Signs That The Apocalypse is Upon Us

Lunch ideas a la Dewey

2008-10-24T11:56:00.005-04:00

My wife volunteers at our kids' school library. She just sent me this text message:

Dewey decimal system is amusing. Animals is next to Cooking, so these books sit side by side:

639.9 Smi
Sea Otter Rescue

641.2 Bou
A Day in the Life of a Chef

Combing the street

2008-09-18T13:59:00.005-04:00

Stephen,

My wife called me from the road the other day, shortly after she left the house. She called to tell me that The Widow was out in front of her house wearing that same getup, doing some straightening. Only, this time, she wasn't sweeping her lawn with a broom. This time, she was out in the road, picking up tiny pieces of broken pavement. She was grooming the road.

When my neighbor talked to her a while back, apparently The Widow told her that when she dies, her sons won't have to sort through her house or hunt for anything; her house is in immaculate order. That's great, but I don't think the execution of her will is likely to be contingent on whether the pavement in front of her house has been combed.

The Widow

2008-09-11T20:43:00.004-04:00

There's an old woman who lives around the corner on a nearby street. We pass her house all the time. She has the most immaculate yard I've ever seen. The grass is like a putting green. Only, I think it shines. It's like a shiny putting green. There are no weeds. There aren't even any leaves on the lawn, even though she has a tall, full, healthy maple on her extension.

We've seen her out there sweeping her lawn and the street out in front of her house with a broom. Not a rake, but a house broom. And she's always dressed like she's going to the symphony: always a black top and a red pleated skirt with black trim. She's probably about 75 years old. We call her The Widow.

Not long ago, I saw The Widow sweeping her extension again in her black and red Sunday getup. Sitting on the lawn next to the maple was a shiny tea kettle. The main body part was the color of pearl, and the spout was a spotless silver.

I asked my neighbor across the street if she'd noticed The Widow, and my neighbor said she talked to her. She thinks her name is Helen or something like that, which is perfect. She said she grew up in Grosse Pointe, and was taught to be clean in everything. She told my neighbor she should see the inside of her house: "So clean you could eat off the floor!" My neighbor declined the invitation, but was clearly taken with The Widow.

Honestly, I'm a vegetarian!

2008-08-26T13:36:00.004-04:00

Steven,

I saw something interesting the other week as I was driving up north. I can't remember if it was on I-94 or on 127, but on the left shoulder of the highway, I noticed a car pulled over, and then a little beyond that were two people standing in the grassy ditch, with one of them talking on a cell phone. Just beyond the standing people was an RV or trailer or something, also on the shoulder of the highway. Behind those people and the trailer was a hedge of trees, reaching back into the field perpendicular to the highway. As I passed the hedge, just on the other side, I could see cows. Like, fifty of them. And they were all facing toward the stopped vehicles on the shoulder. They stretched back four several hundred yards, and the closest ones were just a few feet from the highway. The thing is, I don't know if the people in the ditch even knew about the cows because they were just on the other side of the trees. But the cows looked like they definitely knew about the people in the ditch. And they looked like they had a plan of some kind. Some sort of terrible bovine plan.

"Blog" is a stupid word

2008-08-08T09:44:00.004-04:00

Dear Steven,

I do not like the word, "blog." Never have. It sounds like something large and involuntary that has made a wrong-way turn in a human baby's esophagus. I feel the need to apologize when I use the word in polite company, or at least to say it in a way that carries the understanding that it is not a word I approve of, and I use it only because it is standard convention.

Please find another word to describe yourself.

Thank you.

No luck

2008-08-01T08:15:00.002-04:00

Steven,

Just a quick update on the search for a minstrel.

Remember the mole-man I told you about? The one with the cheeseburgers? Yeah, as it turns out, the only thing he can play is the opening riff to "Smoke on the Water." I'm a little suspicious of his résumé, too. He claims to have earned a BFA from Wellesley College in 1984.

Five-syllable words

2008-07-26T21:42:00.001-04:00

Do you mind if I call you Steven? I think it would just help me to write if I had a name to attach to your face. I'll work on the face later, but you have to start somewhere, right? The other options I pondered were Diane (because I am a Twin Peaks fan), and Mrs. Crazypants. In the end, I thought Steven was nice. I do reserve the right to change your name (and perhaps, your face) later if I so choose.

Last night, Steven, as I was falling asleep, I started going over five-syllable words in my head. Think of your favorite five-syllable word. Let me guess: the emphasis is on the third syllable, right? Of course, there are five-syllable words that have the emphasis elsewhere -- say, the fourth syllable -- but those are generally not as popular as the emphasis-on-the-third-syllable five-syllable words.

If you still haven't chosen your favorite, allow me to list some popular suggestions:

Auditorium
Thessalonians
Macadamia
Penitentiary
Acrophobia
Hypochondriac
Hippopotamus

Below are some of the less-commonly-claimed five-syllable words of choice. I'm not saying these are necessarily worse than the ones listed above. However, don't you think there's probably a reason that some words are less popular than others, Steven? Ponder that, and read these:

Periodontist
GarrisonKeiller
Articulation
Telekinesis
Louisiana

People don't get me

2008-07-25T13:16:00.007-04:00

Last year I left my former place of employment. I saw the hollow faces of the lifers, their pallid eyes, and their messages scrawled in blood on the cafeteria walls. It all said, "Get out while you still can!" So, I did. (Actually, there were a few other messages, but this one seemed the most urgent.)

There has been a lot of ~~turnovers~~ turn-over this past year at that airline which shall not be named, at least not in this entry. This past week, something like 80 people fell victim to staff cuts. The lucky ones were given pink slips and sent on their way. The rest were fed to the coyotes that roam the brush just outside the fence marking off the airfield.

I've been working at a software engineering company for the past 15 months or so, and the culture here is much different. People seem much more relaxed, and there's a greater feeling of trust. However, it's not just the company culture that's different. My morning commute takes me to Stepford County, which while prosperous, is also a bit sterile. I've been trying to figure out how I can fit in better, or at least feel more at home. People here are really nice, but they don't seem to get me, you know?

But this week, I think I've hit upon a realization, and possibly, a solution.

People don't get me because, for some reason, they don't realize that I'm a folk hero. Somehow, my legendary status hasn't reached these people. So, I've decided that I need to employ the services of a scribe and a minstrel to record and sing about my deeds. A scribe should be easy enough to find. And even if I don't find one, it's no big deal, because I keep being told (along with the other tech writers here) that no one reads the documentation, anyway. However, I don't know where I could find a good minstrel. Actually, there is one employee here where I work who claims to be a minstrel on the side. I'm not sure if I believe him, though. He is a mole-man who can be seen working in the mail room during daylight hours, but at night, he retreats to the underground lair beneath the building, where he makes his home. It's not just because he's a mole-man that I'm not sure I can believe him. After all, mole-people are mostly benign, misunderstood creatures with no more bent to fancy than you or me. However, this particular mole-man has a history of making incredible claims. Last week he claimed to have successfully raised 11 generations of homing cheeseburgers on the roof. Eleven generations? That seems like a bit of an exaggeration to me.

The Church of England Backs Killing Disabled Babies?

2006-11-14T09:26:00.000-05:00

I wish I could say that this post's heading was a gotcha line. Apparently, it's not. According to an article in the Daily Mail, the Church of England believes it is moral and compassionate for doctors to kill or let die babies who are severely disabled. This reminds me of the tragedy of China's dying rooms.

File Under:Reasonable Violence

2006-10-31T14:04:00.000-05:00

Can't really say which is more disturbing here, that they're filming another Rambo, or that there is a level of violence perceived as "reasonable."

File Under:Taking the 'Child' out of 'Childhood'

2006-10-18T10:58:00.000-04:00

Oh, for heaven's sake. Let's not let kids run around and have fun. Then, let's ring our hands and wonder why our kids are so fat and depressed.

People who are in charge of our kids' daily education shouldn't be so stupid.

File Under:Battle Plans Gone to Pot

2006-10-13T11:55:00.000-04:00

Canadian troops are having trouble fighting the Taliban, because marijuana keeps getting in the way. And yes, they've tried burning the plants. According to General Rick Hiller,

"A couple of brown plants on the edges of some of those (forests) did catch on fire. But a section of soldiers that was downwind from that had some ill effects and decided that was probably not the right course of action."

I don't see what the problem there is. Just make sure the troops have enough Doritos.

File Under:Immaculate Confinement

2006-10-12T11:34:00.000-04:00

I'm thinking either the word "pregnant" or "solitary" is being used somewhat loosely here.

File Under:Growing Pains

2006-10-11T10:30:00.000-04:00

In order to get taller, people in China are doing, as Reuters correctly points out in the headline of the article, what used to be called torture to themselves. Oh, excuse me. I mean, alternative interrogation. Okay, let's split the difference and just call it an outrage upon human dignity. Me? I blame Yao for setting the standard so high (pun almost not intended).

Above: Mr. Cleese, a young professional, questioning a person of interest, Gonzo.

File Under:Excuses to Give the Traffic Cop, Questionable

2006-10-05T10:07:00.000-04:00

The results of a recent survey suggest that drivers don't pay attention to the road because their minds are in the gutter.

From the Reuters article:

The study also revealed drivers' pet hates.
Topping the list were tailgaters (28 percent), lane hoggers (20 percent) and drivers who cut in (11 percent).
Other road users who drove too fast and those who drove too slowly were also rated on 11 percent.

I wonder whether it is those who drive too fast or those who drive too slow who have their minds on the extracurricular activities.

File Under:Failure to Communicate

2006-10-04T11:21:00.000-04:00

Great. We have no idea what we're talking about.

Theoretically related post: My version of your story

You should hear how it sounds in my head

2006-09-22T15:28:00.000-04:00

A list of things I've heard others say well, and sometimes practice saying out loud for myself:

"I mean, really." (David Sedaris)
"Who do you think you are? Just who the hell?" (various speakers)
"Oh I see." (Harry Shearer. This is spoken somewhat quickly, after pretending to misinterpret, and then figure out the intended meaning of, something that has been spoken or written.)
"Well, good afternoon!" (George Kell. This one has to be heard by the original speaker to really understand. Kell used to play for the Detroit Tigers, and then went on to the broadcast booth for play-by-play on WDIV, Channel 4, in Detroit. He'd start his telecasts on bright, sunny afternoon games with this greeting in his characteristic, enthusiastic, drawl, and then continue to tell his audience that it was a "beautiful day for baseball in downtown Detroit.")

File Under:Facial Hair for Justice

2006-09-13T10:46:00.000-04:00

Yes, bin Laden is still at large, but don't worry: this should get him caught.

Tagged?

2006-09-05T15:11:00.000-04:00

I've been tagged. Which means either:
a) I'm about to get whacked
b) I now have cooties
c) I have been asked to make a reckoning for myself as to some aspect of my life that others may find interesting but I wouldn't generally think to just mention otherwise.

I skimmed the few blogs that I visit from time to time, and was relieved to find the answer is most likely c. I was relieved, anyway, until I realized that I'm about to offer up something not even I find interesting. Fortunately, I have a place to hide this information which is virtually guaranteed to go all but unnoticed: my blog.

They call it a meme. I don't know what that means. If I read it as me-me, I can't even do this. If that's the case, let's just end this right here. However, I see it as même, which is French for "same," and doesn't really make sense, but I'm sure there's a perfectly good reason for it.

So, without further ado, here's nothing:

1. One book that changed your life:

"Caring is Creepy," by the Shins. Oh, you said book? Geez, that's harder. I should probably level with you: I don't read much. Not books, anyway. I'm not that good of a person. I know people who love books. They're always reading something, and they're well-versed in everything. They understand Kafka references, and make little parallels between their lives and those of the Lilliputians in Jonathan Swift's whatever-that-was-called, as they gently swirl the wine in their glasses and pause to note the oakiness of the flavor. I nod my head pretending to know what they're talking about, but I can't help but think that "Lilliputian" sounds like a porn star name. Then I drink the rest of my beer right out of the bottle.

But if I had 12 seconds to come up with an answer, I'd probably say Three by Flannery O' Connor. O'Connor was wickedly funny and had a way of getting to the point soon enough for people like me to be able to stay with it, while making the characters and their surroundings absolutely fascinating. Besides, this is like the literary equivalent of David Lynch. She gives me hope that I can enjoy reading intelligent fiction, and that perhaps someday I'll have a literary reference to throw out in conversation, albeit probably still over a bottle of beer.

2. One book that you've read more than once:

This whole thing is about books, isn't it?

Okay, let's see, there's gotta be one I've read more than once. Does Hop on Pop count? No? Fine. How about Catcher in the Rye? Yes, it was in high school. Yes, both times. Yes, it was assigned both times.

Oh, I know. The Bible, NIV version. I did read that cover-to-cover twice. I started a third time, but I don't think I got too far.

3. One book you'd want on a deserted island:

A DIY book that would describe in perfect clarity how to build a sink-proof boat made of natural materials found on deserted islands.

4. One book that made you laugh:

One? Well, if I couldn't mention Sarah Vowell's The Partly Cloudy Patriot or David Sedaris' Me Talk Pretty One Day, perhaps I'd mention Jon Stewart's America, or any one of the Far Side Galleries.

5. One book that made you cry:

Sorry. I got nothing here.

Here's a question, and I know it's going to make me seem like some insensitive beast, but here it goes: Why in the world do people -- okay, mostly women -- read, view, and listen to stuff that makes them cry? Especially fiction? Fiction, here, meaning stuff that isn't real that someone made up and decided to use to emotionally manipulate his or her audience in order to take their money. People actually go to the movies because they know the story will make them cry. They pay money for this. Money spent to be weepy. They spend hours reading books that will make them sad. How is this practical? Why not just set out and decide you're going to have a crappy day? That way, if you don't have time to watch the Lifetime channel, you know you'll be depressed anyway. I mean, really.

6. One book you wish had been written:

Yes, it Really Does Matter That You Know How to Use an Apostrophe.

7. One book you wish had never been written:

Any book whose hype far outweighs its quality and/or has "inspired" box office dreck. To wit: Any of those insuferably dull and formulaic Harry Potter books and The DaVinci Code.

8. One book you're currently reading:

Just got finished reading Cash, the Autobiography by Johnny Cash. Just finished listening to Me Talk Pretty One Day, and John Bunyan's The Pilgrim's Progress parts One and Two. Currently listening to Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim by Sedaris. I've also always got the illustrated version of Strunk and White's Elements of Style nearby.

9. One book you've been meaning to read:

I've tried several times to read The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver, but each time have been interrupted, and had to start over because I forgot what I had already read. My mom got it for me as a gift several years ago, and I am looking forward to sitting down with it and reading it. I know I'll enjoy it.

10. Tag six people:

There are not six people who read this blog. I would, however, be interested in what Hugh has been reading. Ernie Jo also has recently mentioned a book she read, and I'd like to hear more. Finally, I don't know if Jennifer ever stops by here or not (my guess is no), but she'd be a good one to read from.

Oh, and as a postscript, here's a quote from a fictional character who, in fact, reminds me much of myself:

"Hey, I'm not the smartest guy in the world, but I'm certainly not the dumbest. I mean, I've read books like The Unbearable Lightness of Being and Love in the Time of Cholera, and I think I've understood them. They're about girls, right? Just kidding. But I have to say my all-time favorite book is Johnny Cash's autobiography Cash by Johnny Cash."

-Rob Gordon, High Fidelity

File Under:Demotions of Astronomical Proportions

2006-08-24T11:16:00.000-04:00

Forget everything you thought you knew about Pluto. It is no longer a planet.

So, what, the mnemonic goes, "My Very Excellent Mother Just Served Us Nine"? That doesn't make any sense at all. How are kids going to remember the planetary order?

How about, "Mister Vindictive Evil Magistrate Judge Served Us Notices"?

Anyone else have any ideas? Leave a comment.

File Under:Unfortunate Hiring Decisions

2006-08-19T09:58:00.000-04:00

If you're a plastic surgeon, you might do well to not hire a web designer with grammar issues who apparently wants to be a B-movie director, or something. The Sydney Morning Herald reports this injustice done to the poor good doctor, among other things:

The text told the reader that immediately after the operation, when facial scars and bruises were obvious, "very young children will be scarred of you ..." A later version referred to the risk of scaring, and said that "scaring is kept to a minimum".

File Under:Signs that the Financial Hardship is upon Your Company

2006-08-16T15:41:00.000-04:00

Northwest Airlines wants its employees to go dumpster diving? What?!

File Under:Breast Augmentation Saved My Life

2006-08-16T10:14:00.000-04:00

I take back every disparaging and sarcastic remark I've ever made about breast implants. Apparently, they can save your life. Who knew?

File Under:We Didn't See This Coming

2006-07-31T10:44:00.000-04:00

At least one scientist thinks that the Invisible Woman may be on to something. According to Reuters:

"She guides light around her using a force field in this cartoon. This is what could be done in practice," (Dr. Ulf) Leonhardt told Reuters in an interview. "That comes closest to what engineers will probably be able to do in the future."

Still no word as to whether the Wonder Twins' powers are likely to ever be available to the general market.

My version of your story

2006-07-28T10:20:00.000-04:00

I don't fit in with most of the personal blog demographic. This is because:

a) I am not a girl.
b) I am not a teenage girl.
c) I am not a post-college-aged woman.
d) I am not a mother.
e) I hate avatars (see a through d).
f) I am not a porn-obsessed teenage boy, college student, or post-college-aged man.
g) I do not pretend to believe that what I have to say could possibly be as close to interesting to you as it is to me.
A note of clarification: most of the blogs I read regularly also do not fall into the category described in g. So no, I'm not taking a shot at you, in case you're wondering.
h) When possible, I avoid emoticons and abbreviations in my blogs.
i) My rule regarding exclamation points: One in any given sentence is enough. More than one in any sentence are too many.

Not sure how I was going to get there, but the point I was going to eventually make was that there are abbreviations that I see in lots of blogs, that I have found to have more humorous alternatives. For example, DD is supposed to equal Dear Daughter. Granted, DD is tons easier to write, but in my head, I see it as Dungeons and Dragons. Or maybe, Double Density. DS equals Dear Son, but I read it as Double-Sided. OMG!!! is supposed to stand for Oh My G-d!!! but I think from now on, I'll read it as Old Man Garrett!!!

Plug these in to your favourite blog read, and tell me if it isn't more entertaining. You know, like MadLibs.

AFAIK = After Falling Asleep, I Kill
BIL = Bill
BTW = Booker T. Washington
DH = Designated Hitter
FIL = Filmore, California
FWIW = Fort Worth International Warehouse
GF = Goals For
IM = Inconvenient Mittelschmerz
IMO = International Maritime Organization
IMHO = I'm a Ho
J/K = Jack Kerouac
LOL = Land O' Lakes
OTOH = Oh! That's Orbison's House
SIL = Stuff Inside Lasagna
WTF? = Where's the Film?
YMMV = Your Mom's Motorized Vehicle

Feel free to add your own.

File Under:Dog's Best Friend

2006-07-27T14:02:00.000-04:00

In a scene that must have happened at least once or twice in a Looney Tunes cartoon, an innocent below-stander saved a dog who was thrown from a window. The hard way. (It seems like this story should somehow involve a piano or an anvil or something like that).

File Under:Mammoth Disgrace

2006-07-25T15:20:00.000-04:00

Oh, come on. Like you wouldn't clone a mammoth if you had the chance.

I gotta get this off my chest

2006-07-24T16:07:00.000-04:00

If you are female, and if you've been blessed with a large bosom, you don't need to prove it by wearing a too-small top. In fact, you know how when a guy who should be wearing a belt is leaning too far in his seat and he ends up plumbing?

Yeah. Same thing.

Punctuation: the catharsis of hidden emoticons.

2006-07-21T12:36:00.000-04:00

I'm all about reducing stress. Need to write a nice letter that you'd rather not write to someone you'd rather not know? Try this.

File Under:Love and Rockets

2006-07-12T12:09:00.000-04:00

Yeah, because what's more romantic than space?

U2 (The W-Dub Mix)

2006-07-06T11:43:00.000-04:00

I'm quite sure this will offend some people, seeing as the source material was from Bush's 9/11 speech. However, I've decided to post it for two reasons:

It's been way too quiet around here, and,
I think this is funny

Credits: thepartyparty.com and Shlog
Thanks to Michael for sending this along.

File Under:What, No Lightbulbs?

2006-07-01T16:49:00.000-04:00

This woman, at least, swallowed her hardware. Maybe not the brightest bulb in the fixture, but fortunately, unlike this guy we read about earlier this week, her bulbs are still in their fixtures.

File Under:How Did They Do That?

2006-07-01T14:34:00.000-04:00

Warning: This video is disturbing, creepy, weird, and absolutely beautiful. Not to mention amazing.

The video is from a performance by Royale de Luxe, a theatre group that apparently specializes in this kind of thing.

You might need Quicktime 6 to view it. It's worth the download.

File Under:How Many Doctors Does it Take to Remove a Lightbulb?

2006-06-29T11:49:00.000-04:00

I guess I should issue a warning for this story.

It involves a proctological nightmare. And also a prety good reason to stay out of prison.

From Rueters:

"Mohammad, who is serving a four-year sentence for making liquor, prohibited for Muslims, said he was shocked when he was first told the cause of his discomfort. He swears he didn't know the bulb was there."

Kingdom Coming or Kingdom Divided?

2006-06-27T11:42:00.000-04:00

A few weeks ago, I heard an interview on Fresh Air with Salon's Michelle Goldberg, author of Kingdom Coming: The Rise of Christian Nationalism. The book's website describes the work like this:

In Kingdom Coming, Goldberg demonstrates how an increasingly bellicose fundamentalism is gaining traction throughout our national life, taking us on a tour of the parallel right-wing evangelical culture that is buoyed by Republican political patronage. Deep within the red zones of a divided America, we meet military veterans pledging to seize the nation in Christ's name, perfidious congressmen courting the confidence of neo-confederates and proponents of theocracy, and leaders of federally funded programs offering Jesus as the solution to the country's social problems.

With her trenchant interviews and the telling testimonies of the people behind this movement, Goldberg gains access into the hearts and minds of citizens who are striving to remake the secular Republic bequeathed by our founders into a Christian nation run according to their interpretation of scripture. In her examination of the ever-widening divide between believers and nonbelievers, Goldberg illustrates the subversive effect of this conservative stranglehold nationwide. In an age when faith rather than reason is heralded and the values of the Enlightenment are threatened by a mystical nationalism claiming divine sanction, Kingdom Coming brings us face to face with the irrational forces that are remaking much of America.

The interview with this soft-spoken, well-reasoned author disturbed me. One, because it was an uncomfortable view of a population I belong to at some level; that is, I am a Christian whose politics are informed by his faith. But there was something else that I couldn't quite put my finger on. I wondered if Goldberg wasn't missing something. You see, I do believe Jesus offers us solutions to social problems. That's because I believe Jesus offers us what each one of us desperately needs at our cores: reconciliationon with the Creator.

However, I also believe that faith and reason are not mutually exclusive, and that my Christian worldview is not part of an irrational force intent on remaking America. Is there no room in Goldberg's America for faith and reason? For Christianity and the Enlightenment? For belief and tolerance?

Today, I found this article on Slate. It gives me hope. It also reminds me of why I prefer Slate to Salon.

File Under:Clemency, Feline

2006-06-23T16:20:00.000-04:00

A Bridgeport, Connecticut judge has ordered a cat to permanent house arrest. A cat. For being dangerous. Because he has claws, is sneaky, and doesn't take well to the Avon lady, apparently. Clearly, Connecticut isn't South Jersey.

Lewis - dangerous, but safe.

File Under:Occupational Hazards

2006-06-23T15:17:00.000-04:00

When I was about 12 years old, I had a paper route for about five months. I was always afraid of the big, loud, dogs. But the threat of being attacked by a suburban alligator never even occurred to me.

Turning the big one-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

2006-06-17T07:57:00.000-04:00

My friend Carson! informs me that my one billionth second will be coming up on July 12th. More precisely, I believe it will be sometime between 7:09:40 a.m. and 7:10:39 a.m. I know, I know -- I don't look a second over 986,745,992.

File Under:O Art, Where Art Thou?

2006-06-15T10:59:00.000-04:00

If I were the artist in this story I think I'd be pissed. This is kind of like having your cover page submitted as your entire entry in an essay contest.

"It is accepted that works may not be displayed in the way that the artist might have intended."

As a not-altogether-unrelated note (proudly displaying things that aren't there), I have a perfect record of no comments on any post on this non-archived view of my blog.

File Under:Not Without MySpace

2006-06-14T21:43:00.000-04:00

It's not that I hate MySpace.com. It's that I despise MySpace.com. This doesn't help change my opinion.

The right wrong number?

2006-06-13T15:17:00.000-04:00

My wife told me about a funny thing that happened to her last Friday.

As background, you should know that there is all kinds of yucky road construction happening on US 23 near I-94, and then construction projects that have been going on for a while on I-94 near US 23. Naturally, if you can avoid those areas, you do.

My wife had just been online looking up the best way to avoid the construction, as we had a meeting to attend in that direction in the evening. (It was on our way to this meeting that she told me this story.)

Not long after she had consulted Mapquest, she received a call on her cell phone from some guy who said, "I don't know if this is the right number. Can you tell me if the construction on 23 South goes past I-94?"

Now, I don't know why this is, but had I received the phone call, I would have first told the caller that I was not who he was trying to reach, but I would be happy to do my good Samaritan bit and tell him what I knew. My wife, on the other hand, was happy just to tell him what she knew about the construction. He then asked her about an alternate route on Carpenter Road, and she was able to give him advice. He hung up, figuring that he had just spoken with the helpful woman at the Department of Transportation or some such place. I think that's so cool.

Me, who hesitates...

2006-06-13T14:45:00.000-04:00

Every springtime when all the flora is in riot, I think about taking pictures. Of course, I usually think about this as I see something striking as I'm driving by -- say, a splash of purple flowers against the stoic grey side of an abandoned storage shed a few blocks from my house.

I thought about this Friday night, as I passed by said contrast of vivid living color and monochrome on Maple Road, and I told myself once again that springtime in Ann Arbor is fleeting, and I'd better hurry up and get around to taking that picture if I'm ever going to do it, because less hardy petals are already falling from plants in my front yard. I promptly forgot about it.

However, the next morning I was reminded about it again as I drove on a wet road past orange cones, a fire truck, and an empty spot on the side of the road where an old storage shed and a sprouting, defiant plant with purple flowers used to be. Apparently, the AAFD had a training session that morning.

File Under:Your Belly's Unbloused.

2006-06-05T11:26:00.000-04:00

A roadblock has been set for young women trying to seduce ~~alter~~ altar boys. (Actually, I really think this is great. The whole midriff baring, low-cut jeans thing is a big pet peeve of mine.)

p.s. This is my hundredth post! Do I win something?

Almost too painful to look at...

2006-06-04T22:23:00.000-04:00

A hand-written sign at my favourite ice cream and donuts place in Ann Arbor.

Impressive, no?

File Under:Alternatives to Filibuster

2006-05-31T10:53:00.000-04:00

You can't have any pudding until you finish every last bit of legislation. Hey! No spitting that out in your napkin, now!

My favorite part of the story as reported by Rueters:

"Wang later spat out the document and tore it up after opposition lawmakers failed to get her to cough it up by pulling her hair."

Thoughts from an American wedding reception

2006-05-22T11:01:00.000-04:00

I was at a wedding this weekend, which was a lovely ceremony indeed. The reception was held at an elegant, historic campus building downtown. The food was delicious, and the bartenders made good gin and tonics (I ordered one from each so I could see who made the best one).

The DJ was a bald (head shaved, I'm sure) 30-something-year-old man in a tux whose favourite expression was, "put your hands together for..." and whose main purpose in life seemed to be to level the playing field amongst those who can't hear and those who can via very loud music.

After the cutting of the cake (they did it the nice way -- these are classy folks) began the traditional collective exhale from the wedding party and the traditional first dances (for which we, the guests were once again enouraged to put our hands together when the participants were introduced), followed by the all-in cutting loose of everybody on the dance floor.

Now, it's true, not everyone in that hot, crowded, loud banquet room was white. The bride, herself, is half-Japanese. But most were middle class Americans; the kind that you could find at almost any wedding reception in the midwest. And like those other truly American wedding receptions, the get-down section of this party started with the old standbys which inexplicably infest almost all American wedding receptions: "Celebration," "YMCA," "We Are Family," etc. I left before finding out if the Chicken Dance was played.

But in a non-airconditioned moment of startling clarity perhaps in part influenced by two gin and tonics (pretty much a toss-up between the two bartenders), as I watched the sweating, paunched, mostly pale mass jump, sway, and make half-assed attempts to form their arms in the letters of Y, M, C, and A, I wondered to myself, "Why is it we're so worried about keeping the Mexicans out?"

File Under:The Wrong Guy

2006-05-16T12:18:00.000-04:00

All he wanted was a job. Poor [g]uy. This reminds me of the Monty Python Job Interview sketch.

UPDATE: There was word that Goma is a cabbie and was waiting for fare, as opposed to being a job applicant. I don't believe that is true, but I know he's not an IT specialist. However, he gets high marks in my book for his on-the-fly answers and relative composure after the initial shock. Video of the unfortunate interview is here.

File Under:Losing Their Religion

2006-05-16T11:33:00.000-04:00

It's sad when someone loses faith in held beliefs. It's angering when it's because of a fictional story. For an excellent look at The Da Vinci Code, check out Nuclearity. Be sure to read the blog and listen to the podcasts.

File Under:Holy Book Review!

2006-05-16T10:42:00.000-04:00

Slate Magazine's David Plotz is blogging the Bible. A lifelong Jew decides to find out for himself as an adult what is in the Bible that he grew up with, and he's sharing his raw reactions. Very interesting. So far, he's gotten to the flood, which is appropriate considering the weather much of the US has been experiencing lately.

File Under:Bluffing in the Buff

2006-05-15T22:43:00.000-04:00

I've never understood the draw of televised poker tournaments. However, I think that this could be a great spectator sport if it comes to pass.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

2006-05-15T12:02:00.000-04:00

It's nice to have a concise excuse.

I give credit where credit is due.

Fille Under:Ugly Concepts

2006-05-12T15:30:00.000-04:00

Ugh. That's it. Ray Del Salvio is not getting on my Christmas gift list anytime soon.

A sign that the Old Regular Baptists are upon us.

2006-05-10T09:09:00.000-04:00

My friend Perry and I stopped in to the Old Regular Baptist Church to try the pies, and also to see what Old Regular Baptists look like. As it turns out, Old Regular Baptists are indeed old, and have southern accents, even up here in southeastern Michigan. Also, as it turns out, fryed pies are like fried pies, only more so.

File In:Folders. Forty-Three of Them

2006-05-09T11:34:00.000-04:00

Over at 43 Folders, you can get some good ideas for simplifying your life. You should probably get a pencil and write some of the ideas down. For example:

It’s easy to remember how many teaspoons are in a quart (192) with this simple mnemonic:

Over nearly every hamburger, under nearly dead raccoons—every delayed nanosecond inculcates nearly every teenager you think wears oranges.

File Under:Phoning it In

2006-05-09T11:21:00.001-04:00

It's good to know that nothing, not even curfew, can stop love.

File Under:(Un)True Love Waits?

2006-05-08T15:15:00.000-04:00

Wouldn't it be great if this were a post about Tom Waits? Yeah, but it isn't.

I don't like New Year's resolutions, because they're like diets: they fail once the sense of urgency leaves the room to take a smoke break, or when focus wanes, or temptation becomes stronger than expected, etc. And, much like virginity lost, once a pledge is broken, it's broken. So guilt comes in and purpose goes out, and the pledge has failed.

I'm not really sure what this has to do with teen virginity pledges and their apparent correspondence to untruths, but I do know that the Church has done a pretty good job at telling kids not to have sex, and not so much at communicating their unchanging place in God's kingdom if they do fall out of the virginity van, or after other failures in their lives.

Is that what the lying is about? Wanting to be accepted in the holy club? Not wanting to be asked to turn in their membership cards?

I would love to see purity taught not as a diet, but as a lifestyle. And not just to kids. And not just in regards to sexuality. What would the church look like if we admitted our impurities to ourselves and to God, but actually believed ourselves to be new creations in Christ, and thus strived in hope to live our lives that way?

File Under:Mind Power

2006-05-05T10:42:00.000-04:00

This would have made my high school Humanities class a little more interesting for me.

Thanks very much to Greg for the enlightenment on this.

Locke, stock, and barrell-chested.

File Under:May - December (several years later) Romance

2006-05-02T15:27:00.000-04:00

Yeah, it seems like a big difference now, but when he's 1200, she'll only be 1271.

More fun with apostrophes!

2006-05-02T11:03:00.000-04:00

My good friend Erin sent me this picture. How could you not include an apostrophe where there needs to be one, put one in where there shouldn't be one, and then take a picture of your store and use it as an advertisement? Boggling.
**********
So, by now you know I have a thing about inappropriate public display of apostrophes.

If you've got any you've seen, let me know in the comments section of this post, and we'll see if we can't get a picture of it up here.

File Under:Abuse of Language

2006-05-02T10:52:00.000-04:00

Bloggers are just spelling things however the hell they want to.

File Under:Dumb Criminals

2006-04-28T10:42:00.000-04:00

Maybe this guy and this guy could get together and share a few stories over a bottle of booze or two and some chocolate.

Click it to the man

2006-04-27T11:16:00.000-04:00

Where I work, we have been given the vague task of figuring out where we can save money. (Nevermind that most of us don't even know what money is being spent on...) I'm wondering if I should submit this idea.

Respect the apostrophe

2006-04-26T11:33:00.000-04:00

If you take a gander over to the right side of your screen, you'll find I've added to the list of links I want you to check out. If you're clever, you'll notice they all have to do with our friend, the apostrophe. Take a look at them, if you're into painful unintentional comedy. But first, let us take a refresher course in the proper use of the apostrophe from the Book Doctor, Shirley Gottlieb.

File Under:"I Thought 'E' Meant 'Enough'"

2006-04-26T10:30:00.000-04:00

Things in California are getting desperate. The way things are going, people might even start walking or biking to work!

File Under:Stupid and Naked Redux

2006-04-25T10:58:00.000-04:00

Learn from others' mistakes. For example, remember the naked trap door spider guy? The lesson to be learned was that doing something stupid while naked makes it even more stupid.

File Under:Violence comma Diner

2006-04-24T16:54:00.000-04:00

You can't do this. Even if you did have a bad day because you signed an offer sheet with the Chicago Bears, you can't beat up a dude to the point of loss of consciousness because he's a nerd. Besides, the rule is, if you're eating at Denny's at 3 a.m., you're not allowed to make fun of anybody.

File Under:London Underground

2006-04-24T11:14:00.000-04:00

Did you ever see the play, Sweeny Todd? Well, apparently what's below Fleet Street might be almost as disturbing. Actually, come to think of it, one might explain the other.

File Under:Language Arts

2006-04-22T11:09:00.000-04:00

As you may know, I believe the certain inevitable demise of our planet is tied in some inextricable way to the erosion of language within its native speakers. Laugh if you want, but it's true. I just haven't found the missing link yet.

Yesterday at work, one of our pilots was telling us about a situation he experienced one time as he was departing from an airport in Mexico. As he told it, he couldn't understand the instructions from the tower, because the person giving them spoke in broken English with a heavy accent. He described her instructions like this:

"It's English, but it ain't English, you know?"

Indeed.

File Under:Where's the Money, Lebowski?!

2006-04-20T12:03:00.000-04:00

Even if it were worthless, why would you choose the loo to dispose of anything other than a fish?

File Under:Standing Room Only

2006-04-14T11:11:00.000-04:00

It starts with innocent base stealing, and eventually comes to this.

File Under:Tax Relief

2006-04-14T10:20:00.000-04:00

We are almost done with our taxes. Really, I swear we are. But while this year there is no need for his services, I think that Carmine A. Sodora is a flippin' hero and a genius.

File Under:Bottled Water comma A Case For

2006-04-12T11:34:00.000-04:00

They're really not that bad with a very large tequila.

Hide Your Blog; There's a Killer on the Loose

2006-04-11T22:58:00.000-04:00

I'm going to let you in on a dark secret.

I'm a killer.

My victims are usually blog postings, but if need be, I'll strike down a thread on an e-mail list.

I got my start young, well before there was such a thing as an online community. The cool kids with the Corey Feldman, devil-may-care, lessez-faire attitudes would congregate before school, and if one of them was nice enough to slip me a "what's up?" or do one of those half nods that start with the head at even level and end with the chin slightly raised, I'd take the bait and try to participate in the conversation, which would then fall off the proverbial table with a dissonant clang. I was then left to try to pretend I wasn't being stared at or pitied.

Understand, while our peers were chillin' to Axl Rose as he slithered around asking, "Where do we go now?" my friends and I were obsessed with decoding the lyrics to the Beatles' "I Am the Walrus." Decidedly uncool.

Of course, as I got older and priorities shifted and perspective was gained, it no longer was about being cool or in, but about relating to people. And since I am a nice, quiet guy, I have found lots of friends who are happy to have me around. But that doesn't stop me from killing conversation at work or in church board meetings, or in venues where my presence has less to do with selection and more to do with function. You see, the problem is, I need an editor. I can take any healthy, lively, pertinent conversation, and start to interject my thoughts (or dumb jokes, or anecdotes), and before I've taken four breaths, I've gone so far out of bounds that no one can wrestle the conversation back on track. I also, apparently, have a weakness for run-on sentences.

This brings me back to your blog. Beware.

I've noticed an uncanny parallel between my face-to-face conversations with a group of people who didn't necessarily invite me into their huddle and the threads I find my way into in online communities and personal blogs.

You see, I don't post much. I generally am content to watch passively as discussion goes on around me. Truthfully, I'm practicing restraint, as I don't want to say something unless I have something to say. Which is why what happens next perplexes even me.

Eventually, a posting will come around to a book I've just been reading, an album I've been listening to, a movie I saw, or a traffic accident I narrowly avoided. If anyone is qualified to make a statement now, it is me, and if I've ever been timely in my words, that time is now. So, I loft my words of wit and wisdom ever so gracefully, like a Great White Dove of Enlightenment into the crowd who have gathered around to struggle through a seemingly unsolvable conundrum. The dove ascends, turns, dives, and hits the ground with a spectacular thud. Conversation stops. The once-lively topic is now dead and limp.

So you've been warned. If I find my way into your online neighborhood, you'd better lock your blog.

What's So Funny About Laughter?

2006-04-10T10:16:00.000-04:00

My wife and I picked up a few DVDs from the library this weekend. The great thing about getting DVDs from the library is you can bring home stuff that you normally wouldn't risk paying a rental fee for, but have been told you should see some time. This was basically true for two of the movies we brought home: I Heart Huckabees, and Sex, Lies, and Videotape. We found Huckabees to be great fun. Very funny. Sex, Lies, and Videotape was also suprisingly funny. You've probably seen it, but if you haven't, the movie is mostly about lies and videotape, but Lies and Videotape, Mostly doesn't really sell.

We also picked up a collection of documentaries called Full Frame Documentary Shorts, vol. 1. We haven't had time to watch any of it except for the first film. But that film is the purpose of this post.

In 1999, Mira Nair (Monsoon Wedding) made a film documenting an interesting phenomenon occuring in India, specifically, in Bombay. Co-directed Adam Bartos, The Laughing Club of India explores an entire, thriving subculture of Indians who have discovered the benefits of laughing for up to 40 minutes per day in a group.

It started with a doctor who had an idea and shared it with a few skeptical friends, and now there are upwards of 500 of these clubs in India, with tens of thousands of people participating every morning. Their rituals include warm-up laughing before diving into several different full-out laughing exercies involving different styles of laughing. My favourite was the one that had young professional men and old women alike sticking their tounges out of their mouths and laughing forcefully.

I said, "God bless you" already!

2006-04-07T22:25:00.000-04:00

Does it ever annoy you when people continue to sneeze, no matter how many times you say, "God bless you"? I had a friend tell me after a (rare) third sneeze that I was just reaching for blessings. After someone else sneezes more than three times, I need to say "STOP IT!" quietly under my breath or else I'll explode.

File Under:Stupid Nudist Tricks

2006-04-04T11:25:00.000-04:00

If you're going to torch a spider, please make sure you are wearing clothes.

File Under: Cost-Effective Therapy

2006-03-31T14:20:00.000-05:00

The most rednecked thing I do is always done on the first day of the year. After my family and I spend the night at the house of our hospitable best friends in Grass Lake, my friend and I go out behind the garage to the edge of the woods, armed with a pair of earplugs each, and one .22 guage. Our victims aren't ~~peasant~~ pheasant or deer, but old dishes, panes of glass, building scrap, and champagne bottles from the night before. I've been known to yell the name of whatever frustration is on my mind at the time before squeezing the trigger and, if my aim is true, before the satisfying splintering of glass, pottery, and occasionally brick.

All this to say, I can understand the theraputic value in this.

File Under:Money for Nothing

2006-03-31T13:09:00.000-05:00

Nigerian soccer officials are allowed to take bribes
now, apparently, as long as they don't actually let it influence their calling of the game. Which kinda calls into question just how a bribe is defined, and to a lesser extent, how to report such earnings for tax purposes.

In related news, the MLB is considering now allowing players to use steroids as long as they don't let that influence their performance on the field.

File Under:Career Damage comma Self-Inflicted

2006-03-31T11:40:00.000-05:00

In what will surely be defined as a teachable moment, a youth minister taught by example a lesson in forgiveness and utterly insane personal violence. Perhaps he should try his hand at a different career. Like, Little League coach, or something.

Thanks to Chris L for throwing this my way.

Speaking of Apocalyptic Things...

2006-03-28T16:59:00.000-05:00

I saw a bumper sticker on the back of an old car yesterday. It said, FINE ARTS FOREVER. At first glance, however, I transposed the N and the R in the words, "fine arts." I think the phrase FIRE ANTS FOREVER would be more appropriate for a sandwich board.

File Under:Is It Tax Deductable?

2006-03-23T13:07:00.000-05:00

Here's a good cause: A guy with a boring job is accepting monetary donations toward early retirement. As of this writing, the website listed in the article redirects to Google, which may explain why he's got something short of $60 donated thus far. Poor guy. Perhaps he should have been a lion tamer, instead.

File Under:Politics comma Schoolyard

2006-03-21T10:38:00.000-05:00

What do you do when your political rival won't leave? You call the cops. That'll make him take his ball and go home.

File Under:Harboring a Gnome of a Criminal

2006-03-20T13:42:00.000-05:00

I hear Willie Nelson did the same thing with his collection of pot people.

Buzz Off.

2006-03-16T15:51:00.000-05:00

I work in an office where nobody has any hands. That must be the case, because all of the phones here are equipped with speakerphone. And, since they have speakerphone, everyone feels compelled to use that particular feature.

The use of the speakerphone is bad enough. It results in an office full of people yelling at their phones, which are located exactly three feet from their heads. That makes it hard to get any work done, unless you consider commenting via e-mail to other employees about your next cube neighbor's conversation, work. But add to that the completely wretched "buzz-in" feature that allows anyone in the company to suddenly hear everything that's going on in your office without any warning, and you've got yourself a genuine telecommunicative pain in the butt.

Earlier this week, my boss (who I like; don't get me wrong, but he has an unhealthy appreciation for/dependence on speakerphone and the buzz-in feature) buzzed me (of course) and asked me to come back into his office. He had some additions to a document revision we had been working on. I stood in front of his desk for a minute or so while he tried to find the page he was looking for. Then, someone buzzed him.

"Hey. Hello?" (This is how all buzz-in/speakerphone conversations start.)
My boss stopped looking at the papers in front of him, and turned to the phone, three feet from his head. "Yeah! Hello?" (This is the standard reply to all buzz-ins on speaker phone.)

The buzz-er continued to set up a semi-complicated scenario that he wanted my boss to comment on.

About half a minute later I realized, suddenly, that I was no longer in the room as far as my boss knew.

I walked back to my desk, muttering under my breath about the damned
speakerphone and buzz-in system. If a standard phone call (you know, with the ring?) is like a solicitor ringing your doorbell while you're having a conversation in your house, then a buzz-in speaker phone call is like a solicitor walking into your living room and pushing your guest off the couch.

I was thinking about this for a while at my desk, when my boss buzzed my phone. I picked up the receiver and he told me he was ready to go over that document now.

File Under:It Really Tied the Room Together

2006-03-16T14:42:00.000-05:00

If you're going to Lebowski a rug, make sure it isn't
from a courthouse. In front of a security camera.

File Under:That's Just the Drugs Eating.

2006-03-15T15:59:00.000-05:00

If you must sleep, please don't eat.

File Under:Utilities comma Bonus

2006-03-13T11:21:00.000-05:00

I thought this kind of thing was only possible on The Simpsons.

File Under:You Can't Go Back Home

2006-03-13T10:06:00.000-05:00

Reversing farther than necessary is apparently a ticketable offense in Australia. Who knew?

File Under:News Flash comma Safe Cycling

2006-03-10T13:14:00.000-05:00

Oh, come on. It's not like Lady Godiva wore a riding helmet.

File Under:Gut Bomb comma Atomic

2006-03-10T13:01:00.000-05:00

Hungry? You won't be after eating this. And I mean, like, you'll never be hungry ever again.

But what am I going to do until THEN?!

2006-03-08T16:02:00.000-05:00

I just saw this trailer. This looks like the best movie I haven't seen yet. June 2 is only two-and-three-quarters months away. But it seems like a full three months.

File Under:Confusing the Customer

2006-03-08T11:56:00.000-05:00

As a technical writer, I'm not sure what to make of this. The following excerpts do lend some credence to tech writers' claims that developers do not make good writers:

Product developers, brought in to witness the struggles of average consumers, were astounded by the havoc they created.

and,

Most of the flaws found their origin in the first phase of the design process: product definition, Den Ouden found.

File Under:Jacket Required

2006-03-06T11:43:00.000-05:00

I'm trying not to be judgmental about it, but there's a certain degree of absurdity in this. Does this mean Keslinger is going to cancel its gig at next week's curling match, as well?

Thank you, Chris L, for uncovering this story.

File Under:Obsessions comma Creepy

2006-02-28T09:22:00.000-05:00

Sen. Clinton says it's an obsession. Mr. Rove contends that it's merely a "platonic professional infatuation."

She called me a brilliant strategist? Really?

File Under:At Least He Was Wearing A Rubber Chicken

2006-02-26T23:44:00.000-05:00

If you're going to go to the trouble of being an exhibitionist, wouldn't you want to practice your craft someplace where people are watching?

According to the story, as he was being escorted out of the building, Mr. Poultry in Motion was caught yelling, "Please will someone bring me my clothes?"

I don't think he'd get too much opposition to that request.

This does bring to mind a question, however: Why are naked people funny? Because they are; you can't deny it. It doesn't matter what a person looks like, if he or she is going au natural in an unexpected setting, it's automatically funny.

No School Like the Old School

2006-02-19T22:30:00.000-05:00

Perhaps this is the generation I belong to. I caught this septuagenarian playing Galaga at Max and Erma's. On a Ms. Pac-Man arcade console.

Of course, I did take this picture with my cell phone.

Hang Up and Lift!

2006-02-18T09:46:00.000-05:00

I am officially removed from the current hip generation, even if technically, I fall within the same 18-year period that loosely defines the border of a generation.

At the YMCA the other night, I saw a skinny So-and-So-clone using the weight machines while talking on a cell phone. She wasn't even using a hands-free device.

There oughta be a law. Or maybe an ordinance.

File Under:Really, No Apology Necessary

2006-02-17T17:05:00.000-05:00

Good thing Cheney didn't kill his lawyer friend, or Whittington would never have been able to live with himself.

Between Cupids and Bunnies

2006-02-16T13:07:00.000-05:00

I happened to be in Meijer during lunch on Tuesday, which was Valentine's Day. On the grocery side of the store, there were still plenty of Valentine's Day gifts and gift ideas: candy, champagne, flowers, cards, candles...all red, pink, or white. Still plenty of people buying these items, too, no doubt to take home from work at the end of the day for their loved ones.

At the same time, on the other side of the store, the merchandise side side, were Easter displays filled with merchandise: baskets, bunnies, more candy, etc., all of it in bright pastel spring colors. I suppose I could wonder where the green St. Patrick's Day merch was, but that's not the purpose of this post.

Every year we muse about how the Christmas stuff comes out earlier and earlier each year at stores, but there is a reason for that: Christmas sells. If you are a retailer, why not take advantage of the Christmas season and extend it as much as you can get away with it? Truthfully, I have no problem with it, save the tired, insipd pablum they call Christmas music that I am inundated with from the moment I take Step One inside the store until I can get the cheese out of my ever-loving head seven hours after I leave. But other than the musak, I have no problems with stores bringing the holiday decor out after Halloween. After all, we're heading into the cold, Advent will be upon us in a few weeks, and Thanksgiving before that, which is sort of a holiday season Opening Day, if you will. It's emotionally appropriate, and even amidst all the Frostys, Santas, and Bing Crosbys, one doesn't have to look too deep to find Baby Jesus and the Holy Family. How can anyone be offended by a baby born to earstwhile parents amidst angels? Who can say they are put off by hope, peace on Earth and goodwill to all?

But Easter is different, isn't it?

Easter is offensive. Easter draws a distinct line in the sand. Life and death. Belief and unbelief. It isn't hard to ask someone to believe in the birth of a baby -- it's happened 7 billion times within the last century, alone. But to ask a person to believe that a man rose from the dead and changed the landscape of religion, not to mention politics, forever? To challenge the perceived and accepted understanding of the relationship between God and humanity? And if that isn't enough, the man who was raised from the dead wasn't an 85-year old man who died naturally in his sleep that was loved by all and hated by none. He was a young man that was killed because of the unrest caused by the things he said and did, whose followers loved and whose opponents hated. And the culpability for his death is still debated 2,000 years later by the ethnic and geographical descendents of those who were around at the time. Oh, and he claimed to be the Son of God. Kinda hard to create a huggable plush doll for the occassion and sell it at Meijer.

Even still, it feels as though something is missing from the celebration of Easter; for me, anyway. In the Church, we recognize Christ's coming to Earth with the four-week period of Advent. We light candles to remind ourselves and each other why Christ came. We sing songs such as "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel," which is beautiful and plaintive. "O Come, o come Emmanuel and ransom captive Israel!" It is a beautiful, aching, longing for what will be while acknowledging what desperate times we are in at present. Which, of course, makes Christ's entrance so much sweeter -- it isn't just good to have Christ, it is absolutely necessary. We can't understand the light without struggling through the dark night of the soul.

The Church also has something of a pre-Easter season of Advent, called Lent. It is a season, traditionally, of sacrifice and willful abstinence. We give up distracting pleasures for the purpose of remembering Christ, why He came, and why He died. Because, ethnic and geographic politics notwithstanding, Christ died because it was the only way we could be clean enough to enter God's presence at the end of our days. Christ died for us. Because we need Him to. Because our sins require payment of death. Also hard to sell in a plush doll at Meijer.

Of course, Lent is also observed by many who have no overtly religious reasons to do so. As if taking a huge gasp of air before diving under the water in an attempt to swim a length of the pool (without cheating?), we buy paczkis and revel with beads and enjoy a guilt-free day of gluttony before getting serious about our diets, or our attempts to stop smoking, or whatever habit we may wish to break. I don't mean to belittle a secularized Lent; anything that might help us reconsider our need to consume can't be a bad thing, regardless of motivation. But again, it's hard to commercialize abstinence of anything. Unless you're Jenny Craig, there isn't a whole lot of money to be made in the business of self-restraint.

So, let us pretend for a moment that Meijer was going to commemorate the six-plus weeks between Ash Wednesday and Easter with a display of seasonal merchandise. What would be appropriate? All black for Good Friday? A display of no merchandise at all for Lent? Of course I am not asking Meijer to do this, nor do I expect it to happen. Still, it does seem a bit incongruous to have brightly colored pastel things marketed to me to celebrate Easter, when I haven't yet gone through the season of somber reflection in Lent or the mourning in Good Friday.

*****
Do you commemorate the season of Lent? What do you find meaningful?

File Under:Lawyer Season

2006-02-12T22:34:00.000-05:00

If you're accidentally going to shoot somebody, make sure it isn't a lawyer. Unless, of course, you can get away with it because you're the Vice President of the United States.

UPDATE
There's more to this story, and of course I hope and pray that Whittington makes a full recovery, and I'd hate to make too much light of a situation that has potential danger involved, but apparently Cheney's good friend and hunting victim has more than just a flesh wound.