008
maybe this is not your year
Once upon a time
When we were young
We thought we'd escape from it all
But we were wrong
Then unexpectedly
We’re in a dream
So faintly we didn’t notice
Or did we?
Enter the other side
It sounds like a lullaby
In this twilight
We are pale
On this frail side
Nothing else could be so real
Is it nostalgia?
Is it the sun?
Cause it wont leave us alone
And we’re still young
When we sat down to pray
If you saw my eyes
You’d know I just couldn’t close them
Not all night
Enter to the other side
It sounds like a lullaby
In this twilight
We are pale
On this frail side
Nothing else could be so real
When we were young
We thought we'd escape from it all
But we were wrong
Then unexpectedly
We’re in a dream
So faintly we didn’t notice
Or did we?
Enter the other side
It sounds like a lullaby
In this twilight
We are pale
On this frail side
Nothing else could be so real
Is it nostalgia?
Is it the sun?
Cause it wont leave us alone
And we’re still young
When we sat down to pray
If you saw my eyes
You’d know I just couldn’t close them
Not all night
Enter to the other side
It sounds like a lullaby
In this twilight
We are pale
On this frail side
Nothing else could be so real
Monday, November 10, 2008
Lights out, shoot up the station
Ladies and Gentlemen:
I present to you, for your enjoyment, an internet radio station that kicks ass. All you do is type in a band or a song and it makes a whole radio station that plays similar music. It’s worth a look.
Also, I am a janitor no more. After a mere two months they found a replacement of dubious quality. But I am not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. By the way if anyone is interested in the meaning of the phrase I will enlighten you.....
It is fairly clear one shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth because it would be rude to do so. Understanding the origin of the phrase further expands on meaning. There are two possible sources for the phrase “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” Both suggest it is impolite to inspect a horse’s teeth, which generally is a good indication of age and value. The receiver of the gift horse should instead prove him or herself grateful instead of trying to instantly examine the worth of the horse.
Now my only job is to get into a grad program...then once I am in find a new part time, degree correlated job. It never ends, I spend this life allways in transit.You know what the Mexicans say about the Pacific?
Good news on the procreation front. Our doctor, who rocks, has identified the problem. Apparently there is a critical low of progesterone. Thankfully the treatment is simple and 97% effective. Elaine will take supplementary doses until the placenta takes over and that should carry the pregnancy to term. Knowing the cause, and thus knowing that we can fix it makes this soooo much easier. Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.
The quiet things that no one ever knows
I had a dream yesterday afternoon. I dreamt that I had three fish tanks and all the tanks were connected by a series of tunnels. I was watching the tanks trying to make sure the fish were ok. For some reason a squid had gotten into the tanks. Since they were freshwater tanks I watched in disbelief thinking that the squid couldn’t survive in the tanks but the squid showed no adverse effects. I watched helpless as the squid moved quickly into the farthest tank on the left. In that tank were two dwarf Gourami’s they were both weak and the squid immediately pounced on them and ate them both as I pounded on the lid of the tank trying futilely to make it stop. Once the squid had finished with the fish it buried itself into the sand on the bottom of the tank apparently waiting for another fish to swim in. I grabbed the tank and sloshed it around trying to get the squid to swim out. My actions only stirred up the sand and revealed the body of a small sculpin that had died previously. The squid had only been temporarily dislodged from the sand and it reached over and grabbed the fish, a previous victim I believe, and reburied itself. Then I woke up then leaving the dream with the undying squid in the sand waiting and me powerless to do anything about it.
The meaning of the dream is simple. The fish are my children, the tank is my wife and the squid is the nameless undying thing that takes my children each in succession.
This is our second miscarriage. They were twins, most likely identical. I never thought about twins and indeed I never knew I had any particular desire for twins until they told us Elaine was carrying twins. I realized immediately that it was something I wanted and probably always had wanted. Identical twins especially were a hearts desire I never knew I had until now. It makes the loss all the more heartbreaking. It is a 1 in 100 chance to have twins, 1 in 100. To achieve and lose that is like winning an important contest and then finding out a week latter that because of a technicality the prize was sent back to the manufacturer. My initial response was despair and rage. Now I am just spent.
My feeling now is best summed up in the verse “Though he slay me yet I will follow Him.” But sometimes it’s so bitter…so bitter.
The meaning of the dream is simple. The fish are my children, the tank is my wife and the squid is the nameless undying thing that takes my children each in succession.
This is our second miscarriage. They were twins, most likely identical. I never thought about twins and indeed I never knew I had any particular desire for twins until they told us Elaine was carrying twins. I realized immediately that it was something I wanted and probably always had wanted. Identical twins especially were a hearts desire I never knew I had until now. It makes the loss all the more heartbreaking. It is a 1 in 100 chance to have twins, 1 in 100. To achieve and lose that is like winning an important contest and then finding out a week latter that because of a technicality the prize was sent back to the manufacturer. My initial response was despair and rage. Now I am just spent.
My feeling now is best summed up in the verse “Though he slay me yet I will follow Him.” But sometimes it’s so bitter…so bitter.
So keep the blood in your head
And keep your feet on the ground
If today's the day it gets tired
Today's the day we drop out
Friday, October 10, 2008
“I am from Canada and I have never seen anything like that.”
As I previously stated, I just returned from California. I went down for a week to visit friends from college. I could describe the trip in greater detail but there isn’t much to say, we did what we always do. It was a good trip, but short. It’s unfortunate that the people you love the most end up being the people the furthest away. We spent most of the trip in San Diego and drove from there home in one straight shot.
We drove through the night, the only incident of interest happening in Kettleman City.
I have stopped there every time I have driven from southern California to Portland for several reasons. First, it is the last In-N-Out you will see heading north out of LA and second, it is spaced perfectly for refueling.
We pulled in at about 11:45 to the chevron and I began to fuel the car while Elaine went in to grab me a soda and use the bathroom.
The Chevron gas station is joined to McDonalds, together forming a rectangle parallel to the freeway. There are four gas pumps in front with parking in the front and on one side where there are also bathrooms. The complex sits on a corner with roads in front of the pumps and then running downhill on the side opposite the bathrooms
While I was fueling, there was a white passenger van and a small Honda(?) with tinted windows parked down by the bathrooms with a group of guys standing around. These guys started to get really worked up about something but since I don’t speak Spanish I had no idea what was going on. At this point another guy walks out of the convenience store and, as soon as he sees the crowd by the bathroom, turns on his heel and flees, disappearing around the side of the McDonalds. The crowd by the cars sees the guy running and raised a shout, then piled into their cars and peeled out after him; the white van going around one side of the McDonalds and the car going around the other to head him off. As the cars disappear from line of sight a semi going down that road blasts its horn indicating that in his flight the guy had run out into the road.
Once they were gone the guy at the pump across from mine looks at me and says:
Guy: “I am from Canada and I have never seen anything like that.”
Me: “Yeah, I don’t even know what was going on.”
Guy: “Man I don’t have a clue.”
I then went back to waiting for the gas tank to fill. Moments later the guy who had been pursued came back around the corner by the bathrooms with the white van following about fifteen feet behind. The guy on foot had a handgun which he would periodically brandish at the guy in the van trying to get him to back off. The guy with the gun continued to walk up towards the pumps and when he got close enough, opened to driver’s door of our Subaru and jumped in! I immediately rushed forward and jumped into the passenger side, told him to get out, and pushed him out of the car.
He got out and continued to move toward the McDonalds. I at that point got back out of the car, shut the driver’s door and locked the car. By then the guy and the van had moved out of line of sight back around the McDonalds. At that point the other folks at the gas station began to think that maybe it wasn’t such a hot place to be. The few cars there began to peel out, aiming for the freeway. At that point I heard 4 to 5 gunshots fired on the other side of the McDonalds and then the white van rolled by going back up the road.
I waited for Elaine in the car while the Canadian guy left in a panic only to realize he prepaid his gas and return to harass the attendants for his money back (Elaine said he was screaming and cussing her out - and that she though he was the problem!). Elaine and I were the last car to leave and, once we got on the freeway, we saw two squad cars tearing down I-5 South aiming for Kettleman City.
I have always wondered when faced with a dangerous situation if I’d freeze and let fear get the best of me. Now I know that I will be fine. There was a moment when I first saw the gun that I felt myself shake, but it was only momentary. I didn’t leave the pump because the guy was focused on the van and I didn’t want to attract his attention. I didn’t want to be the guy who got people killed because he ran. So, as long as he was only seeing the van we were all relatively safe. When he got into our car I cursed myself for not locking it, but I wasn’t scared. In the fraction of a second before I got in the car I had three things run though my head:
1. An image of Elaine and I stranded in the middle of nowhere.
2. The thought "Not on my watch".
3. The idea that I couldn’t let the guy get away. If he was at the gas station he was contained but if he got away in my car armed and desperate he could hurt other people.
That, in the end, is what made me get in the car. The truth is that when I got in and pushed him, he was already on the way out since he didn’t see keys in the ignition. (Thankfully Elaine insisted that I not leave them in the car - just in case.)
So yeah…Kettleman City
“A Kettleman City gas station turned into a murder scene just before midnight on Tuesday night after a 33-year-old man was shot down by an unknown number of suspects. Kings County Sheriff's deputies were dispatched to the 27500 block of Ward Drive at 11:57 p.m. on a call of shots fired. When they arrived at the Kettleman City Chevron Gas Station, they found an unresponsive Hispanic male suffering from apparent gun shot wounds.Officers pronounced the man dead at the scene.The suspects were last seen fleeing the area in a white passenger van towards Highway 41.Investigators contacted regarding the case would not answer questions regarding the nature of the shooting, stating only that "the case is still being investigated at this time."
Other than his hometown of Portland, Ore. and his age, law enforcement officials are not releasing additional information on the victim until contact can be made with his next of kin. An autopsy on the victim is still pending as of this afternoon.Anyone with information on this case is requested to contact the Kings County Sheriff's Department at 582-3211, ext. 2790.”
- The Sentinel
We drove through the night, the only incident of interest happening in Kettleman City.
I have stopped there every time I have driven from southern California to Portland for several reasons. First, it is the last In-N-Out you will see heading north out of LA and second, it is spaced perfectly for refueling.
We pulled in at about 11:45 to the chevron and I began to fuel the car while Elaine went in to grab me a soda and use the bathroom.
The Chevron gas station is joined to McDonalds, together forming a rectangle parallel to the freeway. There are four gas pumps in front with parking in the front and on one side where there are also bathrooms. The complex sits on a corner with roads in front of the pumps and then running downhill on the side opposite the bathrooms
While I was fueling, there was a white passenger van and a small Honda(?) with tinted windows parked down by the bathrooms with a group of guys standing around. These guys started to get really worked up about something but since I don’t speak Spanish I had no idea what was going on. At this point another guy walks out of the convenience store and, as soon as he sees the crowd by the bathroom, turns on his heel and flees, disappearing around the side of the McDonalds. The crowd by the cars sees the guy running and raised a shout, then piled into their cars and peeled out after him; the white van going around one side of the McDonalds and the car going around the other to head him off. As the cars disappear from line of sight a semi going down that road blasts its horn indicating that in his flight the guy had run out into the road.
Once they were gone the guy at the pump across from mine looks at me and says:
Guy: “I am from Canada and I have never seen anything like that.”
Me: “Yeah, I don’t even know what was going on.”
Guy: “Man I don’t have a clue.”
I then went back to waiting for the gas tank to fill. Moments later the guy who had been pursued came back around the corner by the bathrooms with the white van following about fifteen feet behind. The guy on foot had a handgun which he would periodically brandish at the guy in the van trying to get him to back off. The guy with the gun continued to walk up towards the pumps and when he got close enough, opened to driver’s door of our Subaru and jumped in! I immediately rushed forward and jumped into the passenger side, told him to get out, and pushed him out of the car.
He got out and continued to move toward the McDonalds. I at that point got back out of the car, shut the driver’s door and locked the car. By then the guy and the van had moved out of line of sight back around the McDonalds. At that point the other folks at the gas station began to think that maybe it wasn’t such a hot place to be. The few cars there began to peel out, aiming for the freeway. At that point I heard 4 to 5 gunshots fired on the other side of the McDonalds and then the white van rolled by going back up the road.
I waited for Elaine in the car while the Canadian guy left in a panic only to realize he prepaid his gas and return to harass the attendants for his money back (Elaine said he was screaming and cussing her out - and that she though he was the problem!). Elaine and I were the last car to leave and, once we got on the freeway, we saw two squad cars tearing down I-5 South aiming for Kettleman City.
I have always wondered when faced with a dangerous situation if I’d freeze and let fear get the best of me. Now I know that I will be fine. There was a moment when I first saw the gun that I felt myself shake, but it was only momentary. I didn’t leave the pump because the guy was focused on the van and I didn’t want to attract his attention. I didn’t want to be the guy who got people killed because he ran. So, as long as he was only seeing the van we were all relatively safe. When he got into our car I cursed myself for not locking it, but I wasn’t scared. In the fraction of a second before I got in the car I had three things run though my head:
1. An image of Elaine and I stranded in the middle of nowhere.
2. The thought "Not on my watch".
3. The idea that I couldn’t let the guy get away. If he was at the gas station he was contained but if he got away in my car armed and desperate he could hurt other people.
That, in the end, is what made me get in the car. The truth is that when I got in and pushed him, he was already on the way out since he didn’t see keys in the ignition. (Thankfully Elaine insisted that I not leave them in the car - just in case.)
So yeah…Kettleman City
“A Kettleman City gas station turned into a murder scene just before midnight on Tuesday night after a 33-year-old man was shot down by an unknown number of suspects. Kings County Sheriff's deputies were dispatched to the 27500 block of Ward Drive at 11:57 p.m. on a call of shots fired. When they arrived at the Kettleman City Chevron Gas Station, they found an unresponsive Hispanic male suffering from apparent gun shot wounds.Officers pronounced the man dead at the scene.The suspects were last seen fleeing the area in a white passenger van towards Highway 41.Investigators contacted regarding the case would not answer questions regarding the nature of the shooting, stating only that "the case is still being investigated at this time."
Other than his hometown of Portland, Ore. and his age, law enforcement officials are not releasing additional information on the victim until contact can be made with his next of kin. An autopsy on the victim is still pending as of this afternoon.Anyone with information on this case is requested to contact the Kings County Sheriff's Department at 582-3211, ext. 2790.”
- The Sentinel
Well I confess, I don't know what to make from all this mess
So follow the leader down
And swallow your pride and drown
When there's no place left to go
Well I suppose its time for me to reveal my performance on the GRE. I arrived home from California to find the final scores in a pile of mail on the kitchen counter. The results are disappointing, more so than I had initially anticipated. I scored a 600 on the verbal which puts me in the 85 percentile. The result of the math section was a score of 620 with a percentile rank of 65. The essay portion was a 3.5 out of a possible 6 leaving me sadly in the 20 percentile. Overall it was a pretty poor showing. I still am not sure if I should retake it. I suspect I won’t. Now I get to put everything together and try to begin the application process. Next week will be busy with that.
The weather has changed in Oregon. Fog gathers in the hallows now and the air is cold and carries the promise of winters arrival. I am rapidly running out of time. Despite that all I want to do is sleep and dull my mind with pointless diversions.
And swallow your pride and drown
When there's no place left to go
Well I suppose its time for me to reveal my performance on the GRE. I arrived home from California to find the final scores in a pile of mail on the kitchen counter. The results are disappointing, more so than I had initially anticipated. I scored a 600 on the verbal which puts me in the 85 percentile. The result of the math section was a score of 620 with a percentile rank of 65. The essay portion was a 3.5 out of a possible 6 leaving me sadly in the 20 percentile. Overall it was a pretty poor showing. I still am not sure if I should retake it. I suspect I won’t. Now I get to put everything together and try to begin the application process. Next week will be busy with that.
The weather has changed in Oregon. Fog gathers in the hallows now and the air is cold and carries the promise of winters arrival. I am rapidly running out of time. Despite that all I want to do is sleep and dull my mind with pointless diversions.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
A nod to the spirits of the past
I am in a Burgerville with Elaine and we are grabbing a quick bite between errands. It’s the location close to my old high school and as a nod to an old tradition and the ghosts I used to share it with I request the two songs out of the jukebox.. The first of these is Land Down Under by The Men At Work then the second comes on.
Elaine: “who is this?”
Jeff: “It’s Toto. The song is Africa.”
Elaine: “I like it.”
Guy sitting with some co-workers several tables away bursts into song: “I guess the rains down in affffrriicca…” Then he says to his co-workers “Good old Toto, they never let you down.”
And then I smile to myself.
Elaine: “who is this?”
Jeff: “It’s Toto. The song is Africa.”
Elaine: “I like it.”
Guy sitting with some co-workers several tables away bursts into song: “I guess the rains down in affffrriicca…” Then he says to his co-workers “Good old Toto, they never let you down.”
And then I smile to myself.
Take that King George....
Then
Now
I am a quasi-historical figure. I took part in the Boston Tea Party…I just joined it about 300 years too late. In Boston Harbor is an old sloop (or schooner I can’t remember exactly what kind of ship it was). The ship is a floating museum to the Boston Tea Party complete with historical enactors and fake boxes of tea that you can throw overboard. Since the boxes are tied with ropes to the ship they are never lost and so your participation, as it were, is somewhat of a fraud. So I decided that I would do my part to protest the taxes imposed by the British and toss a spot of tea into the harbor myself. I reached down, grabbed the box and threw. Just as I released the box I heard my sister cry out “Jeff! NO!” But it was too late and as the box flew over the side…the rope tied to it followed…all of the rope that was supposed to secure the box to the ship followed. The rope had been cut. My sister and I watched the tea box drift out into the shipping lane and then out of sight. I proceeded to go below decks and hide.
I was probably around 13 on a long flight to visit my mom’s family in Minnesota. Me and my sister we sitting together in one row and my parents were in another. I was in the middle and my sister was on the isle. The guy in the window seat was this young really tall black guy who was just huge and built like a line backer, all muscle. I only make those observations to fully establish just how great my error was. So early in the flight I fall asleep. Not long after, in a state of only partial wakefulness, I sit up and somehow I think that the guy in the window seat is my dad. So I turn, to him pat him on the arm affectionately and give him a huge idiot grin and then I lean back into my seat and instantly fall back asleep. When I wake up a half hour latter I vaguely remember the incident but can’t tell if it was a dream or it actually happened. The remaining hours of the flight are awkward as hell. It is only as we descend into Minneapolis that I finally get up the courage to ask him if it happened. I only got as far as “Excuse me sir but I was wondering…did I...” before the man erupted into hysterics. He was laughing so hard that he began to cry and could only answer my question by nodding his head. He was really nice about it and didn’t make me feel bad despite the laughing.
Infinite Loop
Picture this if you will:
It’s a nice sunny summer day in Oregon.
Elaine and I are weeding the side-yard.
A high school kid cruises up on his bicycle and stops next to where I am weeding.
Kid: “Hey, can I ask you a question?”
I stop weeding and walk over.
Me: “Sure man, what do you need?”
I am thinking “Sorry bud but I am not buying a magazine subscription, even if it means you won’t earn enough to go on that reward trip to Antigua with the rest of the junior sales team.”
Kid: “Why were the cops here?”
I look up and down the sleepy residential street.
Me: “The cops were HERE?”
Kid: “Yeah, the cops were just here so I rode down to see what was going on.”
Me: “Really? Well sorry man but I haven’t seen any cops.”
Kid: “Yeah, they were just here. Do you know what they were here for?”
Me: “No, I didn’t see any cops. I ran an errand about an hour and half ago so maybe I missed them…or something.”
Kid: “Did you hear anything last night?”
Me: “No, I didn’t hear a thing.”
Kid: “I heard a loud noise…it woke me up. I thought that maybe that’s why the cops were here.”
The kid looks at me imploringly.
Me: “Yeah….well I am a pretty sound sleeper soooo…”
Kid: “So, why were the cops here?”
Me: “Look man, I am really sorry but I didn’t see any cops…at all.”
Kid: “Yeah, well, ‘cause last night I heard a really loud noise. Did you hear it?”
Me: “I…No I didn’t hear a thing. I slept right through the night.”
Kid: “But why were the cops here?”
Me: “Look, I didn’t see any cops. So I have no idea. And I didn’t hear anything last night.”
Kid: “Yeah, it woke me up. Did you hear it?”
At that point I begin to worry, there is no exit strategy for this type of conversation…it becomes an infinite loop driven by undeniable madness.
Me: “I heard nothing.”
Kid: “Well it woke me up and I thought that maybe the cops…”
Me: “I never saw any cops, I never heard any sounds. I really don’t know what to tell you.”
Kid: “There were people outside my bedroom window last night.”
“Possible” I think to myself “but highly unlikely.”
Me: “Well…that’s scary. Did you tell your folks?”
Kid: “Yeah there were three people outside my bedroom window.”
Me: “Three of them….outside your bedroom window?”
Kid: “Yeah it was three girls and they were there and they were naked.”
I think to myself “Well that’s probably the average high school guys dream”, and with this new information I can officially judge this lad’s story a complete fabrication.
Me: “….Nice.”
Kid: “But I’m 17 and I am too mature for girls. I was into girls when I was a kid but I am too mature now for girls.”
The kid regards me as if waiting for me to say something and I just stare back. I am trying to decide whether the presence of a girl weeding with me or the wedding ring on my finger, should be the most compelling clue to this kid that apparently I don’t share his sentiment.*
Kid: “Yeah, my three friends all have girlfriends but they are too young and immature they shouldn’t be dating.”
The kid looks at me for confirmation.
Me: “Look man, I don’t know your friends so I am in no position to evaluate their relative fitness for dating relationships.”
The kid looks at me with distrust and I raise my palms in a helpless “What the hell did you expect gesture?”
Kid: “Well I am 17 so I am too mature for a girlfriend.”
Me: “Hey, if that helps you sleep at night.”
Kid: “Well last night, did you here anything?”
Me: “Nope! No noises, no cops and as it so happens my bedroom window was not graced by a parcel of naked chicks.”
Kid: “I rode down here because I saw cops.”
Me: “Indeed. Well I have to get back….you know weeding and all.”
I turn to go
Kid: “But WHY were the cops here?”
Me: “If they show up again I’ll be the first to ask.”
Kid: But did you hear anything last night?”
Me: “No. Have a good day.”
The kid mumbles something unintelligible and rides off up the street.
When I told Ryan this story he began to laugh and asked if I had some sort of sign on my back that invites crazy people to talk to me. I thought about it and, yes, I do attract the crazies. Let’s, just for kicks, review the highlights.
Ferret-loving drunks: where cheap wine and weasels meet.
Crazy women who want to use animals as punishment: why abuse just children or animals when we can do both at the same time!
The effortlessly confused, picture illiterate people.
That homeless guy who insisted I owed him two dollars because I “lost a bet” about whether or not he could remove his prosthetic eye.
The other homeless guy who told the junior higher in my charge to “bleed me like a stuck pig” if I were an adult.
That guy in the waiting room who chose me out of five other people to address a highly cryptic somewhat incriminating philosophical non-sequitor immediately following which he went back to reading his book and ignoring me.
My high school stalker; thanks for the awkward memories, and scores of guilt trip laden letters.
Those are just a few of my many experiences with the less mentally settled segment of our society. But hey, at least I never got felt up in Santa Monica. (That’s right buddy, all of us got ammo.)
It’s a nice sunny summer day in Oregon.
Elaine and I are weeding the side-yard.
A high school kid cruises up on his bicycle and stops next to where I am weeding.
Kid: “Hey, can I ask you a question?”
I stop weeding and walk over.
Me: “Sure man, what do you need?”
I am thinking “Sorry bud but I am not buying a magazine subscription, even if it means you won’t earn enough to go on that reward trip to Antigua with the rest of the junior sales team.”
Kid: “Why were the cops here?”
I look up and down the sleepy residential street.
Me: “The cops were HERE?”
Kid: “Yeah, the cops were just here so I rode down to see what was going on.”
Me: “Really? Well sorry man but I haven’t seen any cops.”
Kid: “Yeah, they were just here. Do you know what they were here for?”
Me: “No, I didn’t see any cops. I ran an errand about an hour and half ago so maybe I missed them…or something.”
Kid: “Did you hear anything last night?”
Me: “No, I didn’t hear a thing.”
Kid: “I heard a loud noise…it woke me up. I thought that maybe that’s why the cops were here.”
The kid looks at me imploringly.
Me: “Yeah….well I am a pretty sound sleeper soooo…”
Kid: “So, why were the cops here?”
Me: “Look man, I am really sorry but I didn’t see any cops…at all.”
Kid: “Yeah, well, ‘cause last night I heard a really loud noise. Did you hear it?”
Me: “I…No I didn’t hear a thing. I slept right through the night.”
Kid: “But why were the cops here?”
Me: “Look, I didn’t see any cops. So I have no idea. And I didn’t hear anything last night.”
Kid: “Yeah, it woke me up. Did you hear it?”
At that point I begin to worry, there is no exit strategy for this type of conversation…it becomes an infinite loop driven by undeniable madness.
Me: “I heard nothing.”
Kid: “Well it woke me up and I thought that maybe the cops…”
Me: “I never saw any cops, I never heard any sounds. I really don’t know what to tell you.”
Kid: “There were people outside my bedroom window last night.”
“Possible” I think to myself “but highly unlikely.”
Me: “Well…that’s scary. Did you tell your folks?”
Kid: “Yeah there were three people outside my bedroom window.”
Me: “Three of them….outside your bedroom window?”
Kid: “Yeah it was three girls and they were there and they were naked.”
I think to myself “Well that’s probably the average high school guys dream”, and with this new information I can officially judge this lad’s story a complete fabrication.
Me: “….Nice.”
Kid: “But I’m 17 and I am too mature for girls. I was into girls when I was a kid but I am too mature now for girls.”
The kid regards me as if waiting for me to say something and I just stare back. I am trying to decide whether the presence of a girl weeding with me or the wedding ring on my finger, should be the most compelling clue to this kid that apparently I don’t share his sentiment.*
Kid: “Yeah, my three friends all have girlfriends but they are too young and immature they shouldn’t be dating.”
The kid looks at me for confirmation.
Me: “Look man, I don’t know your friends so I am in no position to evaluate their relative fitness for dating relationships.”
The kid looks at me with distrust and I raise my palms in a helpless “What the hell did you expect gesture?”
Kid: “Well I am 17 so I am too mature for a girlfriend.”
Me: “Hey, if that helps you sleep at night.”
Kid: “Well last night, did you here anything?”
Me: “Nope! No noises, no cops and as it so happens my bedroom window was not graced by a parcel of naked chicks.”
Kid: “I rode down here because I saw cops.”
Me: “Indeed. Well I have to get back….you know weeding and all.”
I turn to go
Kid: “But WHY were the cops here?”
Me: “If they show up again I’ll be the first to ask.”
Kid: But did you hear anything last night?”
Me: “No. Have a good day.”
The kid mumbles something unintelligible and rides off up the street.
When I told Ryan this story he began to laugh and asked if I had some sort of sign on my back that invites crazy people to talk to me. I thought about it and, yes, I do attract the crazies. Let’s, just for kicks, review the highlights.
Ferret-loving drunks: where cheap wine and weasels meet.
Crazy women who want to use animals as punishment: why abuse just children or animals when we can do both at the same time!
The effortlessly confused, picture illiterate people.
That homeless guy who insisted I owed him two dollars because I “lost a bet” about whether or not he could remove his prosthetic eye.
The other homeless guy who told the junior higher in my charge to “bleed me like a stuck pig” if I were an adult.
That guy in the waiting room who chose me out of five other people to address a highly cryptic somewhat incriminating philosophical non-sequitor immediately following which he went back to reading his book and ignoring me.
My high school stalker; thanks for the awkward memories, and scores of guilt trip laden letters.
Those are just a few of my many experiences with the less mentally settled segment of our society. But hey, at least I never got felt up in Santa Monica. (That’s right buddy, all of us got ammo.)
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
And we sleep inside of this machine
Music is worthless unless it can make a
Complete stranger break down and cry
This is an intentional overstatement but it still makes the point. Music is powerful. Even without lyrics music can tell a story or paint a landscape just as clearly as a book or a painting. Those pop songs with insipid lyrics about some jackass’s car truly are worthless in most ways that matter. Music like literature can transport people and it can crystallize ideas. I have always thought so. With that being true why then do Christian praise chorus lack so much? With the weight of the truth that they carry why do they often sound simple, repetitive and empty? It hit me the other day as I sat in church. The music was the standard set of songs we usually sing and I began to get annoyed because the music sounded like I felt, empty and tired. I thought about it on the way home and I think it is sad that there are so many powerful songs we don’t sing just because they are not in the conventionally held worship rotation. So I decided that I would write my own alternative worship set, one that would be moving particularly for me. I only put nine songs in keeping with the traditional amount in any given set.
The Transfiguration - Sufjan Stevens
Come, Lord Jesus – Andrew Peterson
40 – U2
Let That Be Enough – Switchfoot
Be Thou My Vision – (full band w/ Celtic overtones style)
Call Me Liar – Plankeye
Don’t You Know I’ve Always Loved You – Third Day
Some Seek Forgiveness, Others Escape – Underoath
Revelation Song – (The John Warren, Full Band version, not the sappy version that seems to be everywhere right now.)
I am not sure about the Plankeye song but I like it as a lead in to Third Day and Underoath. It just seems a bit disjointed from Be Thou My Vision.
Other songs that I would have put on an extended set include:
Lifeline – Brooke Fraser
Abraham – Sufjan Stevens
To Be Alone With You – Sufjan Stevens
The Artist In The Ambulance – Thrice
Dare You To Move – Switchfoot
Learning To Breathe – Switchfoot
And if you did want to use artists that are stock for the Christian music scene:
Consume Me – DC Talk
Entertaining Angels – Newsboys
(Those happen to be two good songs ok! Stop rolling your eyes!)
Friday, August 8, 2008
The answer's in the question.
(I present a true-life nanny story. I will henceforth refer to my charge as "the kid" to keep from embarrassing anyone.)
*The kids and I are sitting at a table playing Attack Uno.*
Kid: “Can I ask a question?”
Me: “Sure man, shoot. We don’t stand on ceremony here.”
*Kid looks at me in confusion. I sigh.*
Me: “Ask away bud.”
Kid: “Would it be OK if I went to the bathroom right now?”
*The game slides to a halt with everyone staring at the kid.*
Me: “OK, before I answer that let me just repeat what you just asked so we can be sure that I heard you right. You are asking me whether it’s OK if you pee your pants right now?”
*Kid half-nods.*
Me: “OK first let me just say that no, it is most certainly not OK for you to pee your pants; and second, intentional pant-wetting is just wrong on so many levels.”
Kid: “Well, I am wet anyway.”
Me: “Right, the crucial difference being that right now it's water not urine.... in fact why don’t you go put on some completely dry cloths before we play anymore.”
*Kid walks to his room to get his clothes.*
*The kids and I are sitting at a table playing Attack Uno.*
Kid: “Can I ask a question?”
Me: “Sure man, shoot. We don’t stand on ceremony here.”
*Kid looks at me in confusion. I sigh.*
Me: “Ask away bud.”
Kid: “Would it be OK if I went to the bathroom right now?”
*The game slides to a halt with everyone staring at the kid.*
Me: “OK, before I answer that let me just repeat what you just asked so we can be sure that I heard you right. You are asking me whether it’s OK if you pee your pants right now?”
*Kid half-nods.*
Me: “OK first let me just say that no, it is most certainly not OK for you to pee your pants; and second, intentional pant-wetting is just wrong on so many levels.”
Kid: “Well, I am wet anyway.”
Me: “Right, the crucial difference being that right now it's water not urine.... in fact why don’t you go put on some completely dry cloths before we play anymore.”
*Kid walks to his room to get his clothes.*
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
To tell it straight, I'm trying to build a wall
Change, change, change,
I want to get up out of my skin
tell you what if I can shake it
I'm 'a make this something worth dreaming of
So folks.... I am back from Hawaii for awhile and, much in the same vein as Eric, I have delayed far too long to post about it. I might do a post with some of the pictures I took later on. It was a good trip overall. Elaine has done me a service in posting a complete record. I was there one more day than she was. Good trip even though the family aspect can be hard at times. I never quite feel like I belong. I love my family but sometimes being with them, especially on long trips, I feel really alone. Anyway, since I returned I haven’t been up to that much.
The current status of my higher education is me preparing to take the GRE in August and apply for my masters program for the winter term. So there it is. It won’t happen in the fall. It is a relief in the sense that it gives me more time, but it also creates a huge gap. I intend to get to California in this gap.
It’s scary, honestly, pushing forward again. I don‘t feel ready for the GRE and things always seem to get so busy. I am now in a place where I have so much riding on it. I have been telling people my plans for such a long time, as if it were a sure thing - as a way of explaining why I don’t have a job in the field I spent so long studying for, as a way to justify not making enough money and even just so that I can still have a path to follow. It gets murkier each year and now with the next set of hurdles fast approaching all the anger and the eloquence are bleeding into fear. I am pursuing this goal, even though it seems that I never get closer, because it is the only thing with vocational applications in life that I am really passionate about. If you have to work you might as well do what you love, what’s the point in anything else?
It’s weird how foreign the idea of pursuing your great loves and personal fascinations vocationally is to so many of the people I know. They all have this idea that the goal is to maximize income doing whatever job has the best and easiest opportunities, and so it seems wasteful that I would give so much to this quest.
God built me in such a way that I see him most clearly in nature; I was born for this in a way. Granted, I am not the smartest person and many other people will be better in this field than I will. But for me anything less than seeing this through would be settling, not because it was right but because it was easier.
In the meantime I am working two jobs as a way to ease our finances and do my part, so it’s not all on Elaine. I work at our church as a glorified janitor. And now I am also be a nanny for the rest of this month as well as the next. I am watching two boys for a friend’s brother while he’s at work during the day until school starts. The boys are 7 and 8, good natured and well behaved. I feel burnt out after a day watching them, but not because of them acting crazy. It has even, so far, been an interesting experience and I will probably post more on it later.
The jobs are both ok but sometimes I catch myself wondering what the hell I am doing with my life and begin to feel like a failure. Soon enough I will move on and I know I can accomplish good in these positions. It’s just that some nights I can hear the old voices and mocking laughter on the wind and see the raised eyebrows in my mind’s eye. Aren’t we all just so wonderfully haunted?
I want to get up out of my skin
tell you what if I can shake it
I'm 'a make this something worth dreaming of
So folks.... I am back from Hawaii for awhile and, much in the same vein as Eric, I have delayed far too long to post about it. I might do a post with some of the pictures I took later on. It was a good trip overall. Elaine has done me a service in posting a complete record. I was there one more day than she was. Good trip even though the family aspect can be hard at times. I never quite feel like I belong. I love my family but sometimes being with them, especially on long trips, I feel really alone. Anyway, since I returned I haven’t been up to that much.
The current status of my higher education is me preparing to take the GRE in August and apply for my masters program for the winter term. So there it is. It won’t happen in the fall. It is a relief in the sense that it gives me more time, but it also creates a huge gap. I intend to get to California in this gap.
It’s scary, honestly, pushing forward again. I don‘t feel ready for the GRE and things always seem to get so busy. I am now in a place where I have so much riding on it. I have been telling people my plans for such a long time, as if it were a sure thing - as a way of explaining why I don’t have a job in the field I spent so long studying for, as a way to justify not making enough money and even just so that I can still have a path to follow. It gets murkier each year and now with the next set of hurdles fast approaching all the anger and the eloquence are bleeding into fear. I am pursuing this goal, even though it seems that I never get closer, because it is the only thing with vocational applications in life that I am really passionate about. If you have to work you might as well do what you love, what’s the point in anything else?
It’s weird how foreign the idea of pursuing your great loves and personal fascinations vocationally is to so many of the people I know. They all have this idea that the goal is to maximize income doing whatever job has the best and easiest opportunities, and so it seems wasteful that I would give so much to this quest.
God built me in such a way that I see him most clearly in nature; I was born for this in a way. Granted, I am not the smartest person and many other people will be better in this field than I will. But for me anything less than seeing this through would be settling, not because it was right but because it was easier.
In the meantime I am working two jobs as a way to ease our finances and do my part, so it’s not all on Elaine. I work at our church as a glorified janitor. And now I am also be a nanny for the rest of this month as well as the next. I am watching two boys for a friend’s brother while he’s at work during the day until school starts. The boys are 7 and 8, good natured and well behaved. I feel burnt out after a day watching them, but not because of them acting crazy. It has even, so far, been an interesting experience and I will probably post more on it later.
The jobs are both ok but sometimes I catch myself wondering what the hell I am doing with my life and begin to feel like a failure. Soon enough I will move on and I know I can accomplish good in these positions. It’s just that some nights I can hear the old voices and mocking laughter on the wind and see the raised eyebrows in my mind’s eye. Aren’t we all just so wonderfully haunted?
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Part 4 (the guitar)
We went to the Shirock's house (the pastor who married Elaine and me) and he showed us this guitar he hand made. It was the most beautiful guitar I have ever seen. No picture could do it justice.
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