Thursday, December 29, 2005

Well, I'm still here, but I'm not waxing too loquacious at the moment. I don't feel I have much of any significance to say right now either, so I suppose since my blog break wasn't intentional, things with me are either too mundane, old hat or just plain lazy. You get to choose.

I am entertaining my niece, Taylor, and her friend, Jade from Tennessee this week and that might be arresting my attention. We went shopping yesterday and I got more stuff than the two aforementioned twelve-year-olds AND my wife combined. That ain't right. Lard hep me.

Monday, December 05, 2005

I think I must be getting old. Older, maybe? Greyer, yes, if my beard stubble is any indication and new furrows and wrinkles now permanently engraved in places on my face where there used to be smoothness. No real worries there just yet....they emerge only when my countenance is contorted, as in a smile, or a grimace directed Jasonward.

Attending my chronological progression is a penchant toward Puritanism when it comes to my Weather Channel. Gone are the days of blossoming weather technology blending with the newfound power of a pioneering network who discovered the formula to bringing weather to our homes 24/7. All of that used to include the requisite nerdiness of the on-air personalities. Straight weather, humble, but still straightforward graphics and your local forecast with that teriffic music in the background with which my wife loves to fall asleep if I am away.

Now bring on ratings games. Cue the sex kittens who, bedecked with their surgically-enabled cosmetic redesigns, sway their arms in sultry abandon over Kansas and Nebraska along the tornadogenic cold front in my early Aprils. Here comes former on-air personality and forty-one year-old Marny Stanier from the late eighties and her lawsuit accusing the Weather Channel (TWC) of letting her go because they want their on-air talent to be under forty. Insert in the upper right hand corner of my boob toob little icons for Stihl or Campbell's Soup. Fashion cutesy commercials touting your bad self now that you know you have the market cornered. Cue up the new graphics on the new show with the new segment that TWC producers revamped AGAIN for the upteenth time this month. And how about playing the music on my local forecast and letting it cycle through more than once before shelving it a week later? It used to have the time to grow on you like a cicle of ice in a freezing rain event.

What does this have to do with weather? I think I want my old Weather Channel back.

Now, if you have a chance to grow to like something you see, expect it to change tomorrow, if not sooner. It used to be that the fact TWC even existed was something radical and new in and of itself. But now we have ratings. And ads to garner. And appearances with which to impress. And viewers to attain. TWC has been sucked up into the maelstrom of the pop-media culture and now imitates in pure impulsive construct and surface form what it used to represent in content and vision.

All is not lost. I have not abandoned my first love and I have nothing against hot weather babes per se, but what's so wrong with a middle-aged lady who knows her stuff and still has on-air mojo? And keep the old dudes like the late hurricane expert John Hope who had virtually no on-camera finesse but what you saw was what you got....flat personality but dead-on information.

Ah, the plague of the videodrome.

Monday, November 21, 2005

I must say that this weekend's regional coalescence at the Brownhouse imparts one more main nugget of import: it is God who validates our "one-anothering." Subsequent to that realization are the life-pregnant moments across the spectrum of the mingling, the befriending and the re-grounding of friendships.

I simply mean to say that there were moments when I was literally aware of an infusion of the incipient joy of God just being there and having others around me. This was intensely so in the levity and laughter, in the shared seriousness of conversation and in knowing people meant it when they asked me how I or how something with which I am connected "was." Such an awareness has not been a foreign thing there in the context of these people and I continue to learn much. This foretaste is not so much a sole possession any single faith community, but is a "gracing" (if you will) of what's to come for any one or community seeking, willing and available.

On that usual drive on I-74, I-275 and Hwy, 27 north to Oxford, I tend to wax thankful for my own community who have chosen to stick it out with me on this journey. Severely acute is the awareness of how far it is that I have yet to go, as long as God allows. I also ache a tidbit because I wish more of us could experience together the expansiveness of what God is doing outside of 1361 Dana, Oxford and beyond.

It is a downpayment of a fulfilled belongingness emanating from the place of God in which one day we will abide forever. Our experiential knowledge of it here is protracted by our extreme neediness, from things within and without our control. God sees fit and pleased to manifest his providence for such things through the fascinating contingencies of our human interrelatedness and this was evident. We share loads, undergird burdens and perform "dirty-foot works" for one another but it is not for us alone. I imagine it is practice for those we do not yet know and who are not yet part of God's kingdom. I imagine that is why we exist where we do and why we'll always have a people to "go" to regardless of where we are.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

How you know we are in November......

This is the Real Time Severe Weather graphical display for USAmerica as of 12:41am, November 15th. Red boxes are tornado watches, green-filled counties are flood-related, yellow-filled counties are severe thunderstorm warnings, blue-filled counties are high-wind advisories, white-filled counties are winter weather advisories.

U might say this is a big ol' frikkin' storm. U be right.

Wanna see some more color? Check this out sometime on Tuesday, November 15th somewhere betwixt 9am and midnite. You can do that here.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Remember this?

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Veritasian men of God maintaining the discipline of fun at- yes, church.

Thursday, October 13, 2005

Beth Price has to be one of the most talented young ladies to come through the Veritas community. So it was quite the hard thing to do to "let" her move on to that fantastic city, Boston, to continue her education back in '04.

There are indeed times in my current existence when I am bombarded with thoughts of "what the heck is this all about? have we made a difference beyond what I can see? just what is God doing?" There are dark nights in my cumbersome soul that not many know, and a lot of this flows around worth, efficacy and similar identity issues. There are pastor-types out there intimately acquainted with what I am talking about.

And, so, we celebrated three years together as a house church here at Dana (and previously Hester) and we reminisced, recollected and told stories that just attached more meaning to one another and why we do what we do.

And, we read Beth's Letter To Veritas all the way from Brighton, Mass, where we flew in April 2000 to scout out for a potential church plant. God spoke to us very clearly in Boston....that we were to be in Oxford, for Beth (unknown to us then), so she could thrive in Boston, and one day- almost five years later on a birthday celebration on Dana Drive in Oxford- speak a sustaining, healing verbal salve to my soul. All this right in the very place God turned our hearts to Oxford.

God is a master craftsman......weaving the delicate intricacies of our lives into what is going to be a tapestry of colossal beauty....the likes of which are being threaded now into a work of beauty we'll have never known.

Friday, October 07, 2005

One thing I might miss about the traditional church: Pastor Appreciation Day

Friday, September 30, 2005

If there is anything on this green/blue orb hurtling through our present cosmos that stirs me up, it is when the little technical things that are supposed to make our lives easier tear up. Things like cars......water behind the walls....computers that won't load up a game for your diversion from the previous three things. And when you know just enough to garner a bit of confidence in tackling the faltering things, it turns out it is only knowledge enough to make you dangerous enough to compound said problems.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

....the world is governed by very different personages from what is imagined by those who are not behind the scenes.

Disraeli, Conningsby

Sunday, September 25, 2005

Well, what a doozy of a willy-willy season it's been (that's what they call hurricanes in western Australia and I think I'm gonna revert to it from now on).

What can be next? But still yet, why have we had what we've had, in human terms? And when we extrapolate to the whole human experience and history.....just what does the providence of God mean in these (and other calamitous) times? What is the mode of God's providential activity? Why deliverance for some and demise for others? What of limitation, contingency factors and human freewill? And above all, what is possible in each given situation?

Any takers?

Thursday, September 22, 2005

And so, we begin again. At 897 MB, Hurricane Rita became the third most intense hurricane in Atlantic basin history, in terms of central pressure- even more so than Katrina. But this present monster I think will only be a shadow of itself by the time it makes landfall at probably a strong cat 3. It will be devastating nonetheless.

Saturday, September 17, 2005

Going to see the one and only Mission Man at the Balcony from 8-10pm tonight, who, by the way, has been a regular haunt at the Johnson household.

Saturday, September 10, 2005

Oh, sometimes I long to accelerate out of my oft-infirmed listlessness with the speed of an X-Class solar flare. And there in the nether reaches of the voids of space-time I could float- lofty and unencumbered- ignorable as I would be in my familiar vacuum of melancholic ostentatiousness.

Just a perfunctory, medullar mind poot. Move along.

Monday, September 05, 2005

Wanna BET There's Something Wrong With This Picture?

Despite the plight of these thousands of poor and recently homeless in the Gulf Coast, Black Entertainment Television has revealed its self, albeit in the shadiness of its late-night lineup.

Actually for BET, it's business as usual on Sunday, late nights. With the talk of some around the nation beginning to center upon the cries of racism dictating the relief efforts, BET is apparently unfazed, maintaining and parading a clownish triumvitrate with these, their huckster-brand of health, wealth and prosperity vultures:

Robert "Diane-Sawyer-Is-The-Devil" Tilton
Don "Lemme-Sell-You-A-33-Dollar-Prosperity-Bracelet" Stewart
Peter "Got-Caught-With-An-Earpiece-In-My-Ear" Popoff

How are these shameless money-shafting minions still given the airwaves, in light of the times? How is BET serving their audience with this chicanery? Tilton was exposed by "Primetime Live" in the early nineties and described by then Texas attorney general Dan Morales as "raping the most vulnerable segments of our society -- the poor, the infirm, the ignorant ... who believe his garbage." On his BET time block, he frequently herds in black gospel singers to legitimize his presence. Don Stewart's miracle bracelet is yours free for a love gift of at least 33 USDollars. Peter Popoff may actually be shown here with the earpiece that his wife used to funnel "divine revelations" about his audience in his ear. (For more on Petey, see here).

Even BET's director of corporate communications, Rob Santwer, said (of Tilton's program) in the piece referenced here that it was the kind of thing you'd turn the channel as soon as you'd see it. Then why pump it out?

This surely can't be on par with BET's credo toward black empowerment, can it? With these predatory poor-man's money reavers still on the loose, they aren't doing anything but holding all of us down, black, white or otherwise.

Saturday, September 03, 2005

I know the need is nerually numbing and my sensibilities can't even hug this disaster, but I don't know if I'm ready yet for these superstar-studded benefits with promos and egos almost as big as the Katrina's eyewall itself. I know it's not impossible that celebrity can help and that some may genuinely care. If it does some good, very well then. What about writing checks in secret and not affording onesself the imposed good press that comes with headlining such a spectacle grotesquely overshadowed by this specter of suffering? Why can't potential ticket buyers just go ahead and give that money to pre-existing organizations? It's still not really selfless giving, because we're getting something irretractably and absurdly mundane.....a concert. Yeah, I should lighten up and go to bed.

Wednesday, August 31, 2005

There have been 275 hurricanes that have made US landfall since 1845. Only four have been like Katrina.

Here in Oxford, the 2.72 inches of rain courtesy of the same meteorological phenomena responsible for incomprehensible devastation a few states southward provides no reference frame whereby I can fathom what has/is unfolding.

There hasn't been a natural disaster in US history that measures up to this. Insured losses- which are next to impossible to estimate- nevertheless have been estimated upwards of 25 billion dollars. Typically about 40% of people do not have insurance so expect total losses to be double that of stated insured losses.

And now the cascade effect is beginning. 9 refineries have shut down and 60% of oil rig platforms have been evacuated. Gas jumped this morning .40 to.50 cents per gallon to an average here in the Tri-State of 3.09. It is now going to cost us 50.00 to fill up the Element. However if my fool butt had a Suburban, for instance, I could shell out close to 100.00 to fill up. There is talk that some places and stations could run out of fuel by the end of this Labor Day holiday weekend. Surely gas prices will ease after the holiday.

A coworker of mine took his grandson to school in Batesville this morning and was told by a fuel station manager that the station was not going to get a tanker in after they run out. This quick of an impact on the fuel industry in the US is unprecedented. I joked before Katrina that gas would be 3.00 a gallon by Christmas. I would not be surprised if it could get to 5.00. We shall soon see.

My last post showed the Richelieu Apartment destruction and the tragedy that unfolded there. Indeed, sometimes the incapacity of the human mind to contemplate impending peril is again demonstrated in the picture below. I do not know what happened to the wedding party after this pic was taken the Saturday before the hurricane- hopefully they got out. Despite warnings and evacuations, the wedding went on in downtown New Orleans. Note the boarded windows in the background.

Sunday, August 28, 2005

Can you tell where the hurricane is?

I guess I'd put Munkebites into alert mode since everybody and their brother is.

But this is an historical thing in the making.....Katrina already has become the fourth largest/strongest in the recorded history of Atlantic basin hurricane records. Earlier Sunday, its central pressure dipped to 904 milibars and had sustained winds of 175 mph with gusts of 215 mph. By comparison, Andrew ranks 8th on that list. This is even stronger than Camille in July 1969. If it keeps this current path and strength (some fluctuations are likely), there could be a storm surge in the New Orleans area of about 20-30 feet. That would be devastating.

There is already unprecedented wording coming out of Louisiana local NWS offices. I've never seen them use words such as "devastating" in relation to a storm in my lifetime, while describing the potential for the storm to: "destroy most/all gabled roofs" in the direct damage swath; "cause high rise buildings to sway, with some collapsing possible."

There are even inland tropical storm watches for the southern central Tennessee counties below Nashville. You just don't see that often. The Ohio Valley (central and eastern mainly) could receive 2-5 inches of rain, sustained winds of around 20mph with gusts to 35mph, some sporadic power outages and localized flooding. Expect the Ohio River to rise to perhaps 35 feet in Cincy before this is all said and done. But, that is if the current models are tracking this thing right. They are not all in agreement this far out however.

I think the storm will weaken to a strong Category 4 hurricane before landing just east of New Orleans and the 12:35a.m., August 29th radar returns indicate dry air entraining into the west side of the storm, which will continue the weakening process until landfall. HOWEVER, this is still going to be an historic impact.

Already, there are rumors in Northern Kentucky with the attending runs on gas stations that gas prices are going to shoot to $4.00 per gallon. Although 20% of our useable fuel goes through the Louisiana processing areas, I don't think we'll see that big of a spike. Depending on the total aftermath, expect to see a widespread trickle-down impact across the economic structure of the country. Suffice it to say, I would not want to be building a house in the next few months, if you don't have your lumber ordered yet.

Pray for those who could not get out and pray for the sensibilities of those who, like those who chose to ride out Camille and have a hurricane party in this picture below, might perish because of their foolishness.

Tuesday, August 23, 2005


Since I like movies and writing about them, here's my site with my reviews of both current releases and DVD's. I've always been a critic of sorts and I've done some reviews over the years on Munkebites and I just wanted to be a lil' more up front with it since some folks have shown at least miniscule interest.

It's kind of hokey I know and very rudimentary, but I am gonna be working with it over time and you can let me know what you think, what I can add to it, and for you tekkie-types, you can tell me HOW to do it. Or you can sit back and laugh. But you can't stop me. The only hope you'll ever have on this planet is that I'll be contained.

Thursday, August 18, 2005

Getting Back At It

So, after a summer where I dipped my shoulder and right wrist into mountain bike hades as well as crunch up Veritas' summer intern's car on I-75 in Kentucky, I am ready for some excitement. How about pumping up Oxford's population to the tune of 15-16,000 people in some 3-4 days? about sitting in a bus when it's all happening? Dang- do I need another vacation already?

Got the community room decked with window treatments as well as a work station, so the major furnishings are in place and that edges up the excitment meter on my part.

Tomorrow, we help new frosh move in and Saturday we give away free hemp necklaces made by Veritasians at A Taste of Oxford. I don't know if they'll make it there.

The necklaces I mean.

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

And it all comes crashing down.....summer break that is.

So, the annual arrival of the driver's meeting this Thursday signals the new year. I have to say that Oxford is the most seasonal place in which I've ever lived. The academic calendar seems to govern all of our lives. It ain't no complaint.....just an obzervayshun. Got my D.O.T. fizzkull and I'm ready to alight in the saddle again.

Saturday, August 13, 2005

Well,Spen and I are back from a week in Naperville, Illinois for a conference and I am pretty sure I don't want to drive the I-80/94 corridor in south Chicago anytime soon. We had a rich and beneficial time and this time with tha SpenDoc sort of culminates our summer internship together at the Dana household. But he and his sis be moving in down the street just one house away so that will be stupendously nice.

Stoodints are returning and another season begins here and I am thinking/reflecting through what we are and should be about as a church. I'm not quite sure what that means other than some more internal transformation on my behalf to be who and what I need to be for the long haul. Some fire....some ice....but needed nonetheless.

Monday, August 08, 2005

Back from Rainsland.....and I am very thankful for their graciousness in giving us access there.

Got to engage with the Beanius and CMarsh for a couple of days and that never fails to invigorate.

The hi-lite had to have been taking the fellers into Bat Cave right off the Natural Bridge trail. Or maybe it was the Fence Lizard atop the Bridge, who- upon finally seeing me sitting beside its tree-side perch and seeing the two-headed, towering behemoth called the Marshbean approach- jumped off the tree, legs whirring mid-jump in high-gear in anticipation of a quick get-away. The little beast had not fully figured into the landing the amount of torque he was generating so that when he landed with a splat, he immediately did a two and one-half somersault in his haste, flashing us his white undercarriage in double succession and disappeared over the edge of the drop, committing what was (for me) the first ever Lizardicide. My heart sank and my jaw dropped as we looked at each other to register if what we saw was indeed what happened.

But alas......the creature did not perish, we concluded, as there was a ledge below on which he would have landed. God bless that base-jumping reptile.

Sunday, July 31, 2005

I am exasperated by the seemingly undending tirade of newsstories regarding the disappearance of yet another girl/boy/young woman. If it's not terror, global "warming," or some barrell of Middle-Eastern crude-sludge threatening to bitch slap me at the pump, it's now that if you are female, you just might disappear.

It is not that these things aren't happening. They are. It's not that there aren't horrors being committed. There are. It isn't that there aren't people hurting.

The point is that terrorization of children and women have been happening all along (yeah, even here) and now it's a more worthy news item for the major media news slop troughs. Why now all of a sudden? It isn't that these stories aren't compelling either. But considering the other hundreds and thousands who "disappear" and do not get media coverage, who is it that gets to choose who gets coverage and who doesn't? And why?

Maybe if the alphabet news channels really wanted to help, one of them would dedicate a 24-hour a day news channel solely for ALL the missing. Or could it be that some of the missing serve a greater purpose in their absence for an even more sinister agenda and that is why they get covered?

What does the reality of the Kingdom of God in our midst have to say in this culture of fear taking a bloody root in this land and in the minds of a hoodwinked populace? How does the way we live our lives and the way we experience the community of God speak hope to this? Or are we, in our present yearnings for the new emergent ideations, in danger of retreating to ecclesiastical abodes more removed and voiceless in these times and other like matters?

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Why do we relationally extend ourselves to the point of no longer being able to service some of the relationships we started? We are as unfair in such relationships as initiators/cooperators as we are unfulfilled as recipients. We hit it off, lose steam and bow out. Or we are drawn in, want to give more and we’re given the curtain call.

Sunday, July 17, 2005


Yesterday we could have been killed.

Or seriously hurt.

Or hurt…period.

But for some reason and out of all the possible outcomes available to what happened yesterday, the one most beneficial to us physically was played out. I shall try to briefly ‘splain myself in a moment.

Our (mine, Spen and Dave’s) destination on this Saturday, July 16th, was not to stand and stare in amazement at Spen’s battered vehicle in the pouring rain smack-dab in the middle of southbound Interstate 75. Indeed, mile marker 102 just south of Lexington was to uneventfully pass on by just like it had on previous caving trips that I had driven. Yet, factor in three lanes of traffic and heavy rain and a pool of water and 6 seconds of life were suspended as our late-90’s Prelude entered a “fish-tail,” wherein the rear of the vehicle loses traction and sways out of control in an eerie smoothness. We were in the left-most lane when we hit the water and it hydroplaned our rear leftward. As the car came out of the lurch, we were fifty miles per hour and angled forty-five degrees into the crowded flow of traffic (yet mercifully still in our lane). Immediately, the rear wheels caught pavement in a sick screech and violently swung the car to the left. I just went with it, which in turn slammed us further left into the concrete center guard- first the front-end and then instantly the rear left side. I remember thinking “just keep it left….keep it left.”

We skidded and sputtered to a stop and realized we were okay… least in these emerging seconds. I began imagining other motorists hydroplaning into our rear end as we were not far away from the water hazard. We still weren’t out of the woods. I started the car again and it limped forward another hundred yards, presumably to where we hoped was “greater” safety. All the while, tractor-trailers, cars and trucks with boats zoomed by undaunted by the conditions and grossly uncritical of their speed.

Unhurt, we began to assess, recollect and plot our next move. Just as we contemplated calling the police for a report, a patrolman arrived within minutes behind us, and then a fire truck. The officer commented that the several calls made about us were “sure” there were injuries. He also said most all of the wrecks like ours that he had seen end up in serious injury and, of course, even worse. We weren’t aware of how bad the car was until he told us our rear left wheel was crooked. Milling around the fairly extensive damage to the left side of this car in a three-inch deep road river helped to make the whole episode real to us I suppose.

Now I want to tell you why the computer game series, Need For Speed perhaps saved our lives.

I will first make the foundational statement that it is God whom I attribute our preservation in this incident. I don’t know if there were suspensions in the natural order of the physical world and that we were miraculously spared. I just don’t know. There weren't any overt supernatural signs pointing to angels taking over the wheel, etc. (though that would've been cool). There are several other more mundane markers of God’s providence, or a “seeing before,” to which I can point. And in the final estimation from my vantage, the compilation of these factors are just as miraculous because our survival might have hinged on Christmas day, 2003.

It was this day that my Uncle Joe gave me Need For Speed, a computer racing game programmed to be the most realistic driving game around. All the parameters of the gaming experience aim at real-time drive-and-response conditions throughout. If you jump your car or crash into a median, you feel it in your steering wheel. Conditions and reaction times are designed to mimic real world situations. I took this game home and was hooked.

I distinctly remember introducing this game to Jason, Spen’s older brother, and teaching him how to maneuver my car from the thousands of inevitable crashes and side-swipes into concrete barriers and medians so that you can control your vehicle. As foolish as this sounds, my response this day on the Interstate was the exact same response that I had taught Jason and indeed had virtually performed countless times. Every time you hit the barriers there are natural responses your car has that closely parallel the physical world. There are maneuvers you can employ to successfully “come out” of the impacts in order to stay straight....a sort of “hit-it-and-go-with-it.” The tendency for drivers to overcompensate on steering during a hydroplane or in barrier crashes is a major reason for injury and other vehicle involvement. Strangely enough, the fish-tailing, the skidding and crashing into the barrier was quite familiar. I suppose I was able to extrapolate the necessary skills from similar virtual crashes to the one we had Saturday. That’s what we joked about standing on I-75 too……”it felt like Need For Speed.”

If I think of all the contingent factors and chance factors at work in the crash and the weeks, months and years leading up to it, the mode of God’s providence starts to emerge in a fantastically creative way.

I was born into the family I had and have the uncle I have for a more apparent reason now. It is not out of the realm of possibility that God in his foresight knew the possibilities of our choosing to travel on this day, with this type of weather, with this type of car, with this type of road at this time of day with this spacing of vehicles at the time of the accident onset. You pair that with the free-will choices of the people to be on the road at the time they were, their driving skills, attentiveness, etc., and you compound the contingent factors that could have made this outcome different should any of these factors be altered.

Our emergence from this accident began one and one-half years ago when Uncle Joe gave me Need For Speed. I don’t think it is totally implausible to say that God’s providential activity bears out in this way- in the seemingly frivolous, mundane matters of our lives. Through our complex, interconnected human relationships and human freewill, he weaves together his providential and protective care like a master craftsman, weaving all the intricate threads into the stories of our lives. Most of the time, we aren't cognizant of these activities because we are always on the lookout for the "immediate miraculous." God is not God simply because he can do the miraculous. He is the Abba Father whose "thereness" on a rainy interstate on a busy Saturday afternoon began December 25th, 2003.

Sunday, July 03, 2005

Just an update here.....

I am languishing under the impact my 221 lb. frame endured last Thursday whilst mountain biking in Hueston Woods. We were going down a grade when we happened upon an embedded log laying perpendicular to the single-track trail. To me, it looked halfway jumpable, as there was only a drop of about 2 feet followed by another jump much smaller.

Well, tha SpenDoc walked down it and I had intentions of doing the same but I had to teach my younger protege how it was to be done. I went back up the trail so I could speed up my approach. I pedaled down and skidded to a stop just short of the jump.....I should have listened to my gut right then and there.

SpenDoc had already positioned himself so he could "see this." I made my second attempt and determined I was going to do it.

What happened next was all quick and time-suspended altogether. I did not get any "air" so that made my front tire go straight down. That in turn flung me over my handlebars and I landed on my left shoulder and skidded. That was simultaneously the stupidest thing and the most painful thing I've done in a while.

I had to walk the bike off the trail, onto the road and ride back to trail head with one arm. That sucked a bit.

And to top that Black Thursday off, I was attepmting to light my grill later that night and it wasn't happening the first few tries. After turning everything off again and waiting briefly, I hit the light button and became the center of an orange propane fire ball that promptly singed off my right eyelashes, forearm and digital hair. I smelled insane. But I survived. Again.

And, no, I did not go to the Dr. I am giving it a few days to see how I heal. If anything crazy persists/starts, then I shall be off.

(Although I am not a doctor, I play one on the internet).

-Deep Contusion/Grade 1 Sprain To Left Clavicle With Attendant Abrasions On Shoulder
-Bruised Sternum
-Bruised/Sprained (Grade 1)5th Right Metacarpal
-Bruised/Sprained (Grade 1) Hamate, Lunate and Triquetral Ligaments

Friday, June 24, 2005

There are things to which we are called that are not possible by our own nature or our individualistic aspirations.

Sunday, June 19, 2005

While I am currently experiencing blog mania, I'll try this too (though I am wanting to forget)....


What do you do when your mother.....who is having to navigate her way through the tangly details of settling her mother's estate......tells you your younger brother has just been arrested for arson- the same drug-addicted brother on a progressively self-destructive path who had dropped out of his "Christian" high school a month before he was to graduate to get married? The same one who has an infant child.....who has been homeless a few times, "disappearing" for weeks with his druggie circles and showing up in homeless shelters all by age 18? And all this in the last year?

This saga with my younger brother has been going on now for the better part of a year and it doesn't get any more bizarre (well, I guess it could on second thought). It is quite eerie to be awakened to the panicked voice of another mother of a wayward child in your own mother's house early on the morning after my Granny had passed. My mother didn't need to have this upon her. I knew that this unfortunate chance encounter between these two women had my brother to blame. This crumpled stranger imploring about the whereabouts of her daughter to my mother could not bring her daughter back- wherever she was.

This is only one cog in this still-rolling, still slipping gear that is my brother's young and downwardly-mobile life. The stories are numerous, but this episode congealed it's crazy reality in the most macabre juxtaposition to an equally paramount transition in our family. And it really doesn't take much to vibrate the indented strands of pain already embedded in our family. It didn't have to get to this, thank you.

Being this far removed had its obvious advantages of course. But you are never really can just live under any such delusion if they choose. But I really want to know how I enter into this.

My brother didn't start just any old fire on any old place, it was the trailer his teenage ex-wife and infant daughter lived in (incidentally, I don't believe they were in the structure). I- we- really want to know how to simultaneously love a person and despise an action so tied to a person. I can get over not being able to see my mother because she had to visit with estate lawyers and communicate with her son's jailers. I'm not sure I can rightly categorize the memory of having to tell my mother to leave his ass in jail and not bail him so he can begin to decide if this is the life he wants. My mother is "there" and ready to do this, but I know I'll never understand the connection between a mother and child nor ever fully appreciate the stamina it must take to submit one's flesh and blood to the dire consequences.

Maybe the next time I see my brother will be in prison. Maybe that is the way it should be.

For now.


Do you ever wonder if you push the limits in your relationships?

Ever try to step outside yourself to try to see if you are really the buffoon you suspect you can be at times?

Can the "class clown" syndrome of one's youth ever appropriately carry on into adulthood?

Do you ever fear if you are exhausting to people sometimes because you enjoy them so much?

Are funny people liked and are desired to be around mainly because they are funny and make others laugh?

Ever wonder what it is that people really see in you?

Is acerbic wit detrimental to a kingdom mentality?

Is comedic prowess simply the obverse persona of a true melancholic?

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Here in Tennessee......on the last leg of our vacation to the North Carolina mountains. The camping was excessively wet (it rained 2-3 times a day- no kidding), but enjoyable with my father/stepmother joining us. Stayed in a bed/breakfast the last day there in Franklin,NC and found some cool eateries and local dives. And the annual drive on the Blue Ridge Parkway was windy, foggy and rainy and you couldn't see nuthin' (presuming said nuthin' was there to be seen).

Kinda ready to be back home tho. We still have to see some pipples still yet.

BTW, my blog seems to be loading kind of funky-like with my pic at the bottom of the page and no links (could be my momma-in-law's puter). Any one else getting the same?

Tuesday, May 31, 2005

Just buried my Granny this weekend and learned a lot about my family. There was the requisite weirdness, ongoing estrangements, reunitings.....but I had some quality time with my mother and other family members despite the circumstances. Now that Granny is gone, I may have seen the last of their house. So much of what I know of my family and my identity is wrapped in that physical space on Valley View Drive in north Knoxville. So on we go.

Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Yeah....cyberspheric absenteeism abounds here. And even in some of my peeps that I run with. An excellent ensample am I (how 'bout some Middle English for ya?).

Busy. Aren’t we all just that? Aren’t we agendized to the max? I mean, I’m having a love jones for a smartphone right now because I think it’s gonna make my life more manageable. I justify it because my phone is toying with me and my Sony Clie SJ-30 died a miserable and taunting death weeks ago. That’s what I get for being a suckling tethered to the tremendous technological teat central to our society.

Busyness is the devil’s home-boy. Pastor-types are the best to hitch up with hurry for succor because of our unhealed need-to-be-needed syndrome. Arguably, the ONLY real difference in this way between being a pastor in the establishment church and being one in the simple/organic realm is the number of people potentially available to impose upon our relational resources and thereby feed our ego needs and depleted affirmation reserves. Validation is the fake payoff for busyness.

Relational sacrifices have, can and will be made. We choose and we un-choose. It is all risk, pure and simple. What often goes unspoken are the expectations of those in these relationships. Some inevitably assign more worth to the relationship than others and it is entirely possible that some can find what they need elsewhere. But who determines that? Who gets to define the relationship? True, there are seasons where relational spheres overlay. But if God be the mover and we move on, so be it. But if by negation we neglect what we had, was what we had mere novelty among the others we pursue?

I think I will tend to be draining and somewhat selfish with this perspective. I understand that. I am a relational mutt. I am a commitment junkie… part because of familial history. I am a communication freak. I know most often how, when and where it’s needed but I do often suck at it where it really counts. I am realizing that I need a constant relational frame of reference to battle a persistent nostalgic/melancholic tendency that permeates my relational foundations and current efforts. I need to know that the tribes I choose are the ordinations of God…..and I know that’s not fair. I emerged from one that at times seemed to be ordained by despair. To know that I can choose and abide with a people is a revolutionary paradigm for me.

I will push the edges in my need for mileposts on my relational journeys. They are not there for retreat-----ever. They are to show me where I’ve been. But sometimes people are slow or they just don’t clarify that the milepost is their own exit sign. That always aches too familiar.

So enuff with the needy-bleedy stuff.

Got a new WalMart Stuporcenter in O-town. You walk in- it doesn’t even FEEL like you’re in Oxford anymore. Tell me that a place like that which can impose upon your spatial sense of reality isn’t spiritual. From miles around, we will pay monetary homage weekly to this retail demigod. I was there today momentarily and was awash with the giddiness to get, to buy…to consume. So I bought my stuff and ran shrieking, “get thee behind me Walton!!”

Sunday, May 15, 2005

My weekend started prematurely with an urgent call from my mother. My Granny, who is battling in the final throes of pulmonary fibrosis, was on the verge between this world and the next.

So, off we went, to spend the next few days by her bedside. We have been preparing for this time, but you are never "ready." I wasn't ready for her to clear the rest of the family from the hospital room in order to speak to me alone. As she urges me close, I hang over this strong-willed yet loving matriarch and she proceeds to give me her last wishes regarding the funeral and things thereafter. It was just too surreal when your most available memories of your Granny are of how she's the coolest Granny in the whole world because she runs the toy department at K-Mart. She always had the best gifts at Christmas. She had the kind of love that as a grandchild, you found it impossible not to immerse yourself totally in it. That is what I think of as I'm draped over her crumpled, oxygen-starved body trying to discern her words.

We thought that Thursday was going to be the Day. But my Granny told me the next day that she asked God to take her while she was choking for breath. She heard him say "no....not yet."

There is a "grace unto dying." I think I am seeing it bear out here some, but I have seen it in the past. It seems to me that God bends "nearer" during this transitioning, bestowing a measure of his presence to his dying child and those who love them. It sustains, enables, energizes and incarnates even if it doesn't miraculously heal. My Granny will not get better. Granny knows that. Even God knows that. This is not faithless defeatism. This grace is allowing my Granny to fashion her farewells in ways that others do not have. There are still rifts in our family that need mending and if we watch how my Granny is learning to die in this grace, I think there is the availability of healing for those who persist here on earth. We're talking about a deep history of relational fragmentation here too, but it can happen if we want it.

Sunday, May 08, 2005

Now that my driving skejjul has abated, I am now free to do......more work. At home, at the Lootherun church, at various and sundry other things that have escaped my attention in the recent past.



I remain sufficiently reminded of how sweet my life is. I love the people around me.

Tuesday, May 03, 2005

Please go to Palmer's blog and pray through the needs he's listed there if you would. His surgery is in 2 days.

As I was pulling away from my layover today towards the end of my shift, I noticed one last straggling student wanting my bus who could see me pulling away, but was not expending any effort to make haste. Because we bus drivers pride ourselves on keeping the route on time -(trans., staying on time is next to impossible)- we are not desirous of that behavior. It in fact appeared he was nursing a bum extremity of some sort.

Not yet miffed, being finals week and all, I only looked at him quizzically as he boarded with his cargo (as did the 7 or 8 other passengers).

"I wasn't about to run.......I just ran a marathon."

Then I had to ask.

"....the Flying Pig, right?"

We spent the next 10 minutes talking about how it was his first marathon (I know it was officially a half marathon). He proceeded to tell me about his training for it, how he'd called his mom (who never exercised by the way) who agreed to run it with him. Here's the cool thing....she finished absolutely dead last out of the 6-7000 runners/walkers. He had to carry her into the restaurant later on. That was a neat story.

I told him about Marsh running for Palmer and the whole bus stopped their conversations and tuned in for the few minutes we talked about it.

That was even cooler.

Saturday, April 23, 2005

Yeah, well, so much for the severe weather- at least in MY locale. So what there was a tornado touchdown an hour west of us here. So what there was hail covering the ground in Hamilton.....20 minutes from here. So what that we didn't get enough sun to stir things up in the atmosphere here. So what we got a bunch of piddly rain and a little puff of wind. So what they got hail back in my stomping grounds in Tennessee. It doesn't flippin' bother me one chunkin' iota.


Thursday, April 21, 2005

This is the Thursday afternoon NWS forecast discussion for the severe potential for SW Ohio on Friday, April 22nd, 2005. The words "rotating, shear and veering" in the same sentence get me hot and sassy this time of year.....well anytime of year akshully. The highlighted text.... compliments of yours truly.





For those of you who haven't been to Palmer's blog in a while, I suggest you go and inform yourself on the dastardly determination by his health sharing group. That is why I have included the Paypal icon to the right in case you might want to donate to their impending health care costs.

I am praying that there will be more than "something" out there and it will more than suffice in defraying the bills and allow for a dignified standard of life. Is that too much to ask?

Monday, April 11, 2005

Saw my father, stepmother and grandmother off today after they spent the weekend with us here. This really was a special time for me to have them here with us. I don't get to see them a lot and this is the first time my father has visited me since I graduated seminary in '95. It made me ache for more time with them. It made me cogently aware of choice and sacrifice. I did manage to relish the fleeting time though.

I am reminded tonight of the richness of journeying with and abiding with a people. Receiving the reports of some major healing God has done in one life and hearing the impassioned pleas for the same hope from another on behalf of her brother. Rejoicing and taking on another desperate situation. Soul-stories and life lines laid bare and trusting one another in the directions our lives are taking. It's sweet to see the communal submission we are growing into as we mature.

Onward, weeping, kneeling, wailing, imparting wise words, encouraging and girding up our collective loins as we continue to run this race. And what a joy it is to run it together. I have so many conscientious, servant-minded people whom I call my spiritual extended family that I can't even begin to count the joys of having so many brothers and sisters.

Footballs in trees
The Jaylord flees
Sisters on their knees

Brownies in the bowl
A young man in the fold
Cords tied to his soul

Joe's come back
To a party out back
Now what's to lack?

On this good night
With friends so tight
The Kingdom in sight.

Friday, April 08, 2005

Babes and Buses

.....not THOSE kinds of babes, now.

Thank God for the wee ones....the tots and toddlers, who never fail to come through when a certain mass transit professional has had a day of jaywalkers and joyriders test his patience. It doesn't matter what these little ones are doing, either being drug through the uptown by a parent's hand to who knows where or playing in the park on the stone animals or waiting by the crosswalk with the big people in tow for the signal to go.

They see me....well they see my bus.....okay, Hamilton Tours' bus.....and the world stops. Eyes go crazy-round, fingers point my way (not the usual other finger I get from those 18+ years their senior) and mouths go agape. It does not matter to the child if there are more important things like another bite of cheeseburger or crossing a busy intersection. This is a big white bus and it rules their world. At least for 6 or 7 seconds. Those fleeting windows into joy and amazement, no matter how vicarious and trivial, are welcome. At least I have made someone happy.

So what if they can't spell "bus."

Thursday, April 07, 2005

My pops, stepmother and Granny Ruth- the gracious woman who took my sister and I in at age 13- are coming up to visit us this weekend. Been a long time coming and it'll be great and weird at the same time. Totally looking forward to it.

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

Got my weather station up......this house is now a home, thanks to tha Doc, who- by the way- needs to freekin blog again. Got 1.93 inches of rain to greet it, too (sump pump=not happy). Promptly had dream about a tornado.......bring on the severe wx.

Getting to know a swell guy and his family at Dana too....... Ken Hall is a great artist who also incorporates tornadic themes into his artwork. This man must have a special place in the Kingdom just for that.

Saturday, March 26, 2005

Method Acting In The Virtual Revolution

DeNiro does it well.....immersing himself into his roles so much so that he alters himself physically by losing/gaining weight so as to best convey his character. As one of the consummate method actors of our generation, he arguably has been one of the best at entering into the totality of the character's life.

As one of the proponents of "doing" church "simply"- (i.e., no buildings, no staff, no overhead, greater intimacy/relational connection, seeing God do some crazy-good things, depth and flexibility, meeting wherever you want/can...etc.)- I often muse over where I actually live my life's the incomparable successes, experiences and connections of my peers online OR in the real world, (wherever that may be right now)?

Ever feel like you're in a dinghy in the immerjing church blogosphere whilst others unfurl plush multi-masted sails? Ever feel like you just don't measure up?

Am I living or just performing?

Maybe I should just relax.

Let me say this..........I want to and will follow what is happening on the cyberspheric front as we explore new ways of communication that technological advancement is affording us. I acknowledge that it has been an impetus for my personal growth and maturity. But as one new thing comes around the bend and gets linked-to or blogged-about, there it is....the subtle pressure to jump on, to measure up, to be "with" it. To not get left behind.

Have I subtly replaced the past drive to achieve/arrive/perform in the old ecclesiastical setup with a new to achieve/arrive/perform in this cyberspheric form of this ecclesial revolution? To be the one to pump out the next mind-bending blog, article or tool?

(You know I know this is MY aren't causing this. I am responsible for what I do with what goes on inside of me).

Am I too busy trying to contruct my personhood ONLINE while sacrificing something of myself off it? I sometimes can't even muster the effort to maintain a worthy blog because I see it as a discipline, but from the vantage of my UN-discipline. I struggle with finding the equilibrium of electronic connectivity. Sometimes I do fear I am too wired-in, driven by the lust of conceptual image-brokering.

And are we just going to be reduced to that? Is this the destiny of at least this part of our being- that, as the conceptual image-smiths riding the initial crest of the revolutionary wave, we'll only have it fold in over and upon itself once the media machine learns the language/images of the revolution (as they are doing)?

How often will we have to linguistically reinvent ourselves and our "image" (intended or not) for the sake of the revolution? And is the revolution's online presence the same as the one in the neighborhoods?

But I know the ones I run with who talk about this stuff. They live it. Their lives are the treatise upon which everything they say stands. Some can argue as to whether or not anything is emerging and can make a worthy case one way or another. But I have chosen to engage in this revolution unashamedly. Truly, my notion of "church" has revolved (and still stands ready to). I thirst for the simple, disciplined forms that create and nurture growth in community, but not as a rehashing, but in a way that is appropriate for our frame of reference, or context.

And I think I suffer from a warpage of cyberspace/time. Can my experience of the Kingdom be on the same timetable and be spatially equal with someone else's on my computer screen, as they report it? These are reports of past events after all (or they are hopes or aspirations of/for things to come). My experience of the Kingdom of God becomes relative to yours. I know what it is because you and I experience something similar. But as denizens of the net, we have so many temptating choices to focus on regarding our frame of reference. But, at the risk of sounding too simplistic (as I know it is true), our only frame of reference can be Christ. Digital transmissions and arranged photons cannot be the ultimate measure of my being.

While most of the inspiration for the revolution is bred online, nothing but the substantiation of local face-to-face interaction can satisfy. Virtual reproductions cannot suffice alone.

Thank God my regional proteges, my spiritual mentors, friends and faith community- most of whom have an online persona- have made themselves relationally available and often go to great lengths to be present to each other.

Nothing new here, just a caution thrown toward the spirit of technological inevitabalism poised on the corners of the Kingdom.

Sunday, March 13, 2005

Thanks to those of you who responded to my questions re: townie-ism and students residential status. For those of you who didn't and should have, may all your children be born bald and toothless.

Just got back from a Veritasian Wells Cave trip.....hopefully pics to come. Very nice trip with some very good budding cavers. This is all Veritas really is.....a front organization to funnel in brand new cavers into the caving population. Those of you who were suspicious all along.....there....I said it. Can't fool you anymore.

Anticipating how I am going to spend spring break while simultaneously comprehending the moment fast approaching wherein I'll wonder where this time went.

Wednesday, February 23, 2005


I read about or hear you talk often about why it sucks to live in Oxford and why it is or has been hard to make the relational connections you need. For some, it may not be as bad all the time or even any of the time.....regardless, I welcome your commentary.

This is something about you I care for deeply and I want to learn more as to why it is like this for you. So consider this an exercise in learning for me. Lay it on me. I want this to be an open and honest forum for you to even vent if you need to so konw that no one will rail against you for your feelings.

These ?'s are for starters.....feel free to comment on the topic as you wish.

STUDENTS: Why has it been hard for you to make significant relationships? What is it about Oxford that hinders this? What should faith communities do to enable relationship building that is not solely entertainment-based and superficial? What are you learning about yourself in your current struggles with relationships?

TOWNIES: So what's the official definition of an Oxford here 5+ years? Maybe you've been a student at Miami or grew up here, but now you find yourself still here, trying to make a living. Where is the city failing you? What is the best and worst thing about living here? Why do you think so many young adult townies long for better things elsewhere? Is this place really God-forsaken if you have nothing to do with the university? Where can a faith community make a difference?

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Quite an amazing time praying for Palmer and Amy Saturday. If ever there was a time when a gathering was "pregnant" with the possibility and hope of God, it was that night. (Check Chris Marshall's blog for a good recap).

Confronting the evils of dire physical sickness calls us to face mysterious, coexisting realities. Christ has indeed secured victory in its fulness by His death, burial and resurrection. We are more than conquerors and if He has everything under foot, what part of "everything" has not been included? When the enemy rears from the flanks, perhaps his greatest ploy is to tinker with our perception of the Christus Victor and lure us into thinking we are fighting him as if he were an equal or somewhere near that. By definition, you can only engage in a battle with an opponent who is worthy, if not equal to the task. The enemy is formidable, but is no longer an equal foe. We ought to continue to storm his encampment and proclaim our victory and become a fool and believe God. Does Jesus not have the keys to that realm from which the chaos of sickness originates and do we not have the name and authority to not only come against it, but to preside over it? Think of the ramifications upon all of the created order in our time and space (and any others). There is NOTHING that can prevail against the Christ, within or without the body.

Yet the fight Palmer faces may indeed feel like a battle. On the cellular level, there is indeed warfare. We still must be compelled somehow into living in this tension of the Kingdom reality in prolepsis.....come but not yet. Rest assured.....the Kingdom of the living God has "come enough" into this world to garner the healing freedom of Palmer's body. Watch and see.

Saturday, February 19, 2005

I dunno if anyone noticed or not, but my conversion to this Man of Sorrows is still ongoing. My self-efforts will always be a balancing act over the pit of extremism. I am still a man not shocked enough by my capacity for evil/selfishness.

I remain increasingly convinced that there need be a revolution to refire in my heart because I cannot transcend myself. Maybe I pitched a tent and the revolution moved on over the horizon. I can still see the smoke.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

As many of my readers already know, our friend and brother Mark Palmer is facing cancer. This is an open letter of encouragement to Mark and his family. As you read, be reminded to pray unceasingly for Mark, Amy and Micah.

Please leave a note of encouragement to him here or on his blog to let him know you are praying.

Mark you have been a source of joy and inspiration to us. Words fail to fully show that.

Mark, Veritas is regularly keeping you before our God in prayer. We have alerted our network of prayer partners to join us in this effort. We may not be able to fully enter this garden with you, but we are and will be awake at the gate. We will keep watch and stand with you and for you all in this. As you know Mark, let us know how- in any way- we can show you our love in this time.

Father, unfold your healing mercy upon Mark. Bind him together with Amy and Micah as you release the deep hope of the coming fulness of your Kingdom realized in Mark's body. Surprise them with the freeing joy of each new day and punctuate the living moments with the reality of your abiding presence. Unload the storehouse of strength, pour out the unceasing reserves of resources needed and surround Mark and Amy with advisors infused with the wisdom of God as they make the medical decisions necessary for healing. Our hearts shall evermore be gladdened by our trust in the One Who is more than able to ascend above and beyond our cries here.

Saturday, February 12, 2005

Awritey......who's up for another late-nite drunk run?

.....why am I the only one raising my hand?

Please, please PUH-LEEEEZ no puke-a-zoids.

Friday, February 11, 2005

Just had a lovely dinner with my wife at Buffalo Wild Wings in Hamilton.

Only that this BW3 is now being patrolled by a policeman. Seems management wants to curb teen raucousness and maintain a family atmosphere. Twas interesting to pack away a chicken sandwich under armed guard.

.....cuz heaven help to know where to start.

Thursday, February 10, 2005

I did not give up anything for Lent.

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Doggone diggity freekin' sweetness in all of it's flippitude......Dave FINALLY be bloggin!!!

Monday, February 07, 2005

I made it through my next-to-last drunk run Saturday with one last one in the wings this weekend. I got through w/o anyone hurling so I was a happy driver. I hope for so much this next time around.

Friday, February 04, 2005

I'm pretty sure people don't understand pastor/planter-types. They have no idea that the most miniscule of complaints levied toward us, even though no ill-will was intended, contains a pesky barb of hurt. Granted, their issues carry the weight of their own sentiments but they assume they can simply release them your way in a kind of fire-and-forget mode. They forget that what they verbally assail is inextricably linked to the whole of your: calling, vocation, locale, economic and social status, home, relational availability and future aspirations that are fundamentally for the betterment of them and others outside of yourself.

I don't know if it's a challenge for you, but I find how I receive critiques (baseless or worthy) has the potential to reveal a blind side to my character, so I'm willing to lissin nonetheless to them and to what my defensiveness says about me. And I go from there.

I've thought about it for as long as I been a pastor so I'm just still ain't easy, no matter what ecclesial structure you're in.

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

Well, it is official....I am ready for the spring severe weather season, being that I just had my first tornado dream of the year last night. It was pure, unadulterated tornadic sweetness with multiple funnels gettin' it on here in Oxford and myself actually documenting on video. Cars hurling, buildings splintering, tornadogenesis with me being right there for it. Our local access channel was even running my video non-stop and people were asking me all about what was going on and of course, I was filling them in.

Now, I don't wish the above on anyone in the real tornado-less world in which I abide. It's just in lah-lah land I can have all I've ever wanted to see and no one gets hurt.

Now- (a la Saint Alantious Creechosporous the Lexingtonian)- here's 4.7 things about me and meteorology you did not know....

  • I Have Over 30 Weather-Related Videos
  • I Was Going To Go To Florida State University To Get My Meteorology Degree & Then Do A Master's In Severe Thunderstorm Morphology
  • I Have A Digital Weather Station and I Do My Own Forecasting
  • Cathy and I Are Trained National Weather Service Severe Weather Spotters (Wherein We Are Provided A NWS Private Line To Report Severe Weather)
  • I Got Ridiculed In 8th Grade For My Interest In Weather

Sunday, January 30, 2005

Life slinks its way onward here and meanwhile I have been finding other things to do than blog, which sux for the quintillions who frequent this spot.

Luckily, this blog is buttressed by a better bevy of bloggers, linked to the right. I refer you to them whilst I await a good word.

Saturday, January 22, 2005


Okay, for allyall who are feeling jaded by the failed forecast of this latest round of non-existant severe winter weather for SW Ohio, here's a lil bit of mea culpa from the National Weather Service office in Wilmington, Ohio on the Forecast Discussion section this morning regarding the forecast for Wednesday-Thursday.....


Saturday, January 08, 2005

Had a refreshing time at the Hut that is Pizza with tha Jaylord today. Not only is he a great friend....a compadre......he is a brother on this journey and that makes this all worthwhile.

Well, the stated law of God dictates we feast at the holy Mocha de la Joe's for our meetings but I have pronounced that wretched place an anathema, until such time that they begin to seat me in a timely manner, stop coming back to you after you order and tell you "we ran out of that today" three times and stop having to tell their customers, "I'm sorry, but......." It's a has such great potential. The J'lard warned me eons ago but like a watchful momma for her wayward son, I held out hope.

Wednesday, January 05, 2005

Though you can't see it, 3 of the entrances to the 55th longest cave in the United States is in the center of the picture. We will be going in one of them in less than seven hours from this post. We will not, however, traverse the total 11.5+ miles of mapped passageway in Wells Cave down in central Kaintuckee. By jove, we'll not be stopped trying tho. Wish you could come.

Saturday, January 01, 2005

Oh, and by the way, Zach brought his family up from Tennessee to visit. This is him playing "preacher" earlier tonight. I wonder what God might be up to.

While at my mother-in-law's, I was wading through several toddler-nephews just to get to my room after a shower. Two of my nephews were on the way down the stairs to the basement, obviously in a game of make-believe. I think they were playing "heaven," or "God" or something. Zach, the eldest and standing at the top of the stairway, was God (it appeared) and the youngest nephew was the human at the bottom of the stairs on earth. As I turned into my room, I heard God-Zach reassure his lowly human creation below, "Hold on.....I'm coming down to you!!!"

Somehow, somewhere, he got it.

Why do we have to be invaded with the Divine Presence when to them, it flows effortlessly? Where did we lose that?