Here it comes, fast and simple:
The football team has gone on a tear and will be playing at BC Place stadium on December 2nd at 10:30am for the BC High School Football AA JV provincial title!! Important note: they are the defending champions, so getting back to the title game is a big deal... Coach P (head coach - 73 years old) said today that if you told him back in spring camp that we'd be getting ready this week for the championship game, he'd have told you you were dreaming! He then proceeded to tell us that he had declared to his wife that it'd be a short season this year and he'd have tons of extra time in November for her...well, we're still playing and don't finish til December 2!! Sorry Mrs. Coach P.. ; )
I have been incredibly blog averse these last couple months because I have adopted (or more accurately, renewed) a different internet habit that has taken up tremendous amounts of my browsing time. Now, I don't know if you're like me (maybe yes, maybe no), but I'm not a big internet guy for the most part. I think it's like talking on the phone: it has its good purposes, but I don't want to spend more time on it than I have to. So, I love reading others' blogs and enjoy the creative acts of writing and trying to make the blog look better...yet I found myself unable to sustain the creative efforts and maintain my desired standards (oooooooo so high :P ), leaving me no choice but to withdraw. A blogrecluse. A bloghermit. [cool looking word: bloghermit... could be pronounced so many ways... bah-log-her-mitt...bah-logger-mitt...bah-loffer-mitt...so fun]
The renewed habit is eBay. AAAAAARRRRGGGHGHHHH. I really don't like garage sales, but I think it's not because of the high ratio of crap to treasure... after two months of eBay, I realize I can wade through tons of crap and come out happy... it's because of the travel time associated with it. The internet (and eBay) have created a massive, worldwide garage sale that is on constantly and all you have to do is find your treasure! Awesome! So I'm out there searching for my treasure when I should be faithfully updating my blog. Sorry about that.
Now, I want to be clear that I'm not randomly searching for great deals of any kind out there in the e-world...I have goals. Nerdy goals. Geeky goals. But goals nonetheless! Not the goals of a football coach or a "cool" youth worker, just a dork. I'm looking for G.I. Joe comics. 'Nuff said.
If you want to see what kind of a task I'm up against, check this out.
28.11.06
1.11.06
End Result
To make a long story short, Snitchy Switchy is now a part of a coaching team one member to the lesser. After said event (see last post) and an in-game explosion, my fellow coach was essentially asked to cease coaching the team this season. It's more developed than that, but it is what it is.
We lost the "explosion" game by the score of 21-20. Since then (with more staff unity and peace), our team has gone 3-0 with decisive wins over every team we've played. It's been pretty incredible (two 40+ point shutout victories)....
I don't want to belabor this event in my life, but I thought you might like to hear a little bit of resolution. :)
We lost the "explosion" game by the score of 21-20. Since then (with more staff unity and peace), our team has gone 3-0 with decisive wins over every team we've played. It's been pretty incredible (two 40+ point shutout victories)....
I don't want to belabor this event in my life, but I thought you might like to hear a little bit of resolution. :)
5.10.06
Snitchy Switchy
I was thinking today, "Okay Brent, your nickname is Switch right? If you ratted out someone, you could be Switch the Snitch...not a bad 30s gangster name for a ratfink. If we followed a futuristic, sci-fi kinda theme, you could go with Swytch the Snych...oooooohhhhh, except 'snych' looks too much like sync(with an 'h') and people would get that wrong all the time..."
"Hey Brent, why they call you Switch the Synch(sink)?"
I sigh.....
Okay, so I thought about this cause I think I became a snitch! Sort of innocently, telling a story I thought was silly, I ratted out someone who will pay the price for my story! The story is true, mind you, and the price paid is due to an assortment of infractions of which my story is merely the last straw...but that would still make me a snitch! A rat! NO WAY!!!!!
I've been coaching a high school football team this year. It's a grade 9/10 team and it is really fun! The head coach is an older fellow (73/74 - somewhere in there) and has coached longer than I've been alive so there is lots to learn! One of my fellow coaches was a former player of the older fellow and thus respects him a ton. Nevertheless, he was what we might call 'an independent type.' Despite his respect for the head coach, he tended to do his own thing and perhaps sent some mixed messages to the players, thoroughly confusing these newbies (many first timers to organized football). That had him on the hotseat.
Said coach also has a bit of a temper and flared up many times during our half a season so far. Occasionally, his ire would fall on the right culprit at the right time yet too often it fell upon unwitting, innocent victims. This also had him in the hotseat (with parents and other coaches).
My story, you ask? What was this yellow fiber that caused the C4 and C5 vertebrae of the desert mammal to finally fracture? Well, following practice, said coach gathered the players around him to speak. Looking straight at me, he said, "Do you mind going?" To which I responded "ME?" I was surprised that a fellow coach would request such a thing in front of the players...unless he was going to come out of that huddle with a birthday cake and a song for me...
"Yeah, coach, could you go?" he repeated - which prompted a Nelson-esque "HA HA" from the starting quarterback as I walked away.
Curious as to why I would be asked to leave, I asked said coach why he chose such a course of action. His response: "I knew I was going to be off-color, so I didn't think you'd appreciate it."
He knew I work in the church and am a Christian, so he was merely being polite. Nice guy I suppose....
Except this is a high school football team, so if you think I wouldn't like to hear it, why would you tell it to the team (of 14-15 year old boys)? I was a little concerned, so I told my story to the other coaches (who weren't there at the time) and that was it... I became a snitch.
I wasn't telling on the guy. But isn't that always what snitches say?
Yeah, well, I'm a big boy and I suppose I can handle an expanded nickname...sigh.
"Hey Brent, why they call you Switch the Synch(sink)?"
I sigh.....
Okay, so I thought about this cause I think I became a snitch! Sort of innocently, telling a story I thought was silly, I ratted out someone who will pay the price for my story! The story is true, mind you, and the price paid is due to an assortment of infractions of which my story is merely the last straw...but that would still make me a snitch! A rat! NO WAY!!!!!
I've been coaching a high school football team this year. It's a grade 9/10 team and it is really fun! The head coach is an older fellow (73/74 - somewhere in there) and has coached longer than I've been alive so there is lots to learn! One of my fellow coaches was a former player of the older fellow and thus respects him a ton. Nevertheless, he was what we might call 'an independent type.' Despite his respect for the head coach, he tended to do his own thing and perhaps sent some mixed messages to the players, thoroughly confusing these newbies (many first timers to organized football). That had him on the hotseat.
Said coach also has a bit of a temper and flared up many times during our half a season so far. Occasionally, his ire would fall on the right culprit at the right time yet too often it fell upon unwitting, innocent victims. This also had him in the hotseat (with parents and other coaches).
My story, you ask? What was this yellow fiber that caused the C4 and C5 vertebrae of the desert mammal to finally fracture? Well, following practice, said coach gathered the players around him to speak. Looking straight at me, he said, "Do you mind going?" To which I responded "ME?" I was surprised that a fellow coach would request such a thing in front of the players...unless he was going to come out of that huddle with a birthday cake and a song for me...
"Yeah, coach, could you go?" he repeated - which prompted a Nelson-esque "HA HA" from the starting quarterback as I walked away.
Curious as to why I would be asked to leave, I asked said coach why he chose such a course of action. His response: "I knew I was going to be off-color, so I didn't think you'd appreciate it."
He knew I work in the church and am a Christian, so he was merely being polite. Nice guy I suppose....
Except this is a high school football team, so if you think I wouldn't like to hear it, why would you tell it to the team (of 14-15 year old boys)? I was a little concerned, so I told my story to the other coaches (who weren't there at the time) and that was it... I became a snitch.
I wasn't telling on the guy. But isn't that always what snitches say?
Yeah, well, I'm a big boy and I suppose I can handle an expanded nickname...sigh.
7.9.06
Digital...
So I'm a musician with an album to sell...
I'm a worship song writer with songs to share with the church...
I'm a guy who's made an investment and wants to see a return...
I'm an unknown that needs exposure...
I feel as though the issues created by the digital movement will never be fully resolved, but they're not new! People have always been able to copy music they've never paid for (as long as there has been music to purchase, with the exception of phonograph records I suppose -which means they've been able to copy music since the invention of tape recording with 8-tracks...I digress) and that's only been escalated with the onset of the digital revolution.
I remember seeing Lars Ulrich (drummer from Metallica), Dr. Dre (you know who he is, admit it) and a host of suit guys debating on CNN about the availability of music (free music) created by Napster. Was it ethical? Was it fair to the artists? What about the record companies? What about the distributors, the record stores, the workers at the music stores? It just keeps flowing along, affecting people across the board. And this was 5 years ago...
Do you remember Napster? This was the first famous virtual network designed to share files worldwide on the internet. Created by Northeastern University student Shawn Fanning in the 90's as a way to promote a music community, he was taken to court by the RIAA (Recording Industry Association of America) who claimed that this type of file sharing (music files) was illegal and circumvented copyright laws. Well, as expected, those with the $$ won the legal battle. This was not the end for Mr. Fanning however... he sold the rights to Napster to Roxio (a legally established file sharing company with no musical dealings) and they adopted the Napster name (how often does the purchased company become the namesake?) and in cooperation with Fanning, developed relationships with the RIAA so that mp3s could be sold efficiently and legally. Problem solved!
No. Of course, after Napster's demise as a free source of music to millions, other variations arose and still exist (Limewire, anyone?) and though there are many ways to legally download music through the internet, establishing markets for artists where once there were none (really, how could I sell a CD to someone in Japan...through the internet, it can now happen! Hallelujah!), there are still many ways to "illegally" share music files with your friends, family, neighbors, countrymen, and across borders!
I guess what I'm getting at is that calling filesharing illegal is not going to stop it. As an artist, I love the possibility of exposure and the opportunity to share with people I'll never meet. As a businessman, it's not that appealing. But what am I, an artist or a businessman? I'd rather be an artist...
"Confession" and "Invitation to the Thirsty" are yours: have at 'er friends! Be blessed
http://www.myspace.com/switch21music
I'm a worship song writer with songs to share with the church...
I'm a guy who's made an investment and wants to see a return...
I'm an unknown that needs exposure...
I feel as though the issues created by the digital movement will never be fully resolved, but they're not new! People have always been able to copy music they've never paid for (as long as there has been music to purchase, with the exception of phonograph records I suppose -which means they've been able to copy music since the invention of tape recording with 8-tracks...I digress) and that's only been escalated with the onset of the digital revolution.
I remember seeing Lars Ulrich (drummer from Metallica), Dr. Dre (you know who he is, admit it) and a host of suit guys debating on CNN about the availability of music (free music) created by Napster. Was it ethical? Was it fair to the artists? What about the record companies? What about the distributors, the record stores, the workers at the music stores? It just keeps flowing along, affecting people across the board. And this was 5 years ago...Do you remember Napster? This was the first famous virtual network designed to share files worldwide on the internet. Created by Northeastern University student Shawn Fanning in the 90's as a way to promote a music community, he was taken to court by the RIAA (Recording Industry Association of America) who claimed that this type of file sharing (music files) was illegal and circumvented copyright laws. Well, as expected, those with the $$ won the legal battle. This was not the end for Mr. Fanning however... he sold the rights to Napster to Roxio (a legally established file sharing company with no musical dealings) and they adopted the Napster name (how often does the purchased company become the namesake?) and in cooperation with Fanning, developed relationships with the RIAA so that mp3s could be sold efficiently and legally. Problem solved!
No. Of course, after Napster's demise as a free source of music to millions, other variations arose and still exist (Limewire, anyone?) and though there are many ways to legally download music through the internet, establishing markets for artists where once there were none (really, how could I sell a CD to someone in Japan...through the internet, it can now happen! Hallelujah!), there are still many ways to "illegally" share music files with your friends, family, neighbors, countrymen, and across borders!
I guess what I'm getting at is that calling filesharing illegal is not going to stop it. As an artist, I love the possibility of exposure and the opportunity to share with people I'll never meet. As a businessman, it's not that appealing. But what am I, an artist or a businessman? I'd rather be an artist...
"Confession" and "Invitation to the Thirsty" are yours: have at 'er friends! Be blessed
http://www.myspace.com/switch21music
27.8.06
Once and awhile
I'm not one for getting all emotional on my blog. Generally, I like to keep it at a distance, make strikes at being witty or thoughtful, occasionally dabbling in the auto-biographical. I don't know, it's not a set-in-stone-philosophy or anything, just the way it's worked out.
Last night, I got the opportunity to head out to Camp Luther with some youth. I brought 5 teens who had never been out to camp (not totally true, some had been campers way long ago) and my wife was there with me too (the first time she'd been to Camp Luther while in summer mode). It was really great! I love that place and the people I've known because of it. It is truly a special, God-blessed sanctuary that is a home for so many incredible young men and women....it's awesome (not in the watered-down version of awesome, but the intended, passionate, drop-to-your-knees and shudder awesome). Yeah.
These youth seemed to like it. They were thankful for the chance to experience it and see what their friends find so amazing (three other youth from Zion were at camp there). I was glad to hear that :)
I am poor at keeping my eyes-ears-heart-mind open to God encouraging me and yet, I managed to see-hear-feel-sense Him this time...so often, the knowledge of the impact any one of our lives can have on another (peer-parent-camper-youth-whatever) is hidden from us to keep us humble (I think so)...when we can see it, even for a moment, the potential blows us away. I am blown away and I am blessed to have served.
Yeah.
P.S. - I unintentionally started chaining words-thoughts-ideas together with hyphens tonight...weird.
Last night, I got the opportunity to head out to Camp Luther with some youth. I brought 5 teens who had never been out to camp (not totally true, some had been campers way long ago) and my wife was there with me too (the first time she'd been to Camp Luther while in summer mode). It was really great! I love that place and the people I've known because of it. It is truly a special, God-blessed sanctuary that is a home for so many incredible young men and women....it's awesome (not in the watered-down version of awesome, but the intended, passionate, drop-to-your-knees and shudder awesome). Yeah.
These youth seemed to like it. They were thankful for the chance to experience it and see what their friends find so amazing (three other youth from Zion were at camp there). I was glad to hear that :)
I am poor at keeping my eyes-ears-heart-mind open to God encouraging me and yet, I managed to see-hear-feel-sense Him this time...so often, the knowledge of the impact any one of our lives can have on another (peer-parent-camper-youth-whatever) is hidden from us to keep us humble (I think so)...when we can see it, even for a moment, the potential blows us away. I am blown away and I am blessed to have served.
Yeah.
P.S. - I unintentionally started chaining words-thoughts-ideas together with hyphens tonight...weird.
22.8.06
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...
Everybody chooses an order for their stuff: CDs, books, names, phone numbers, etc. Lists and piles require organization of some sort. Now for you smart-aleks (also read: dumbasses) out there who are going to tell me they don't organize at all, "I just live in extraordinary, unadulterated filth and mess"...you still choose an order for your stuff...it's just a 'less-work' version on the scale of organizationality (I know you like that made up word).
The movie "High Fidelity" made the Top-5 Lists famous (or at least famous to those who've seen the movie - YOU SHOULD SEE THE MOVIE). As well, the concept of arranging one's things by genre came into effect in the film. For example, one collector sorted his records in order of when he heard them; not when they were made, not alphabetically, but essentially autobiographically. Pretty cool. Again, you should see the movie. Smile:)
Anyhow, it's not uncommon in Blogdom to find crazy lists of links on the sidebar of any particular blog. Names, titles, codewords, phrases...whatever suits the fancy of the blogger and his/her readers. Well, my challenge to you is to find out how I've sorted my link-list....first sleuth to correctly meet the challenge wins a prize!!
Good luck and Godspeed.
The movie "High Fidelity" made the Top-5 Lists famous (or at least famous to those who've seen the movie - YOU SHOULD SEE THE MOVIE). As well, the concept of arranging one's things by genre came into effect in the film. For example, one collector sorted his records in order of when he heard them; not when they were made, not alphabetically, but essentially autobiographically. Pretty cool. Again, you should see the movie. Smile:)
Anyhow, it's not uncommon in Blogdom to find crazy lists of links on the sidebar of any particular blog. Names, titles, codewords, phrases...whatever suits the fancy of the blogger and his/her readers. Well, my challenge to you is to find out how I've sorted my link-list....first sleuth to correctly meet the challenge wins a prize!!
Good luck and Godspeed.
18.8.06
What are they going to call it?
There is a new behaviour to study. Pyschologists and behavioural scientists all across the world are fascinated with this breed rising up within popular culture. Fortunately, variations of this conduct have been around for millenia and this latest strain will be analyzed starting from existing research, giving scientists an imporant head start in combatting this vicious malady.
It is contagious and spreading, much like a mob grows in the midst of rebellion. As the crowd advances, more and more catch on, no longer watching from the fringe, but joining in as the madness swells! Arrogance balloons and a sudden, proud swagger appears even amongst those once considered the most meek and mild in society. Were this pattern of growth to continue, surely it will bring about the destruction of all we hold sacred, shattering the precious psyches of many fragile friends, disrupting the proliferation of creative thought, inhibiting fertile minds, assimilating all but the strongest of wills.
The existence of this behaviour should not be surprising. As mentioned above, earlier variants have thrived throughout the course of human history; this new blip on the radar, though compelling, was not unexpected. What has caught researchers offguard is how quickly these mannerisms have been adopted by society-at-large, threatening to overpower a burgeoning industry. In reality, it is merely following the pattern of everything else associated with its source: the internet.
What is this virulent manner, you ask? What is this plague poised on the precipice of disaster? What is threatening to plunge each one of us into the abyss of despair?
Blog bullies.
You know who you are: you who demand updates only to scratch your junkie itch, to satiate your unceasing need to read more and more AND MORE! You know who you are: You who feign interest in personal lives in order to hide your informant's addicition to know all! You know who you are: daring to dispirit the private world of creative genius by demanding production according to your timetables! Yes, you know who you are.
BACK OFF!!! I'll blog when I wanna!! SO THERE!!!
(author sticks out his tongue, makes a silly face and runs away as fast as his little feet can carry him)
It is contagious and spreading, much like a mob grows in the midst of rebellion. As the crowd advances, more and more catch on, no longer watching from the fringe, but joining in as the madness swells! Arrogance balloons and a sudden, proud swagger appears even amongst those once considered the most meek and mild in society. Were this pattern of growth to continue, surely it will bring about the destruction of all we hold sacred, shattering the precious psyches of many fragile friends, disrupting the proliferation of creative thought, inhibiting fertile minds, assimilating all but the strongest of wills.
The existence of this behaviour should not be surprising. As mentioned above, earlier variants have thrived throughout the course of human history; this new blip on the radar, though compelling, was not unexpected. What has caught researchers offguard is how quickly these mannerisms have been adopted by society-at-large, threatening to overpower a burgeoning industry. In reality, it is merely following the pattern of everything else associated with its source: the internet.
What is this virulent manner, you ask? What is this plague poised on the precipice of disaster? What is threatening to plunge each one of us into the abyss of despair?
Blog bullies.
You know who you are: you who demand updates only to scratch your junkie itch, to satiate your unceasing need to read more and more AND MORE! You know who you are: You who feign interest in personal lives in order to hide your informant's addicition to know all! You know who you are: daring to dispirit the private world of creative genius by demanding production according to your timetables! Yes, you know who you are.
BACK OFF!!! I'll blog when I wanna!! SO THERE!!!
(author sticks out his tongue, makes a silly face and runs away as fast as his little feet can carry him)
21.6.06
Dibid yibou hibear thibat?
...fond memories of the past...
Back in high school, my friend Eric and I spent tons of time together. Most days, I'd drive him home from school (yes, I was the chauffeur) and we'd chill for a couple hours at his home, drinking coke, eating crap food and talking like guys do.
During many a late-afternoon visit, E's brother David and sister Lauren would hang around like younger siblings do, like units of "cool" could be absorbed by osmosis... we were so cool....
Though he didn't like these familial units hanging around most of the time, there were times where Eric engaged with his family in pestering the best friend, namely: me. They had their own language it seems...
The three of them (or the two of them, and occasionally, the mother would join in too) would jabber along in what seemed to me to be gibberish. Then they would laugh hysterically, making it very clear that it was at my expense. Needless to say, I put my language skills to work and, along with a couple hints, figured out what they were saying. They called it "Double Dutch" though the name doesn't matter. It was coded english, like the more well-known Pig Latin and it worked famously!
Those initial torture sessions led to the use of this code more often, and it was great. Imagine high school while being able to say anything at anytime about anyone and only the people you trust could understand. It was like we spoke Japanese or Swahili or Xhosa only even Japanese, Swahili, or Xhosas couldn't decipher it either!!! AMAZING!!!
Until Colleen quietly came up to me one day and rattled off a flawless sentence in Double Dutch. She knew.
She Knew?
She KNEW!?!
Yup. She knew.
You see, Colleen was another good friend and a smart one at that. She heard Eric and I (not that we were bashful about it or worried about being discovered) and put her brain to work, discovering the secrets on her own that I needed clues to find. She beat us. Bravo!
Death to Double Dutch.
Back in high school, my friend Eric and I spent tons of time together. Most days, I'd drive him home from school (yes, I was the chauffeur) and we'd chill for a couple hours at his home, drinking coke, eating crap food and talking like guys do.
During many a late-afternoon visit, E's brother David and sister Lauren would hang around like younger siblings do, like units of "cool" could be absorbed by osmosis... we were so cool....
Though he didn't like these familial units hanging around most of the time, there were times where Eric engaged with his family in pestering the best friend, namely: me. They had their own language it seems...
The three of them (or the two of them, and occasionally, the mother would join in too) would jabber along in what seemed to me to be gibberish. Then they would laugh hysterically, making it very clear that it was at my expense. Needless to say, I put my language skills to work and, along with a couple hints, figured out what they were saying. They called it "Double Dutch" though the name doesn't matter. It was coded english, like the more well-known Pig Latin and it worked famously!
Those initial torture sessions led to the use of this code more often, and it was great. Imagine high school while being able to say anything at anytime about anyone and only the people you trust could understand. It was like we spoke Japanese or Swahili or Xhosa only even Japanese, Swahili, or Xhosas couldn't decipher it either!!! AMAZING!!!
Until Colleen quietly came up to me one day and rattled off a flawless sentence in Double Dutch. She knew.
She Knew?
She KNEW!?!
Yup. She knew.
You see, Colleen was another good friend and a smart one at that. She heard Eric and I (not that we were bashful about it or worried about being discovered) and put her brain to work, discovering the secrets on her own that I needed clues to find. She beat us. Bravo!
Death to Double Dutch.
9.6.06
Please stay seated
I must be honest. One solid reason I am writing this post is to avoid losing my coveted space on the bloglist of Neal. I simply do not want to give up my perch and thus, I write. You know, it's not that there's been nothing happening over the last month. Not so at all! In fact, much has been going on. Unfortunately for me, not so much of it is blogworthy, either being uninteresting, unfunny, too personal or some combination of the three. Sigh.
On one amazing note, my wife and I celebrated our first anniversary this week. We were driving back from E-town on this wonderful day and thus, did not celebrate as we would like. Plans are in the works to take the proper time to do it up! Lack-of-grand-celebration aside, I was (and still am) awestruck by the gift of my wife; that we have had this incredible time of growth together leaves me speechless, with tears of joy on my face. I am blessed to have such an encouraging partner with whom to learn about love...
Pastor Andrew wrote of transition and I heartily agree... so much of "growing up" is realizing that life is never settled, never fair, never finished. It is always at you, picking and prodding, until final peace is found in death. Fin.
On one amazing note, my wife and I celebrated our first anniversary this week. We were driving back from E-town on this wonderful day and thus, did not celebrate as we would like. Plans are in the works to take the proper time to do it up! Lack-of-grand-celebration aside, I was (and still am) awestruck by the gift of my wife; that we have had this incredible time of growth together leaves me speechless, with tears of joy on my face. I am blessed to have such an encouraging partner with whom to learn about love...
Pastor Andrew wrote of transition and I heartily agree... so much of "growing up" is realizing that life is never settled, never fair, never finished. It is always at you, picking and prodding, until final peace is found in death. Fin.
5.5.06
Procrastinating
I think I couldn't have thought of a better name for my blog. I procrastinate to avoid procrastinating! I'm terrible.
The previous posts have the date of April 23 on them, though they were truly posted today. I had some thoughts and wanted to improve upon them, though the mirror post remained unchanged. Good intentions, though ultimately unnecessary. This "save a draft, post it later" thing is a strange feature of this bloggy world. A prior thought, if drafted, can be shared later and credited on the day upon which it was drafted, not shared. That is a feature worth paying for in other areas of life....
Imagine if you thought of something, wrote it down, and left it there (intentionally or not) until the context to which the thought (or behaviour) belonged had expired, yet you were able to retrieve the written thought and apply it now (out of context) in a meaningful way as though you had done so at the time of the thinking and writing! Forgetful men could save their anniversaries! Visa bills could be paid before the due date! Absent minded professors could get papers marked on time! Youth pastors could pass on wonderful encouragements to those they work with and get budgets finished! The whole world could be filled with the idealist behaviour we all wished we could exhibit...though it would be accepted a month late!!! It would be AMAZING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Or maybe it just means the wrong date is stuck on your post in Blogger. Yikes.
The previous posts have the date of April 23 on them, though they were truly posted today. I had some thoughts and wanted to improve upon them, though the mirror post remained unchanged. Good intentions, though ultimately unnecessary. This "save a draft, post it later" thing is a strange feature of this bloggy world. A prior thought, if drafted, can be shared later and credited on the day upon which it was drafted, not shared. That is a feature worth paying for in other areas of life....
Imagine if you thought of something, wrote it down, and left it there (intentionally or not) until the context to which the thought (or behaviour) belonged had expired, yet you were able to retrieve the written thought and apply it now (out of context) in a meaningful way as though you had done so at the time of the thinking and writing! Forgetful men could save their anniversaries! Visa bills could be paid before the due date! Absent minded professors could get papers marked on time! Youth pastors could pass on wonderful encouragements to those they work with and get budgets finished! The whole world could be filled with the idealist behaviour we all wished we could exhibit...though it would be accepted a month late!!! It would be AMAZING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Or maybe it just means the wrong date is stuck on your post in Blogger. Yikes.
23.4.06
Alliteration
I like alliteration.
Singing songs softly while wooing women.
In fact, finding friends is fun at Fridays!
Monday's musings made me mostly mellow... metaphorical meanderings mainly.
See how fun it can be!!!!!
Take a crack at clogging my comments with your alliterative communications...
Singing songs softly while wooing women.
In fact, finding friends is fun at Fridays!
Monday's musings made me mostly mellow... metaphorical meanderings mainly.
See how fun it can be!!!!!
Take a crack at clogging my comments with your alliterative communications...
12.4.06
Out there
I neglected to post about my concert way back on March 18...
I had a lot of fun that night! There ended up being 55 people turn out and it was a supportive crowd, to say the least. Lots of friends and a few new people, with music and silliness and heart all at once!
The band played really well, especially since this was the first time they had ever played together at all! Due to the realities of work schedules and adult life, we were never able to assemble the whole group at once until the actual concert! The first two practices involved Maria, Anthony, Mark, Brian and I (everyone but Toby) while the third was missing Maria and the last, Maria and Mark. Ahhhh the joys of the real world! Regardless, we were able to hang together and trust that God himself was present to unite us...He was. It was a real blessing to me!
One element of silliness that invaded the evening came in the form of a vote. I began the concert extolling the virtues of democracy and its far-reaching consequences, encouraging all to make use of this valuable right.... over the style of my facial hair. Now, this was no small task, considering that I had grown out my beard to provide options for the people. It takes me roughly nine years to do this, but I love my fans and was willing to make the sacrifice! There were six options, ranging from a scary little moustache (no, not Hitler tiny) to leaving it as it was, a full beard. Everyone could vote during the intermission and following the intermission, plus a couple more songs (to give time to tally the votes and prepare the shaving equipment), I would shave on stage. Yes, on stage. Alex and I 
planned ahead for this, but neglected to bring a mirror. This meant that I would have to rely on someone else to perform the shave (YIKES). Peter Kim, a long time friend and ally would help (I'm scared!). The winner was "wolverine" style, which meshed a long, handlebar moustache with bushy sideburns that extended down my jaw. Not Alex's favorite, but the people had spoken!! Wolverine it was, and still is. I've actually maintained this look right through to the present day!
If you are a back blog reader (previous posts), you may remember that I posted about concerts back on March 14th, making mention of the concert of mine to come. Well, one major concern I have with performance, be it acting or reading or music or mime or whatever, is that it is worth it. I've paid $100 for a ticket to a concert (guess which band?) and considered it completely worthwhile yet in the same vein, paid nothing for some concerts that I wished only for my time back (not worthwhile)! This was a desire for me in my performance...make it worthwhile. I believe that we did that. It was a fun night and the music was good. The commentary was long-winded and self-inflated, but effective. Heartfelt moments balanced out times of outlandish hubris and one could be left with a sense of satisfaction. Hoo-wah.
And despite the favorable results, I still have not scheduled the next one...sigh. I need a manager :)
I had a lot of fun that night! There ended up being 55 people turn out and it was a supportive crowd, to say the least. Lots of friends and a few new people, with music and silliness and heart all at once!
The band played really well, especially since this was the first time they had ever played together at all! Due to the realities of work schedules and adult life, we were never able to assemble the whole group at once until the actual concert! The first two practices involved Maria, Anthony, Mark, Brian and I (everyone but Toby) while the third was missing Maria and the last, Maria and Mark. Ahhhh the joys of the real world! Regardless, we were able to hang together and trust that God himself was present to unite us...He was. It was a real blessing to me!
One element of silliness that invaded the evening came in the form of a vote. I began the concert extolling the virtues of democracy and its far-reaching consequences, encouraging all to make use of this valuable right.... over the style of my facial hair. Now, this was no small task, considering that I had grown out my beard to provide options for the people. It takes me roughly nine years to do this, but I love my fans and was willing to make the sacrifice! There were six options, ranging from a scary little moustache (no, not Hitler tiny) to leaving it as it was, a full beard. Everyone could vote during the intermission and following the intermission, plus a couple more songs (to give time to tally the votes and prepare the shaving equipment), I would shave on stage. Yes, on stage. Alex and I 
planned ahead for this, but neglected to bring a mirror. This meant that I would have to rely on someone else to perform the shave (YIKES). Peter Kim, a long time friend and ally would help (I'm scared!). The winner was "wolverine" style, which meshed a long, handlebar moustache with bushy sideburns that extended down my jaw. Not Alex's favorite, but the people had spoken!! Wolverine it was, and still is. I've actually maintained this look right through to the present day!If you are a back blog reader (previous posts), you may remember that I posted about concerts back on March 14th, making mention of the concert of mine to come. Well, one major concern I have with performance, be it acting or reading or music or mime or whatever, is that it is worth it. I've paid $100 for a ticket to a concert (guess which band?) and considered it completely worthwhile yet in the same vein, paid nothing for some concerts that I wished only for my time back (not worthwhile)! This was a desire for me in my performance...make it worthwhile. I believe that we did that. It was a fun night and the music was good. The commentary was long-winded and self-inflated, but effective. Heartfelt moments balanced out times of outlandish hubris and one could be left with a sense of satisfaction. Hoo-wah.
And despite the favorable results, I still have not scheduled the next one...sigh. I need a manager :)
5.4.06
Not Totally a Liar
So I told a fib. Steve K had a "competition" on his blog with regards to a particular Tuesday and it's extragant blessing...whoever could beat his Tuesday story won an iPod. Well, suffice it to say that I won, but had no evidence of such a blessed Tuesday. Thus, the previous blog entry. Sigh.
Now, part of that tale held truth...Alex is an immigrant!! I've talked about these matters only a couple of times on this space, so I'll summarize. Summer 2002, Claudia Alejandra Morataya Delgado made application to become a permanant resident (or landed immigrant) in Canada, filing an application as a "Skilled Worker" (childcare was her area of training and an area of need in Canada). After multiple medicals and record checks (cause it was taking so long, not because there was anything wrong), working visas and student visas (so she could stay in Canada legally), trips to Guatemala, United States & Europe, marriage to a Canadian, and nearly FOUR years, C. Alejandra Thompson is a permanent resident in Canada!! This is GREAT news for her, for us!
This was an extremely long and trying journey for Alex and it is amazing that it is finally over! This is a time to praise God for His faithfulness...
Now some of you might be wondering what was the purpose behind this arduous journey. I know that I didn't know about the rigours of immigration until it involved me...another blessing of being born a Canadian. As a Guatemalan, Alex could not live, work or go to school in Canada without a visa allowing it. These visas require money, paperwork and reasonable motivation to be approved. If Alex wanted to change jobs, it would take no less than 3 months for it to be approved, IF it was approved (uncertainty is a hope-stealer). The job had to be in the field of childcare or religious work and full time for it to even be considered. If Alex wanted to go to school, she had to apply for a student visa (pretty easy to get) and then attend school full time, paying international tuition (about $10 000 per year) and would not be permitted to work a job, unless it was provided to her by the school. Good times. As a landed immigrant, Alex can now work wherever she wants, as much as she wants. She can work and go to school, paying regular tuition costs, going full time, part time, whatever. She is finally free...
Needless to say, I am pretty happy about this. I was really shocked to learn of the difficult path some foreigners must walk in order to gain access to the wonders of Canadian life. It was a tough lesson to learn, but I'm glad I know now. It's going to open doors to ministry in the future, having this epiphany of the need that exists for poor souls trapped on this journey.
NOTE: be aware that I have divulged Alex's full name in "print"... do not talk of this. You are under penalty of death and/or dismemberment should you do so... :)
Now, part of that tale held truth...Alex is an immigrant!! I've talked about these matters only a couple of times on this space, so I'll summarize. Summer 2002, Claudia Alejandra Morataya Delgado made application to become a permanant resident (or landed immigrant) in Canada, filing an application as a "Skilled Worker" (childcare was her area of training and an area of need in Canada). After multiple medicals and record checks (cause it was taking so long, not because there was anything wrong), working visas and student visas (so she could stay in Canada legally), trips to Guatemala, United States & Europe, marriage to a Canadian, and nearly FOUR years, C. Alejandra Thompson is a permanent resident in Canada!! This is GREAT news for her, for us!
This was an extremely long and trying journey for Alex and it is amazing that it is finally over! This is a time to praise God for His faithfulness...
Now some of you might be wondering what was the purpose behind this arduous journey. I know that I didn't know about the rigours of immigration until it involved me...another blessing of being born a Canadian. As a Guatemalan, Alex could not live, work or go to school in Canada without a visa allowing it. These visas require money, paperwork and reasonable motivation to be approved. If Alex wanted to change jobs, it would take no less than 3 months for it to be approved, IF it was approved (uncertainty is a hope-stealer). The job had to be in the field of childcare or religious work and full time for it to even be considered. If Alex wanted to go to school, she had to apply for a student visa (pretty easy to get) and then attend school full time, paying international tuition (about $10 000 per year) and would not be permitted to work a job, unless it was provided to her by the school. Good times. As a landed immigrant, Alex can now work wherever she wants, as much as she wants. She can work and go to school, paying regular tuition costs, going full time, part time, whatever. She is finally free...
Needless to say, I am pretty happy about this. I was really shocked to learn of the difficult path some foreigners must walk in order to gain access to the wonders of Canadian life. It was a tough lesson to learn, but I'm glad I know now. It's going to open doors to ministry in the future, having this epiphany of the need that exists for poor souls trapped on this journey.
NOTE: be aware that I have divulged Alex's full name in "print"... do not talk of this. You are under penalty of death and/or dismemberment should you do so... :)
I'm not kidding. :P
Really, I am not joking.
Seriously.
22.3.06
I AM COKE!!
| You Are Coke |
 A true original and classic, you represent the best of everything you can offer. Just the right amount of sweet, just the right amount of energy... you're the life of the party. Your best soda match: Mountain Dew Stay away from:Dr Pepper |
14.3.06
Concerts
I love going to conccerts! I've been to two in the last month and both were quite established performers with long careers, and you can tell why.
The first one was Phil Keaggy. Awesome guitarist. One of the best in the world (and has been for 30+ years!) and a true delight to take in! This was my third Keaggy concert but it was the first for my two guests (Anthony and Alex) and that makes the moment even better. I really wouldn't be able to do justice with words describing his ability, so I'll sum it up to say: money well spent.
The second concert was put on by the Arrogant Worms. I was reminded of the healing power of laughter....it feels so good! These guys have been together for over 10 years and they've built their career on great harmony and humor. They are witty and adept at using the humor of the moment. I was really impressed at their ability to involve the crowd and "use" the partcipants against them, as though they made their jobs easier by getting us all doing the work. If that doesn't really make sense to you, that's ok. I know what I mean! The most impressive thing about these three guys is that they perform with three mics and a guitar, sometimes adding in a bass guitar. That's it. And yet, musically, they are diverse and strong, giving no sign of lacking anything. I like that. The Worms can flat out sing together. Awesome.
That brings up a point I'd like to make. Going to a concert like the one put on by the A.W.'s, it proves how important vocals are to lyrical music. If you're going to have vocals, they should be good vocals, tightly sung, and accentuating each other. There are so many bands out there that have great musicians who play extremely well and because they like to write and perform their music, they recruit some lead singer wannabe to toss out some words. AND IT KILLS THE WHOLE ACT. Done. The only way to overcome this weakness is to remain instrumental and impress the crowd with what you're best at... it's kinda sad to hear solid bands with terrible vocals. Maybe that's the driving force behind screaming music? I can't sing, but I can scream reallllll good. Yup. Not my cup of tea.
Regardless, I enjoy concerts. I like 'em, I like 'em alot.
And not unlike John Cuzack's character in High Fidelity, I'm doing something new this week: I'm putting myself out there...doing my own stuff. Scary. Saturday night (18th), I'll be on stage with some friends, hoping that everyone leaves that night having spent their money well. Fin.
The first one was Phil Keaggy. Awesome guitarist. One of the best in the world (and has been for 30+ years!) and a true delight to take in! This was my third Keaggy concert but it was the first for my two guests (Anthony and Alex) and that makes the moment even better. I really wouldn't be able to do justice with words describing his ability, so I'll sum it up to say: money well spent.
The second concert was put on by the Arrogant Worms. I was reminded of the healing power of laughter....it feels so good! These guys have been together for over 10 years and they've built their career on great harmony and humor. They are witty and adept at using the humor of the moment. I was really impressed at their ability to involve the crowd and "use" the partcipants against them, as though they made their jobs easier by getting us all doing the work. If that doesn't really make sense to you, that's ok. I know what I mean! The most impressive thing about these three guys is that they perform with three mics and a guitar, sometimes adding in a bass guitar. That's it. And yet, musically, they are diverse and strong, giving no sign of lacking anything. I like that. The Worms can flat out sing together. Awesome.
That brings up a point I'd like to make. Going to a concert like the one put on by the A.W.'s, it proves how important vocals are to lyrical music. If you're going to have vocals, they should be good vocals, tightly sung, and accentuating each other. There are so many bands out there that have great musicians who play extremely well and because they like to write and perform their music, they recruit some lead singer wannabe to toss out some words. AND IT KILLS THE WHOLE ACT. Done. The only way to overcome this weakness is to remain instrumental and impress the crowd with what you're best at... it's kinda sad to hear solid bands with terrible vocals. Maybe that's the driving force behind screaming music? I can't sing, but I can scream reallllll good. Yup. Not my cup of tea.
Regardless, I enjoy concerts. I like 'em, I like 'em alot.
And not unlike John Cuzack's character in High Fidelity, I'm doing something new this week: I'm putting myself out there...doing my own stuff. Scary. Saturday night (18th), I'll be on stage with some friends, hoping that everyone leaves that night having spent their money well. Fin.
8.3.06
Skydiving...
Have you ever jumped out of a plane?
You should. It's fun!!
Alex and I were preparing a picture wheel (<----see left:a neat gift from our wedding...put photos in frames that spin around like a ferris wheel...not on its own power though, just when you move it...aaarrrrgh) and I was deciding which pics I wanted in the wheel, cause it was going to my office at work. Well, lo and behold, I came across a picture of the group I went skydiving with in California in 2004. That one had to go in there...
I've declared that skydiving is fun, but I feel its important to tell the full story of my first (and only so far) experience with the sport. It is completely true (in my opinion) that jumping out of a plane is fun. In fact, I often wondered if I knew I was going to die, like in three hours or something, and it was certain death, not just probable, and I had to choose how to go out, I always thought that freefalling from super high up would be an energized way to finish life...just falling faster and faster and faster until you hit and it's done. Finito. Wouldn't be so bad. That's why I have always thought that invulnerability (physically) would be an awesome super power, cause you could just jump off of buildings and cliffs and out of planes without getting injured. Though that leads me to wonder if it would still hurt. Like, your bones didn't shatter, but man, it still stings... you know? Anyhow, if being invulnerable means not getting injured AND it doesn't hurt, I'm all in. Sounds good to me. Now, this incredible series of tangents ends with the point. Though falling out of a plane is fun and I would recommend it to anyone, the day of this great fun was less than enjoyable to me. I'll explain why:
The day started with a staff meeting, the final one of the summer at Camp Del Oro in northern California. My fiancee, Alex, is the Program Director at said camp and led us all through a great summer and meaningful ministry. The final meeting is sad, but exciting (to get back to "real" life and freedom) and it ends with a special gift to my lady. She is told by the boss, Bob, that she's getting a bonus for the summer (she was told this in private) and she tells me that she's so excited because it was just enough to cover going skydiving!! This is something she's wanted to do for three years and it was finally going to happen...
ASIDE: Now, those of you out there who are skeptical may think that I decided to jump cause Alex really wanted me to, but the truth is, I had wanted to skydive for many many years. In fact, Brent Shardlow and I planned a jump once but it fell through. Any of you who have met Brent Shardlow know that he hasn't been in Western Canada nor in my contact for years, even before I met Alex, so my decision to jump was based on me. So there. :)
Back to the story:
This had been planned for a week and a half by the members of the camp staff who were going to jump and the whole group was pumped. In fact, I was the only bummed out member. My reason: the Fat Tax. If you are not familiar with skydiving, the only way you can show up somewhere and jump out of the plane that same day is to jump tandem, with a professional strapped to your back like a spooning friend. Well, pros jumping tandem don't like to have really heavy people jump with them cause it hurts more. The heavier the person, the harder the drag when you open the chute and the more your little gear stresses on your legs and groin. Not as much fun. So, to discourage fat people from jumping (fat meaning heavy, even if its all muscle of course) there is a Fat Tax. The Fat Tax is applied to all individuals over 200 lbs in weight. One dollar per pound is assessed to this poor individual causing the perceived value of his* jump to plummet. At a weight of 240 lbs, for example, Mr. X will pay $140 to jump out of the same plane as Mr. T who weighs in at 198 lbs and paid $100. Thus, for the same experience, the perceived value (financially) is reduced by 40% right off the top. Now, if this were not enough, the Fat Tax is accompanied by the Fat Penalty, which further reduces Mr. X (or my...if you haven't caught on to that) satisfaction. The Fat Penalty is the real kicker. This Fat Penalty states that anyone over 200 lbs in weight will only be permitted to jump from an altitude of 6000 feet. Still pretty high up there and still jumping out of a plane, yes, but oh, the unfairness of it all!!! Everyone else jumps at 13,000 feet and gets over one full minute of freefall. I would have only 3000 feet of freefall (about 30 sec)...ahem, pardon me....Mr. X would only have 30 seconds of freefall!! So to wrap this up, Mr. X will pay 40% more for 55% less...arrrraarrrrrggaaagrrragggagghhhahhh!
I had firmly decided that I would not jump, not under those conditions. I could not, in good conscience, pay so much for so little. I would find another way to do this some other day. Unfortunately, I got sucked in by the moment.
Of course, though I had decided not to jump, I accompanied the group to Lodi and the jump center. My fiancee was jumping and I wanted to support her for sure. I was still grumpy though. When we got there, Tim came running up to me, exclaiming:
"They didn't even ask about the weight man! Go for it! You'll get through!!"
He was excited about this because Tim, like myself, weighed in at over 200 lbs. Tim, however, tipped the scales at 210 versus my 240....
I decided to try.
I filled out the forms, paid the money, got through the training, even got called in to get suited up with the group...everything was going smoothly. Until I met Brian (or Bruce, or John... I don't remember his name), the man I would be jumping with. Brian (or Bruce, or John...whatever) was all smiles and giggles. He was a grey haired man, probably about 50 years old, and quite short. In fact, it became obvious that he was the smallest of the pros. Paired up with the biggest of the jumpers...makes sense. After introducing himself and explaining how amazing my experience would be, Brian (or Bruce, or John...I don't like the guy, who cares?) sizes me up and asks, "How much you weigh Brent? It's important we have it right for safety." To which I answer, halfheartedly, "about 240..." "Yeah, why don't you step up here" (he motions to a scale, conveniently placed beside the door to the tarmac) "and we'll check it out."
Sure enough, I weighed 240 lbs, so Brian (or Bruce, or John...maybe Satan) says casually, "Well, that'll be forty bucks and we'll get going, jumping from 6000 feet of course!" I was shocked. To wait so long to ask for this Fat Tax and assesment of the Fat Penalty! I was right at the door!!! I was 100 feet from the plane!!! Ooooo the cruelty of it all!!!
Needless to say, before I paid the money, I had a conversation with Brian (or Bruce, or John...definitely Satan) during which he guaranteed that this would still blow my mind. I should have said, "or what...my money back?" but I didn't. I got stuck in the moment and paid the Fat Tax and accepted the Fat Penalty....
The bonus of this whole situation was that Alex and I would share this experience together (except she would jump from higher up, much after me) and I'd be jumping with friends too! Tim did manage to sneak through under the Fat Tax and I was happy for him. The secondary bonus was discovered when we loaded up the plane and I found out that I got to sit in the doorway of the plane for the whole takeoff and ascent! That was really cool! We arrived at 6000 feet, Brian (or Bruce, or John...by now, my Angel) asked if I was ready and told me to jump whenever...so we jumped.
Freefall is beautiful. Amazing. Truly.
"Time to pull the 'chute!!"
OUUUUUUUUUCCCCCHHHH! That hurt. Brian (or Bruce, or John...back to Satan) agreed, "Yeah, that was a bad one!"
He let me control the ascent for most of the fall and I got to push some G's (measures of the effect of gravity) by doing controlled spins on the way down (I recommend that!!). Then came the landing. He blew that pretty bad in my opinion. He explained that I should keep my legs up and then catch the ground running once he touched...well, Mr. Shortypants didn't touch the ground and simply landed on me, with everyone watching....what a dummy.
I didn't ask for my money back, but I don't think he fulfilled his guarantee... though, in retrospect, no one could 've made me happy that day following the rules of safety. It's just one of those situations that is out of your hands. Sigh.
Alex came down about three people later and I was there to hug her right away. She still would claim that day as one of the best days of her life and I am happy for that! She was disappointed by my sadness, but wouldn't let Eeyore ruin her day (good for her!). I sulked and dealt with it all on my own, ignoring the joys of company for the rest of the day. Pretty lame. But I don't regret it. And I don't regret jumping either.
I'll do it again someday by myself. That way there is no Fat Tax :)
*I will use the masculine pronoun throughout this hypothetical because I am not aware of any females weighing 200+ lbs that are dying to jump out of a plane, so the male example is really the only one necessary. SO there.
You should. It's fun!!
Alex and I were preparing a picture wheel (<----see left:a neat gift from our wedding...put photos in frames that spin around like a ferris wheel...not on its own power though, just when you move it...aaarrrrgh) and I was deciding which pics I wanted in the wheel, cause it was going to my office at work. Well, lo and behold, I came across a picture of the group I went skydiving with in California in 2004. That one had to go in there...I've declared that skydiving is fun, but I feel its important to tell the full story of my first (and only so far) experience with the sport. It is completely true (in my opinion) that jumping out of a plane is fun. In fact, I often wondered if I knew I was going to die, like in three hours or something, and it was certain death, not just probable, and I had to choose how to go out, I always thought that freefalling from super high up would be an energized way to finish life...just falling faster and faster and faster until you hit and it's done. Finito. Wouldn't be so bad. That's why I have always thought that invulnerability (physically) would be an awesome super power, cause you could just jump off of buildings and cliffs and out of planes without getting injured. Though that leads me to wonder if it would still hurt. Like, your bones didn't shatter, but man, it still stings... you know? Anyhow, if being invulnerable means not getting injured AND it doesn't hurt, I'm all in. Sounds good to me. Now, this incredible series of tangents ends with the point. Though falling out of a plane is fun and I would recommend it to anyone, the day of this great fun was less than enjoyable to me. I'll explain why:
The day started with a staff meeting, the final one of the summer at Camp Del Oro in northern California. My fiancee, Alex, is the Program Director at said camp and led us all through a great summer and meaningful ministry. The final meeting is sad, but exciting (to get back to "real" life and freedom) and it ends with a special gift to my lady. She is told by the boss, Bob, that she's getting a bonus for the summer (she was told this in private) and she tells me that she's so excited because it was just enough to cover going skydiving!! This is something she's wanted to do for three years and it was finally going to happen...
ASIDE: Now, those of you out there who are skeptical may think that I decided to jump cause Alex really wanted me to, but the truth is, I had wanted to skydive for many many years. In fact, Brent Shardlow and I planned a jump once but it fell through. Any of you who have met Brent Shardlow know that he hasn't been in Western Canada nor in my contact for years, even before I met Alex, so my decision to jump was based on me. So there. :)
Back to the story:
This had been planned for a week and a half by the members of the camp staff who were going to jump and the whole group was pumped. In fact, I was the only bummed out member. My reason: the Fat Tax. If you are not familiar with skydiving, the only way you can show up somewhere and jump out of the plane that same day is to jump tandem, with a professional strapped to your back like a spooning friend. Well, pros jumping tandem don't like to have really heavy people jump with them cause it hurts more. The heavier the person, the harder the drag when you open the chute and the more your little gear stresses on your legs and groin. Not as much fun. So, to discourage fat people from jumping (fat meaning heavy, even if its all muscle of course) there is a Fat Tax. The Fat Tax is applied to all individuals over 200 lbs in weight. One dollar per pound is assessed to this poor individual causing the perceived value of his* jump to plummet. At a weight of 240 lbs, for example, Mr. X will pay $140 to jump out of the same plane as Mr. T who weighs in at 198 lbs and paid $100. Thus, for the same experience, the perceived value (financially) is reduced by 40% right off the top. Now, if this were not enough, the Fat Tax is accompanied by the Fat Penalty, which further reduces Mr. X (or my...if you haven't caught on to that) satisfaction. The Fat Penalty is the real kicker. This Fat Penalty states that anyone over 200 lbs in weight will only be permitted to jump from an altitude of 6000 feet. Still pretty high up there and still jumping out of a plane, yes, but oh, the unfairness of it all!!! Everyone else jumps at 13,000 feet and gets over one full minute of freefall. I would have only 3000 feet of freefall (about 30 sec)...ahem, pardon me....Mr. X would only have 30 seconds of freefall!! So to wrap this up, Mr. X will pay 40% more for 55% less...arrrraarrrrrggaaagrrragggagghhhahhh!
I had firmly decided that I would not jump, not under those conditions. I could not, in good conscience, pay so much for so little. I would find another way to do this some other day. Unfortunately, I got sucked in by the moment.
Of course, though I had decided not to jump, I accompanied the group to Lodi and the jump center. My fiancee was jumping and I wanted to support her for sure. I was still grumpy though. When we got there, Tim came running up to me, exclaiming:
"They didn't even ask about the weight man! Go for it! You'll get through!!"
He was excited about this because Tim, like myself, weighed in at over 200 lbs. Tim, however, tipped the scales at 210 versus my 240....
I decided to try.
I filled out the forms, paid the money, got through the training, even got called in to get suited up with the group...everything was going smoothly. Until I met Brian (or Bruce, or John... I don't remember his name), the man I would be jumping with. Brian (or Bruce, or John...whatever) was all smiles and giggles. He was a grey haired man, probably about 50 years old, and quite short. In fact, it became obvious that he was the smallest of the pros. Paired up with the biggest of the jumpers...makes sense. After introducing himself and explaining how amazing my experience would be, Brian (or Bruce, or John...I don't like the guy, who cares?) sizes me up and asks, "How much you weigh Brent? It's important we have it right for safety." To which I answer, halfheartedly, "about 240..." "Yeah, why don't you step up here" (he motions to a scale, conveniently placed beside the door to the tarmac) "and we'll check it out."
Sure enough, I weighed 240 lbs, so Brian (or Bruce, or John...maybe Satan) says casually, "Well, that'll be forty bucks and we'll get going, jumping from 6000 feet of course!" I was shocked. To wait so long to ask for this Fat Tax and assesment of the Fat Penalty! I was right at the door!!! I was 100 feet from the plane!!! Ooooo the cruelty of it all!!!
Needless to say, before I paid the money, I had a conversation with Brian (or Bruce, or John...definitely Satan) during which he guaranteed that this would still blow my mind. I should have said, "or what...my money back?" but I didn't. I got stuck in the moment and paid the Fat Tax and accepted the Fat Penalty....
The bonus of this whole situation was that Alex and I would share this experience together (except she would jump from higher up, much after me) and I'd be jumping with friends too! Tim did manage to sneak through under the Fat Tax and I was happy for him. The secondary bonus was discovered when we loaded up the plane and I found out that I got to sit in the doorway of the plane for the whole takeoff and ascent! That was really cool! We arrived at 6000 feet, Brian (or Bruce, or John...by now, my Angel) asked if I was ready and told me to jump whenever...so we jumped.
Freefall is beautiful. Amazing. Truly.
"Time to pull the 'chute!!"
OUUUUUUUUUCCCCCHHHH! That hurt. Brian (or Bruce, or John...back to Satan) agreed, "Yeah, that was a bad one!"
He let me control the ascent for most of the fall and I got to push some G's (measures of the effect of gravity) by doing controlled spins on the way down (I recommend that!!). Then came the landing. He blew that pretty bad in my opinion. He explained that I should keep my legs up and then catch the ground running once he touched...well, Mr. Shortypants didn't touch the ground and simply landed on me, with everyone watching....what a dummy.
I didn't ask for my money back, but I don't think he fulfilled his guarantee... though, in retrospect, no one could 've made me happy that day following the rules of safety. It's just one of those situations that is out of your hands. Sigh.
Alex came down about three people later and I was there to hug her right away. She still would claim that day as one of the best days of her life and I am happy for that! She was disappointed by my sadness, but wouldn't let Eeyore ruin her day (good for her!). I sulked and dealt with it all on my own, ignoring the joys of company for the rest of the day. Pretty lame. But I don't regret it. And I don't regret jumping either.
I'll do it again someday by myself. That way there is no Fat Tax :)
*I will use the masculine pronoun throughout this hypothetical because I am not aware of any females weighing 200+ lbs that are dying to jump out of a plane, so the male example is really the only one necessary. SO there.
22.2.06
Correction
Okay, apparently, I'm not so good at Laser Tag. Oops. I am terrible at this game. I get shot a lot. A LOT. And I hit almost no one. At least not on my opponents' two tiny sensors with my pathetic LED light "laser" pistol... two stupid sensors on a human being's entire body. Sheesh! Yeah, cause to shoot someone in real life I'd have to make sure I shoot them right in that 2-inch hexagonal region overtop of their stomach! Yeah, that's the sweet spot for sniping fatality!!! Uh-hunh! Sure it is. And in the jungles of Viet Nam you could easily avoid death by crouching down with your back on a tree, covering up aforementioned sweet spot with your arm. Yeah. Cause a bullet can't penetrate that! It's impossible!
(Do you sense the bitterness here? I am a touch competitive. Un peu.)
I have a hard time admitting that I'm simply terrible at something. Which would include Laser Tag. Oh well. The key to the whole evening was that I had fun. Can't you tell? ;P
(Do you sense the bitterness here? I am a touch competitive. Un peu.)
I have a hard time admitting that I'm simply terrible at something. Which would include Laser Tag. Oh well. The key to the whole evening was that I had fun. Can't you tell? ;P
21.2.06
Shooting people
So I'm off tonight to play laser tag (or is it laZer tag?) and thought about how much people like to shoot people. We like it in video games (a relatively new phenomenon - gaining in realism and popularity as each day passes). We like it in live, physical simulations (through safer forms like lasers, airsoft, or paintballs - I list these in order of progressive danger and pain). And, albeit a smaller proportion of "civilized" people, we like to really do it. With GUNS. and BULLETS. pain and death. Ouch.
As in other areas of life, like singing, or drawing portraits, or architecture, accuracy is a much heralded charactistic in the world of shooting people. Accuracy is really what it's all about.
And, for both pride and entertainment value, flair plays a big role too. Shooting a miniscule moving target while dive-rolling onto concrete from an 8-foot high ledge and strafing slightly to one's right is far more excellent than a simple execution-style blast to the back of the head. Though one could argue either way...
I've played video games and actually been pretty good at a couple of 'em. I've played paintball many times and always done well. I expect I'll be pretty good at laser tag tonight. I generally excel at shooting people while avoiding getting shot myself.
I pray I never have the chance to really try it.
As in other areas of life, like singing, or drawing portraits, or architecture, accuracy is a much heralded charactistic in the world of shooting people. Accuracy is really what it's all about.
And, for both pride and entertainment value, flair plays a big role too. Shooting a miniscule moving target while dive-rolling onto concrete from an 8-foot high ledge and strafing slightly to one's right is far more excellent than a simple execution-style blast to the back of the head. Though one could argue either way...
I've played video games and actually been pretty good at a couple of 'em. I've played paintball many times and always done well. I expect I'll be pretty good at laser tag tonight. I generally excel at shooting people while avoiding getting shot myself.
I pray I never have the chance to really try it.
Tall
Here's a tall picture for y'all. I'll try to re-find the link that brought me there so I can give proper credit... browsing has its rewards. This is actually three shots stitched together.
9.2.06
I love Tag games
Okay, in real life, I do love the game of tag. There are so many variations and ways to make it fun. I feel badly for those who are "too old" to play tag (meaning, "I'm too mature to play little kid games loser!") and wish they could have some of their childhood back...
Four Jobs I've Had:
Movie theatre Projectionist/Usher
Skate Patrol
Discipleship Coordinator
Ministry Assistant
...though these are more or less Job Titles I've had, not explaining much about the actual job...
Four Movies I Can Watch Over and Over Again:
Saving Private Ryan
The Passion of Jesus Christ
The Exorcism of Emily Rose
Munich
...anyone who has seen these films would understand I'm joshing wit' cha. These are heavy films for which one viewing is really enough...
The Real List:
Aliens
Anchorman
Monty Python and the Search for the Holy Grail
U-571 (for its underwater explosion scenes...awesome sound...)
Four Places I have Lived:
Bulyea, SK
Calgary, AB
Grande Prairie, AB
Vancouver, BC
Four T.V Shows I Love:
NBATV Daily
CSI (both NY and Las Vegas)
TUF (season 3 is about to start on Spike)
Four Classic TV Shows I love: (New category - added by Andrew)
Seinfeld
Airwolf
A-Team
Knight Rider
Four Places I've Vacationed:
Costa Rica
Okanagan
San Francisco
Grande Prairie (if I use holiday time off work to be there, is it a "vacation"?)
Four Places I've Travelled to on Missions: (New category - added by me)
Egypt
India
Mexico
Switzerland
Four of My Favourite Dishes:
Alfredo covered pasta with seafood
Perfectly grilled steak with mushrooms
Chicken fried rice
Calamari (especially at Lou's in Abby)
Four Sites I visit Daily:
ESPN.com
people's blogs (there's a list, and I don't get to them daily...)
...that's it...
Four Places I'd Rather Be Right Now:-
With my wife :)
Japan
In heaven
On a mountaintop somewhere sunny and clear
Four Bloggers I am Tagging:
Aimee
Kortney
Robyn
Tyson
Four Jobs I've Had:
Movie theatre Projectionist/Usher
Skate Patrol
Discipleship Coordinator
Ministry Assistant
...though these are more or less Job Titles I've had, not explaining much about the actual job...
Four Movies I Can Watch Over and Over Again:
Saving Private Ryan
The Passion of Jesus Christ
The Exorcism of Emily Rose
Munich
...anyone who has seen these films would understand I'm joshing wit' cha. These are heavy films for which one viewing is really enough...
The Real List:
Aliens
Anchorman
Monty Python and the Search for the Holy Grail
U-571 (for its underwater explosion scenes...awesome sound...)
Four Places I have Lived:
Bulyea, SK
Calgary, AB
Grande Prairie, AB
Vancouver, BC
Four T.V Shows I Love:
NBATV Daily
CSI (both NY and Las Vegas)
TUF (season 3 is about to start on Spike)
Four Classic TV Shows I love: (New category - added by Andrew)
Seinfeld
Airwolf
A-Team
Knight Rider
Four Places I've Vacationed:
Costa Rica
Okanagan
San Francisco
Grande Prairie (if I use holiday time off work to be there, is it a "vacation"?)
Four Places I've Travelled to on Missions: (New category - added by me)
Egypt
India
Mexico
Switzerland
Four of My Favourite Dishes:
Alfredo covered pasta with seafood
Perfectly grilled steak with mushrooms
Chicken fried rice
Calamari (especially at Lou's in Abby)
Four Sites I visit Daily:
ESPN.com
people's blogs (there's a list, and I don't get to them daily...)
...that's it...
Four Places I'd Rather Be Right Now:-
With my wife :)
Japan
In heaven
On a mountaintop somewhere sunny and clear
Four Bloggers I am Tagging:
Aimee
Kortney
Robyn
Tyson
I AM CANADIAN!
Member of Parliament
Congratulations! You scored 90!
You may very well be one of the Founder's of Confederation. You're proud of the True North Strong and Free, you can drink beer with the best of 'em! You follow hockey like a religion and may actually have your name etched on Lord Stanley's grail. You can tell the difference between a moose and a caribou at 100 metres and if we looked we'd probably find a maple leaf tattooed somewhere on your body.
Link: The Canadian Test written by TwoGuyswithaHat on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test
Congratulations! You scored 90!
22.1.06
I'm a Movie!!
| The Movie Of Your Life Is A Cult Classic |
 Quirky, offbeat, and even a little campy - your life appeals to a select few. But if someone's obsessed with you, look out! Your fans are downright freaky. Your best movie matches: Office Space, Showgirls, The Big Lebowski |
19.1.06
Exorcism of Emily Rose
Have you seen this movie? I finally got a chance to watch it last night and it is powerful. I had to rent it on a night my wife couldn't be home because she can't handle the horrific visuals and to be sure, it has some pretty intense moments....
I remember wanting to see this film from the moment I first heard about it, even though I generally don't watch horror films, because of its subject matter and a curiousity to see how a north american film maker would approach it. This is a courtroom drama, not a horror film. Though if you are troubled by seeing horrible things, you'd have to be very careful watching this one. I can honestly say that it doesn't pull any punches. I also found out a few months ago that the director is a Christian who believes that horror is the best film genre to work in as a Christian... (you can check it out his interview at http://www.thesource4ym.com/interviews/ScottDerrickson.asp).
I would love to know the true story. The real details and what happened moment by moment, but of course, that would not seem to be possible. So I am taking this movie, this story, for what it is: an eye-opening glimpse into the world of darkness. The craziest part of it all is that I have seen this darkness before and that is where the personal ramifications begin...
Two days before Christmas, 2001, in Chennai, India, a pastor and I prayed for a young girl to be freed from demonic possession. It was the most intense and humbling experience I have ever had. The instant it was over, I cried because I knew how small I was...
The God I serve, the Jesus I believe in, the Spirit I walk with was present to me (and others) at that service that night and He is HUGE. We are so small...
This movie brought so many things flooding back to my mind and I found myself crying again during the scene where the demons revealed their names...the reality that I live in a time and place where darkness has ownership of so much and so many...and we fail to stand up and ask the darkness for its name that we might identify it and remove it from our midst.
I am asking the BIG GUY to show me what's next...
I remember wanting to see this film from the moment I first heard about it, even though I generally don't watch horror films, because of its subject matter and a curiousity to see how a north american film maker would approach it. This is a courtroom drama, not a horror film. Though if you are troubled by seeing horrible things, you'd have to be very careful watching this one. I can honestly say that it doesn't pull any punches. I also found out a few months ago that the director is a Christian who believes that horror is the best film genre to work in as a Christian... (you can check it out his interview at http://www.thesource4ym.com/interviews/ScottDerrickson.asp).
I would love to know the true story. The real details and what happened moment by moment, but of course, that would not seem to be possible. So I am taking this movie, this story, for what it is: an eye-opening glimpse into the world of darkness. The craziest part of it all is that I have seen this darkness before and that is where the personal ramifications begin...
Two days before Christmas, 2001, in Chennai, India, a pastor and I prayed for a young girl to be freed from demonic possession. It was the most intense and humbling experience I have ever had. The instant it was over, I cried because I knew how small I was...
The God I serve, the Jesus I believe in, the Spirit I walk with was present to me (and others) at that service that night and He is HUGE. We are so small...
This movie brought so many things flooding back to my mind and I found myself crying again during the scene where the demons revealed their names...the reality that I live in a time and place where darkness has ownership of so much and so many...and we fail to stand up and ask the darkness for its name that we might identify it and remove it from our midst.
I am asking the BIG GUY to show me what's next...
18.1.06
Unrelated
I've done a couple things this week that I don't really like so much, but am trying to incorporate more into my life: cleaning the bathroom and eating soup (not both at the same time, though maybe that would be the next step in the evolution of these activities in my life...hmmmm....).
I cleaned the bathroom on Monday, and I'm glad I did. Everyone knows the situation: when you can see dirt/filth on anything, everyone knows it needs to be cleaned. In fact everyone knows it needed to be cleaned awhile ago, before anything visible appeared. Now, at this point, I want to be clear that my bathroom was not disgusting. It didn't smell, nor was there anything causing repulsion, but the bathtub needed some scrubbing. That's all really. However, I do want to emphasize that virtually everything that requires cleaning should be cleaned prior to developing visible and/or olifactory conditions. We may be able to make an exception for things that get dirty in an instant, like the inside of a blender glass or the knees on a five-year olds jeans, but back to my original point: I don't like cleaning the bathroom, specifically the bathtub. It sucks. I don't have a problem with toilets at all (maybe that's weird, but a summer cleaning bathrooms at a camp will change that quick :P) and sinks are pretty easy, but I hate floors and tubs. I don't have a rational reason for this. I just can't stand them. So Monday, I did it anyway. Now they are clean and I probably won't touch them with cleaners again until they are beyond dirty (and back to visibly gross). Sad but true.
I've also been eating a lot of soup. I've never been a big soup fan. I think it relates to my lifelong avoidance of hot drinks. I mean, that's what soup is: a big, hot drink with chunkies in it. You can't call it a drink because of the chunks of meat or potato or veggies, which would cause any drinker to gag viciously! I believe that's why the whole cup-o-soup concept never really stuck (or became a staple of society)... because of the chunks. No one wants to chew a drink. It's a universal truth. Now soup is an easy food to prepare. It's easy to store and reheat. It's convenient and simple, incredible advantages for my current lifestyle! It's also extraordinarily versatile, available in a vast amount of flavors and textures, across virtually every culture in the world (every one I've experienced). It was time for me to stop denying soup its place in my culinary vocabulary. So I've been eating a lot of soup, finding it mostly enjoyable, experimenting and keeping an open mind. I've discovered that I like meat in soups. Beef and seafood more than chicken, but all are acceptable. Sausage can be great in in a cajun soup (more like a stew I suppose)! The more meat the better the soup. Now, the reason for this increasing gratification becomes obvious when I realize that this is because the soup is becoming less and less soup and more and more what I'd rather be eating: a big plate of meat. Once again, I digress. Soup is gaining on me and I suppose I'll let it hang around for some time. Perhaps I'll learn to love it.
One last sidenote: I have always loved mushroom soup for some reason. ?!? What's your favorite?
I cleaned the bathroom on Monday, and I'm glad I did. Everyone knows the situation: when you can see dirt/filth on anything, everyone knows it needs to be cleaned. In fact everyone knows it needed to be cleaned awhile ago, before anything visible appeared. Now, at this point, I want to be clear that my bathroom was not disgusting. It didn't smell, nor was there anything causing repulsion, but the bathtub needed some scrubbing. That's all really. However, I do want to emphasize that virtually everything that requires cleaning should be cleaned prior to developing visible and/or olifactory conditions. We may be able to make an exception for things that get dirty in an instant, like the inside of a blender glass or the knees on a five-year olds jeans, but back to my original point: I don't like cleaning the bathroom, specifically the bathtub. It sucks. I don't have a problem with toilets at all (maybe that's weird, but a summer cleaning bathrooms at a camp will change that quick :P) and sinks are pretty easy, but I hate floors and tubs. I don't have a rational reason for this. I just can't stand them. So Monday, I did it anyway. Now they are clean and I probably won't touch them with cleaners again until they are beyond dirty (and back to visibly gross). Sad but true.
I've also been eating a lot of soup. I've never been a big soup fan. I think it relates to my lifelong avoidance of hot drinks. I mean, that's what soup is: a big, hot drink with chunkies in it. You can't call it a drink because of the chunks of meat or potato or veggies, which would cause any drinker to gag viciously! I believe that's why the whole cup-o-soup concept never really stuck (or became a staple of society)... because of the chunks. No one wants to chew a drink. It's a universal truth. Now soup is an easy food to prepare. It's easy to store and reheat. It's convenient and simple, incredible advantages for my current lifestyle! It's also extraordinarily versatile, available in a vast amount of flavors and textures, across virtually every culture in the world (every one I've experienced). It was time for me to stop denying soup its place in my culinary vocabulary. So I've been eating a lot of soup, finding it mostly enjoyable, experimenting and keeping an open mind. I've discovered that I like meat in soups. Beef and seafood more than chicken, but all are acceptable. Sausage can be great in in a cajun soup (more like a stew I suppose)! The more meat the better the soup. Now, the reason for this increasing gratification becomes obvious when I realize that this is because the soup is becoming less and less soup and more and more what I'd rather be eating: a big plate of meat. Once again, I digress. Soup is gaining on me and I suppose I'll let it hang around for some time. Perhaps I'll learn to love it.
One last sidenote: I have always loved mushroom soup for some reason. ?!? What's your favorite?
10.1.06
The New Guy
Most of us will have experienced being the "new guy" (or "new girl") somewhere, sometime in our lives, at school, a club, a social group, a workplace, etc. Throughout my life, I've been the new guy alot and I think that the residual memory of all those new guy experiences pummells me every now and again.
For example, I have encountered a mirage "new guy" experience twice in the last half a year. Maybe it's important to note at this point that I have had at least three legitimate "new guy" periods in the last year. I have had two different new jobs (one started in February 05, then I changed again in August 05) and I got married...not a "new guy" moment in the strictest of senses, but I was certainly the new guy in the home, imposing my fresh presence on the new girl in my life (being married fundamentally changes the relationship, so no matter how long you've known your spouse before you marry, you instantly become new guy and new girl. THat's my opinion). Now back to the mirage encounters:
Both followed holiday time, which lends itself to "new guy" feelings upon re-entry to the real world, so maybe I shouldn't be shocked at my reaction, but dude, it was strong. Coming back from the honeymoon (I'd been gone for three weeks) in June, I'd have sworn I had never given a tour or driven a bus for Landsea Tours before, though I'd been doing it for many months. Upon returning from Christmastime in Grande Prairie, I feel like an alien at ZLC. It is so weird. I wonder what waking up from an 18-month coma would be like...?
This is obviously an overreaction to the situation, but it alarms me and merits introspection I figure. The worst part of it for me is the disconnect that I feel. A greater level of comfort upon returning to one's vocation would be welcome in my life... more of a "Ahhhhh, now I'm home!" kinda thing... I'd like that. Certainly a stark contrast to "Hmmmm, I get the strange feeling I've been here before..." that I've been subjected to. Sigh.
As I mentioned before, I've been the new guy alot in life. Perhaps it all catches up to you someday and that's what I'm sensing these days. Good to be the "old guy" sometime, but you gotta earn that!
Survey time: How many different places have you lived, and what's the longest you lived somewhere?
I'll kick it off: 12 different cities, longest was GP for 8 years (6+2, not all in a row)
For example, I have encountered a mirage "new guy" experience twice in the last half a year. Maybe it's important to note at this point that I have had at least three legitimate "new guy" periods in the last year. I have had two different new jobs (one started in February 05, then I changed again in August 05) and I got married...not a "new guy" moment in the strictest of senses, but I was certainly the new guy in the home, imposing my fresh presence on the new girl in my life (being married fundamentally changes the relationship, so no matter how long you've known your spouse before you marry, you instantly become new guy and new girl. THat's my opinion). Now back to the mirage encounters:
Both followed holiday time, which lends itself to "new guy" feelings upon re-entry to the real world, so maybe I shouldn't be shocked at my reaction, but dude, it was strong. Coming back from the honeymoon (I'd been gone for three weeks) in June, I'd have sworn I had never given a tour or driven a bus for Landsea Tours before, though I'd been doing it for many months. Upon returning from Christmastime in Grande Prairie, I feel like an alien at ZLC. It is so weird. I wonder what waking up from an 18-month coma would be like...?
This is obviously an overreaction to the situation, but it alarms me and merits introspection I figure. The worst part of it for me is the disconnect that I feel. A greater level of comfort upon returning to one's vocation would be welcome in my life... more of a "Ahhhhh, now I'm home!" kinda thing... I'd like that. Certainly a stark contrast to "Hmmmm, I get the strange feeling I've been here before..." that I've been subjected to. Sigh.
As I mentioned before, I've been the new guy alot in life. Perhaps it all catches up to you someday and that's what I'm sensing these days. Good to be the "old guy" sometime, but you gotta earn that!
Survey time: How many different places have you lived, and what's the longest you lived somewhere?
I'll kick it off: 12 different cities, longest was GP for 8 years (6+2, not all in a row)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
