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.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
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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