wastebasket confessional

New year, old look

2010-03-22T18:53:00.003-04:00

I didn't like the new template too much. The more I played with it, the more I hated it. Black is kind of like blue jeans, it goes with everything. Blogging has taken a back seat the last couple of years. Not that I dislike blogging, it's just that Facebook is easier. I think the fact that the comments have to be so short allows me a certain pithiness that blogging just doesn't. I feel like I should type more here. So, here I go. Wastebasket Confessional is back in action. I'm back in black.

Lame but thrilled

2009-04-30T14:11:00.003-04:00

I haven't kept my promise to blog. I apologize. Let me give you the rundown:

I start a new job next week.

How great is that? This wasn't anything posted... just from networking on Facebook (and you thought it was just to invite people to play Mafia Wars). IT is kind of an incestuous industry, and it would be too much to explain here, so let's just say I'll be consulting with a bunch of people with whom I used to work and for a company that I kind of worked for once.

I knew something would come up. And I'm glad too, because the posts on this blog have been real downers. So, starting tomorrow, I'll probably blog about cake again, since it's my final cake day and I have it on good authority that there will be plenty to be had. In the meantime, since both of you reading this have been chomping at the bit for more posts, just rest knowing that more shall follow tomorrow. Maybe with pictures and everything!

Till then...

Gallows humor

2009-04-07T08:11:00.003-04:00

I think my idea for blogging about my experiences as a statistic have gotten a little too serious. I mean, it is serious, but I don't like being so serious and introspective all the time. So today, I share some gallows humor that seemed highly appropriate.

(Click the image to see the last frame.)

This is good, but has not been my experience at work. This is because no one ever believes the Man. It's more of a relief that you have made it so far. That the rug isn't being pulled out from under you yet. The next is better:

Yes, that feels about right.

Blessed indeed

2009-04-02T22:59:00.002-04:00

What a great day! I was able to volunteer at the kids' school and cap off the day with a lacrosse game. Good day to be a Dad. I guess that's all this whole job thing boils down to me. I'm a Dad who loves his kids. I want to see them taken care of, and that's why I work. I have not been particularly happy with my job the last few years, so I don't feel a great loss there. What I fear is not my career being stunted: it's not having a paycheck so that I can provide for my kids.

But today was great. I got a job lead, finished updating my resume, and, besides checking my email and Facebook accounts every 15 seconds to see whether I had received any news, I was not manic about anything. Last time I was unemployed, I really hit the wall. I learned through that experience. Granted, it's only been a few days, but the last experience taught me the way God works things out. And let me tell you, He does things His own way.

Last time I was unemployed, I was actively attending seminary. I had my plans all set. Seminary, ordination, full-time vocational ministry. Even after I was unemployed, I kept telling God in my head just how He could make all of this happen through my unemployment. Our best laid plans are nothing but crap, though.

I have learned more about myself in the last five years than at any other time in my life. I'm anxious to learn more, and hopefully change from the experience. God's ways are best. I've come to accept that I might never complete my seminary education, might never enter the full-time vocational ministry. That's just fine. He has blessed me in many more ways. And I wouldn't change a thing.

It's not you, it's me

2009-04-01T23:55:00.003-04:00

Day one wasn't too bad, despite the overwhelming lack of knowing what to do. Being laid off for me is more startling than anything. I have worked since I was fifteen years old. To be told to get lost, to be rejected, really, is difficult.

The fact that I was told that the decision had nothing to do with my performance was comforting yesterday. Not that I don't believe the Man, it's just that I was raised, like many typical Americans, to believe that hard work, that quality work, that competent work, was rewarded. Working in the computer industry has taught me otherwise. Being told that the decision was about dollars strikes me the same as the teenager whose girlfriend dumps him with the line, "It's not you-it's me." It's not comforting at all.

Where's the cake?

2009-03-31T23:02:00.002-04:00

It has happened. The economy found me in my comfortable new office space. Only one more month and my free cappuccino is gone. The Powers-That-Be have decided that a skeleton staff is far too big for the tasks demanded of the workers in our little Charlotte outpost...they now demand marrow and blood. I became part of the blood-letting.

Before you think that I'm gonna get all "whoa-is-me" and all down on the Man, I must say that he is treating me quite fairly in all this. The package is fair, my treatment has been fair, and I will be able to slowly ween myself from the evil cappuccino machine so as not to go through the night sweats related to any sudden stops. This too is fair, I suppose.

I hope that this blog will serve some sort of purpose for these days...perhaps as an encouragement for others working through unemployment and the uncertainty that comes with it. Perhaps my writing will improve. (And the peasants rejoiced!) Most of all, I hope it serves as a testimony to what my God can do. Will do.

As many of you know, I have been considering a career change for some time, so maybe this will be my chance. Maybe my next job will see me back in the computer world. Who knows? I do know that God is faithful and that He will care for me and my family regardless of my employment situation.

The last time I was unemployed, I struggled through a streak of depression...about three months worth. Right now, my number one goal is to not let it get to that point. I will try to chart my course on this blog, try to let you into my world a little. In the end, I'll read all of these posts and try to learn something about myself and the God Who created me in His image. At times this might be funny, or adventurous, but it will also likely be hairy in places. But in order to be the person that God created me to be, I must face these challenges (James 1:2-4). I intend to come out on the other side a stronger Christian and a stronger man.

So, let's all buckle up and pass the Twinkies. It should be quite a ride.

New year, new look

2009-03-11T19:42:00.002-04:00

For those that have visited my little corner of the Internet before: yes, I chose these colors. Why switch from the black? It was sucking the life from my soul, that's why! I aim to post more this year, so I thought something a little more subdued might be more attractive to newcomers and passers by. Call it part of my grand marketing scheme, if you will. I might change it again, so don't get too attached to it. If you think I should switch back, let me know. I'd love to get some feedback...you know, help me to feel like I'm not all alone on the World Wide Web.

New U2 single and other disappointments: UPDATE

2009-02-11T19:45:00.004-05:00

It looks like someone has been reading this blog after all:
http://www.atu2.com/news/article.src?ID=5231

New U2 single and other disappointments

2009-01-31T08:31:00.014-05:00

I love U2. Like other people that love U2, I have been waiting with anticipation for their new album since the last one they released way back in 2004. U2 is one of those bands that likes to integrate new sounds into their albums, to push the boundaries of their artistic creativity, and to stay current with many of the trends popular in the industry at the time so as to constantly grow their fan base. Being part of the fan base, I have read every article describing what the new album would sound like: they went to Morocco for some middle eastern inspiration, they hung out with Kanye West and recorded with Mary J. Blige and promised to integrate some hip hop (a great concern to me), and of course, the earliest indications were that it would indeed be straight ahead rock 'n' roll. On March 3 we will finally get to hear if what we read in all of those articles is really true, when No Line on the Horizon is released to the ears of the waiting public.

As a teaser, U2 released the first single early. Called "Get On Your Boots", it shows some promise. I think it's good, but I hope they released the worst stuff as singles first. It's the sixth track on the album, which does little to instill confidence, as I would think that if there were stronger singles they would be placed earlier on the album.

To answer the question that's forming in your head right now, yes, I will buy the album the day it is released and no, I have not purchased the single from iTunes. I had not even heard the song through anything but my dinky computer speakers until it was played on the radio yesterday on my way home from work. That was a better experience to be sure, but it raised another, even more nagging question than how good the single actually is. There was something in the verse of the song that bothered me, some skeleton in the top 40 closet that wouldn't go away. And then it came to me, all at once:

"She's so mean but I don't care
I love her eyes and her wild wild hair...
Living in the wild, wild west..."

Yes, I was able to place the chorus to "Wild, Wild West" after each verse. Easily. I'm talking about a group called Escape Club and their (only) number one hit, "Wild, Wild West" (1988). I have included the video below:

While I cannot say that this song is among my favorites, it does have a catchy element to it. Now, here's the U2 single. Remember, only the verses are similar:

Granted, they aren't totally identical, but I think the similarities are greater than those between George Harrison's "My Sweet Lord" and the Chiffons' "He's So Fine". If you don't know how that one turned out, a federal court ruled that the former Beatle had "unintentionally copied" the earlier song.

Just for fun, I looked up the lyrics to "Wild, Wild West" and played "Get On Your Boots" while I read the lyrics out loud. Fun to be sure. (This is going to come across as blasphemy to most U2 fans, but I think Escape Club actually has a better chorus.)

So, anticipation is growing. I'm saving my pennies for the new album and will probably at least make an attempt to see them in concert (good luck with that, since Charlotte is a small enough city to get them on a third leg at best for one night at best). Still, I have U2 to blame for getting that ridiculous other song in my head. And you now have me to thank.

You're welcome.

Career change

2008-08-15T20:38:00.012-04:00

Today was "cake day" at work. Cake day is a wonderful day. Our break room, usually chocked full of apples, grapes, and banana halves, is transformed into a cakey wonderland. Muffins. Lemon Bundt cakes. Sometimes even donuts. (Mmmm. Donuts.)

The lemon cake is the best. Moist on the inside, the icing gives it an ever so slight crunch that I find quite satisfying. These are sweet moments. Times reserved for reflection. Being stuck at work, reflection is really just code for "wishing I were anywhere else." While reflecting today about all the other places I would rather be, I had an epiphany.

Don't we live in the land of opportunity? Doesn't opportunity knock often, begging us to reach out and grab it? I decided that now is the time that I finally follow my dream.

And become a taste tester.

Preferably the kind that tastes cake.

Lots of cake.

All day long.

Thirty five hours a week. (If I can have my dream job, it's going to be one that doesn't require a full forty hours.)

So, I began my search. First up was TastyKake. Sanitation workers. Production line workers. Nope. No tasters.

Next up, Little Debbie. This looked promising, because they even had positions in North Carolina. All for drivers. Long haul drivers.

How on earth do these people expect to create an exceptional product if they are hauling stuff around all the time? I need to be where the magic happens: as close to the kitchen as possible. Little Debbie was thus dismissed from further consideration.

In a last ditch, desperate effort to make all my dreams come true, I went to the very top. The cake-baker of cake-bakers. The ultimate in gas station cuisine (next to Slim Jim) --Hostess. Hostess doesn't seem to post jobs on the Web, so I ended up at the "Contact Us" page, pouring my soul into a message that I can only hope reached the right people:

I was scanning your site for information about careers with Hostess. I have been a fan of your products for years...back when "King Dons" were still "Ding Dongs" in fact. Those were the days. Anyway, I think I have decided that I need a career change, and have decided that I should be a taste tester or some other job where I can eat cake all day long. Of course, I have always appreciated your delicious pudding and fruit pies the most, so I'm open to a job where I can eat pie all day long too. Please let me know of any job opportunities in this area and I will send you a resume, picture, and proposed workout schedule. My current employer will require at least two weeks notice, and I would like to start by at least Christmas. I look forward to your response!
Brad

I will keep you appraised of how this SOS grabs the attention of the CEO, whom I imagine will hire me post-haste. In the meantime, my coworker sent it to her sister, a corporate whiz, for her thoughts:

This is great. Whether they actually hire him or not is debatable. But, if I were guessing, I'd say the email is at least going to get some visibility in the company. This is the type of message that gets forwarded all over a company. If nothing else, they might use it, or him, in a commercial or ad.

Advice : the resume should include some experience with Little Debbie, Sara Lee, and Krispy Kreme in order to position himself as an expert. Broad experience across an entire industry is a plus on any resume. He might also want to offer expertise in breads as Hostess is owned by the same company that owns Wonder Bread.

Tell him good luck. I'm pulling for him. Everyone should have a chance at their dream job.

Yes. My dream job. I have big ideas. If her thoughts about making me a character in a commercial come true, I could be bigger than Jared! And by bigger, I mean literally. The Anti-Jared. This has so much potential.

Bana-fana-fofana

2008-07-24T11:28:00.007-04:00

Gaze upon the following picture and think about what it is that you see:

Yes, bananas. But if you concentrate really hard, you will see that half of the banana in the center of the picture is missing. Mysterious, isn't it?

This photo was taken in the break room at work. I have one of those employers that supplies snacks for its workers. Good deal, right? But there is someone that consistently comes in and cuts a banana in half...and leaves the half they aren't eating.

Who does this? Am I to believe that a whole banana is just way too big to consume in one sitting? Are they watching their weight perhaps?

The more pressing question is: Who on earth wants the other half?

I can see if they set out a large bowl of fruit salad (yummy-yummy). With fruit salad, you load up a serving for yourself and leave the rest. But whole fruits are different. Especially bananas. Their very texture lend them to being a "one eater only" type fruit.

For example, I can eat a half-eaten hamburger that one of my children leaves, but if they start on a banana, it's theirs. Eating the rest of that banana would certainly induce gagging.

Consider this as a public service announcement from Wastebasket Confessional...if you cannot eat a whole banana, don't take it. If you really need potassium and the only thing available is the banana from the break room, PLEASE take the whole thing. No one else wants the remaining half.

For Dan...

2008-07-18T18:22:00.000-04:00

Angst at the pump

2008-04-16T20:47:00.003-04:00

I have had it. I can take no more. I am so tired of filling up my car. Someone has to do something to stop the madness. I'm not talking about gas prices, either. It's the flippin' pumps. It's like playing 20 questions just to fill up. Consider the typical fill up:

(Swipe card.)
Pump: Is this a debit card? Press Yes or No.

(Press Yes.)
Pump: Enter pin number then press Enter.

(Enter pin number.)
Pump: Would you like a car wash?

(Press No.)
Pump: Would you like to buy a Slurpee?

(Press No with force.)
Pump: They are super good! We have Coca Cola and Blue Raspberry!

(Swear at pump. Press No.)
Pump: That is a mean word!

(Kick pump.)
You: "I just want to fill up my tank!"
Pump: Lift handle, raise lever, select grade, and begin pumping.

(Smile smugly knowing that you have forced the pump to do your bidding. The questions are over. You will finish this and be on your way!)
Pump: Would you like a receipt? Enter Yes or No.

(This last part really bugs me. In North Carolina, if you drive off without paying, you lose your license automatically. Fine. But what if they mistake you for the guy that drives off without paying? I like to have ready proof of purchase. But then, I'm paranoid.)

(Press Yes.)
Pump: Take receipt.

Are all these steps necessary? Isn't there some way that you could go to the gas station and just buy gas without jumping through all the hoops? It was easier just to pay cash.

What's really important in DC

2008-03-31T20:53:00.000-04:00

Redskins trump politics.

Play ball!

2008-03-31T19:06:00.007-04:00

For those that have known me any length of time, you know that I am fairly harsh when it comes to baseball. Yes, I have ranted about the slowness of the game, the lack of athletic prowess involved, and the seeming determination of Major League Baseball to kill what's left of it.

I have proven in the past that I'm not above using this blog as a real confessional, so I will now confess something that is harder to admit than just liking the music of John Denver...

I think I'm starting to like baseball.

Yes, after years of living in denial, the nagging of certain friends, and bashing the game more than even Euro-football, it took my sons' involvement to help me see the beauty and fun of the game. So, here's a recap of opening day...

St. John Neumann Defenders
Charlotte, NC is renowned for its warm climate, drawing Yankees from far and wide to this "New Southern" town. Last Friday saw temperatures close to 80. Saturday saw temperatures in the 60s...for about 10 minutes. By the time the game ended, it was 57 degrees and falling. But not our spirits! The boys played an excellent game. Though the books marked it a loss, it was a spirited contest which saw this group of 9-12 year-olds take on a team that the previous year won the area championship. I'll let the coach give you the recap:

Just wanted to let you guys know what I thought of our first game on Saturday. In just a few words, I thought it was great. First pitch of the game was a strike. First batter we faced struck out. In two different innings, with two different pitchers, we held the other team without scoring. In the last inning it only took us only10 pitches to shut them down and all three outs came from defensive plays by the DEFENDERS. I got to watch the whole team leave the dugout to high five and congratulate one our own after he hit a towering home run into the parking lot. By the way, we know where not to park when we play on that field. We also had our first double play, and might I add that it was unassisted to end the inning. In 6 innings the other team only struck out 4 times. That means we made 14 plays from the field for outs (OUTstanding). It's hard to believe all this happened in only our first game, but it still gets better. We even had a play at the p late and nailed the runner trying to score.

My son played left and right fields, and even had a turn on second base. While he was struck out once, he had a mean hit right down the third base line. Not too shabby for his first time playing since tee-ball. It looks to be a great season.

Idlewild Baptist Bulldogs (the "Dawgs")
The first game was cold, this one was colder. But even with the wind blowing right through us the whole time, the Dawgs put on an impressive display of skill and determination. My son played catcher for three innings, which he especially liked because, as he said, the equipment kept him warm. But what difference is a little weather? The fans were fired up, the kids were prepared, and the peanuts were boiled (?!?).

As I already mentioned, my son played catcher for three innings, a surprise to me because I had never seen him practice that position before. But he did an outstanding job. It brought back memories of watching my brother play the position when he was a lad. As for hitting, he struck out once and walked. He advanced to second at one point before the inning ended. It was a fun game to watch.

You can see pictures and get updates on the Dawgs on their online home.

Overall, it was a great day, and one that has dawned a new chapter in my own life. My Dad used to take us to nearby Baltimore to see the Orioles play, and I didn't fully appreciate it then (sorry Dad). But, a new day is dawning and I'm a new man. DC has its own team, and even my Dad's converted to their cause. Maybe I'll make the pilgrimage along with him. And I can thank my boys for the journey.

Tormented writer

2008-03-23T00:49:00.013-04:00

I was looking at a sign at one of the local Jack in the Box restaurants the other day. The sign boasted an offering of breakfast "Day or Nite."

I hate it when "night" is misspelled that way.

Then I thought, "Did they spell it that way to be cute? Or did someone do it because they really think it's spelled that way?" So, now I'm not sure how I should take it: were they trying to be clever, or are they really ignorant? Should I be filled with mirth or pity?

I wonder what they really get out of spelling it incorrectly. Besides reinforcing the great ignorance of the English language that is already so prevalent in our society and ensuring that other ignoramuses pick up on it and begin spelling it that way, they only saved themselves the cost of printing one extra letter.

"Nite" is four letters. "Night" is five. You can swap the "e" in the former for the "g" in the latter and buy an "h". Maybe they would even save a buck or two by not purchasing that "e" in the first place. Everyone knows that buying a vowel costs more than a consonant.

This is the same kind of consternation I experience when I go through (not "thru") the "10 Items or Less" lane at the super market. Ten items or LESS? It should be "Ten items or FEWER"!

Writers have a hard time going out.

Pod together now

2008-03-10T22:26:00.008-04:00

As of my birthday in January, I am the proud owner of an 80 GB (80 GBs!), 5th Generation Apple iPod. It is so choice. I highly recommend picking one up if you have the means. (Apologies to John Hughes.)

I read an article in the August 17, 2007 Charlotte Observer that intrigued me about iPods and the people that own them. (Yes, it's old news. I intended to post on it way back then, but never did. Owning my very own iPod reinspired me.) The title of the article was "iPods Exposed". In it, columnist Jeff Elder went up to the plugged-in people on the street and interrupted their musical bliss by asking, "What are you listening to?" Hilarity ensues. (One guy admitted to Elder that he was listening to "Elmo's Song." I shudder to think of it...)

The thrust of the article is that our iPods are supposed to say something about our personalities. I thought this was interesting. What was more interesting was that some psychologist at UNC Chapel Hill told him that asking what someone has on their iPod is "voyeuristic". "It's like asking, 'What kind of underwear do you have on?'" What underwear, smart guy?

But seriously, if our iPods are extensions of our personalities, and our play lists are so secretive, what does that say about who we really are versus the way we present ourselves? Are we afraid to admit who we are? Have we found one more face of the Stranger?

I have decided that it is my duty as a responsible blogger to help all people to embrace who they are. That's right, discerning readers. I want to know what you have on your iPods or other MP3 players. Don't be bashful. Reveal your darkest Elmo secrets to me.

And while you're at it, I also need some advice. Do any of you have any rules about what you put on your iPod? For instance, I have one friend that refuses to put more than two songs from any one artist on her iPod. I met another guy that puts only whole albums on his. Does anyone have any kind of arbitrary rules that you follow regarding your iPod?

Horn broken...

2008-03-10T22:01:00.003-04:00

Sometimes it's better when people don't identify themselves as Christians.

Myself included.

Adventures in Sunday School Planning

2008-03-08T23:00:00.002-05:00

The following two sentences were taken directly from some online material I was using to get ideas for tomorrow's Sunday School lesson. See if you can find what's wrong:

Make the Jesus Craft. It may seem a tad odd making Jesus out of a toilet paper roll, but I think the end result is quite nice.

Goodbye, Farewell, We'll Meet Again

2008-03-01T09:56:00.009-05:00

I just read here that Larry Norman died last Sunday. Norman was legendary in his ability to communicate his faith in an edgy and thought-provoking way, all the while eschewing the Christian contemporary music (CCM) establishment that claimed his work as their genesis.

Norman would never get air play on today's Christian radio stations: he wasn't packaged or predictable enough. Singing lines such as "Gonorrhea on Valentine's Day, you're still looking for the perfect lay" didn't endear him to the establishment, but that was his charm. One famous CCM Magazine article in October of 1995 labeled him a "troubled troubadour" and implied that he was insane. In response, Larry dressed in some old clothes and posed for, and then posted on his website, pictures of himself sprawled next to the dumpsters behind a thrift store, looking unshaven and homeless.

It was this down and outer attitude that made him so approachable to people that weren't in the church, precisely the people to whom he believed he was called to minister. He is quoted in this article as saying, "The churches weren’t going to accept me looking like a street person with long hair and faded jeans. They did not like the music I was recording. And I had no desire to preach the gospel to the converted." Quite a different take than today's CCM industry, which caters to the white, suburban, Republican evangelicals looking for "family-friendly" fare.

That he was influential in his art is unquestioned. He had an influence that went far beyond that of many of the CCM artists of today who sell millions of dollars worth of product a year. How many of them can claim collaborations with Frank Black of the Pixies or Dizzy Reed of Guns 'n' Roses? How many can claim friendships with both Jimmy Carter and Oliver North? In his book Body Piercing Saved My Life: Inside the Phenomenon of Christian Rock, SPIN journalist Andrew Beaujon related the story of a CCM executive who drove Bono to a meeting of Christian artists to discuss the ONE campaign. On the drive over, Bono asked if Larry Norman would be there. That's influence.

I had the opportunity to meet the man himself at a concert he performed at a coffee house in Lindenhurst, IL in 1997. He was very personable and even poked fun at me when my lovely wife told him that I had once mused that we could name our son "Larry Norman". He looked at me and said, "You would do that to a child?"

Until I got an iPod earlier this year, I hadn't listened to much of his music in a while. But in ripping all my CDs to it and listening again, I have realized how fresh and relevant it still sounds, although his best stuff was recorded from the late 60s to the mid 70s. If you have never listened to him, I highly recommend you check out a copy of Only Visiting This Planet. In fact, go to his online store and buy a couple of copies. He didn't die in luxury as most in the music industry do, and the money his family gets through the sale of his music will help cover his lingering medical bills and the cost of a funeral.

He will be missed by many people that hold him dear. He was influential on my own thinking after I first came to faith, and I have listened to his music for countless hours in the last 16 years. I am saddened at his passing, but confident that the mark he left on the world will be felt for years to come.

Larry Norman
1947-2008

What goes around comes around

2007-10-31T17:21:00.000-04:00

It looks like the self-righteous Rev. Phelps and his band of weirdos at Westboro Baptist Church (no link will be provided) owes a few bucks to the family of a marine killed in Iraq. Apparently, the award is greater than the church is worth. Perhaps the good Reverend and his followers could help bury fallen servicemen to repay their debt.

As a funny side note, I went to the online home of Westboro Baptist Church in doing my due diligence for this post and found that they now present their site en español! Classic.

Current favorite song

2007-10-30T07:26:00.000-04:00

I wanted to post something...anything... Nothing witty or clever comes to mind, so I thought I'd share my latest favorite song, John Hiatt's "Dust Down a Country Road" from his 1995 album Walk On. Enjoy.

Awkward...

2007-10-01T20:22:00.000-04:00

So, there I was, in my friends' house, taking care of their cat. Yes, it was 8 PM. Yes, I was a little late. I had forgotten to take the keys to their home with me to work so I had to come back much later. And, to make matters worse, I couldn't remember whether they were coming back that night or the next day.

So, I was watering the plants, and the garage door suddenly opens...and there stands my friend, fresh from two weeks in the great American Southwest, rested, tanned, and finding me in her house at 8 PM.

Now, it wasn't like I was stuffing anything in my pockets, or going through their drawers. But I was in their house. And they were home. But they hadn't been when I first arrived. And I had let myself in.

Of course, I had permission to be there. They knew I would be taking care of the cat and the plants. But, still, I was in their house, when they got home. I felt dirty. Like I had been caught doing something I shouldn't have been.

So, I was caught red-handed, and started babbling like an idiot:

"Oh! You're home!" (Duh!)
"I am feeding the cat!" (Right...that's what we arranged....)
"I swear, this is the first time I came this late! I forgot the key! I promise I have been feeding the cat the entire two weeks!" (By the way the cat is running around she's obviously not dead.)
"I just got here" (As if to say that I hadn't been sleeping there.)

Now, when someone is caring for your home while you're away, you know they are in your house from time to time. But it's pretty much theoretical. Meaning, you don't actually see them there. It's kind of a personal thing, letting yourself into someone else's home. And when they come home and find you standing there...it's just strange. I would wonder why they were in my house, knowing why, of course, but wondering all the same. Then, I would ponder why, if they knew I was coming home, they didn't clear out beforehand.

Thankfully, my friends are quite calm and sane, and only laughed about it. And it looks like I'll never have to take care of their cat again, either.

Good news!

2007-09-26T22:55:00.000-04:00

I just received a call from my brother, fresh off the plane from Iraq (via Kuwait and a few other minor stops, including Charlotte). I am glad to have him home finally. Let's remember to pray for all the other sailors, soldiers, airmen, and marines still doing what they have been called upon to do.

James, I am proud of you. Let's hurry up and have that cigar...preferably over a victory by our beloved Redskins.

Interactive, musical fun

2007-07-12T22:02:00.001-04:00

I read this Q&A with U2 axeman (I've always wanted to refer to a guitarist using that term) The Edge (I think he capitalizes the "The") and thought it would be fun to recreate it with my own music memories. I want to note right up front that I'm no rock star, so some of the categories don't apply to me. In those cases I either fudged it so I could answer, or threw out the question altogether. I don't actually own all of the albums I have listed below, but I can assure you that I either did at one time, or had enough friends that owned it that I heard it plenty.

As a bonus to this post, I thought that it would be fun to open it up to you, the discerning reader, to add your own memories in the comment section.

So, here are The Rules. I will answer the same questions posed to The Edge (with the aforementioned exceptions). After you read my post, you can click on the "Comments" link and answer the same questions. Fun, huh?

And so, here you have it:
My Life in Music: Wastebasket Confessional

The first single I bought:
Can I Play With Madness b/w Black Bart Blues
Iron Maiden, 1988

I didn't buy many singles. I preferred getting the full album, mostly because I didn't buy music unless I liked more than one song. iTunes has since alleviated this hang-up. I am assuming Edge was talking about 7" 45 RPM records when he was talking about singles, and since I'm old enough to have purchased my fair share of vinyl, this one qualifies. It was hardly my first ever music purchase, but this is the first single. As I think back, I did buy some 12" singles. I remember buying an extended version of Duran Duran's Wild Boys, but I don't think that quite fits the spirit of the question. Plus, I would prefer to forget about that period in my life.

I remember buying Can I Play With Madness at the mall because of the novelty of it. I mean, Iron Maiden putting out a 45? Weird. I was an avid Maiden fan and so I had to make it mine. Besides, I had never heard Black Bart Blues, and for about $2.50 I made it mine.

I also bought a Metallica single under similar circumstances, but I think it was after this one. I don't actually remember what was on side one, although I think it was Last Caress. But side two had Breadfan, which I remember liking a lot.

The record that reminds me of being a teenager:
Greatest Hits, Vol. 1 and 2
Billy Joel, 1985

AND

Misplaced Childhood
Marillion, 1985

This was a tough one, so I settled on a tie. Looking back, though, the one musician that was constant among all of my friends was Billy Joel. We all listened to his music. Dan mocked me for listening to the Ramones, John couldn't stand the Sex Pistols, Peggy hated Stryper, everyone hated John Denver--but Billy Joel was well liked by all. And we ALL knew ALL of the lyrics to every single song on this two record album. We all saw him in concert at one point or another. In fact, I heard Piano Man on the radio on the way home from work today, and sang every line at the top of my lungs. The songs on this album always take me back to the parties and other gatherings when my friends were singing along with me.

The selection of Marillion is a bit odd, because it's not an album that I have ever heard all the way through. But I heard side one over and over--and I still love it. The focus of side one is the song Kayleigh, which is still one of my all-time favorites. The songs before and after Kayleigh are Pseudo Silk Kimono, Lavender, and Bitter Suite, but they all blend together to make one long song. This is not a song I ever sang out loud with a bunch of friends, but it must have been on whenever we were on long trips to school competitions ("Blue Crew!"). I hate prog-rock in general, but this album should be in my collection.

The record that made me want to play guitar:
The Power Station
The Power Station, 1985

Okay, well I'm obviously not an axeman (AGAIN!) like Mr. The Edge, so I had to pick an album that made me dream the most of being a rock star. I actually preferred a different instrument on different tracks, but this album was the first one on which I remember playing air guitar. While purists hate the remake of T. Rex's Bang a Gong (Get it On) featured on this album, it was the version of the song on this album that first introduced me to the joys of the air guitar. For those that don't remember the Power Station, this was one of two of the "super groups" that came out of Duran Duran in the mid-80s (the other being Arcadia). It featured Robert "Addicted to Love" Palmer on vocals, the drummer from the 70s disco/funk band Chic, Tony Thompson, and the unrelated bassist and guitarist from Duran², John Taylor and Andy Taylor, respectively.

The record by a local hero that inspired me:
To Hell With the Devil
Stryper, 1986

Neither Sterling, VA nor Washington, DC have pushed out any rock star or other musical act that have especially "inspired" me, so I had use the same standard as The Edge, who chose to look at all Irish acts. Since I'm not Irish, I chose to look at my own home country as a whole, which just happens to be the United States. While that gives me a much better selection, I'm kind of hung up on that whole inspired thing...so I went with one that ultimately inspired my conversion to Christ.

It's hard to tell when I first truly trusted in Christ, but it actually became a memorable experience about 3 to 4 years after I first heard this album. To Hell With the Devil was the first exposure that I really had to evangelical Christianity, and it actually generated more questions than it answered. I trace my search for those answers back to this hair band classic.

My favorite U2 record:
War, 1983

I obviously can't contradict Edge with regard to the album that most inspired U2, since I don't personally know the blokes in U2, and even if I did, I can't "correct" their perceptions of what influenced them. So, I changed this category. If you're playing along at home and don't like U2, you can obviously skip this question. Or, you could be creative and list your favorite album from some other group you like. Say for instance that you like Hanson. You could list your favorite Hanson album. See how easy this is?

I don't like Hanson, but I have liked this album since the first time I ever heard it, which was sometime after I heard The Unforgettable Fire, but before I heard The Joshua Tree. This was the album I used to judge U2 during the 90s (after the release of Achtung Baby, which is a pretty good album) when they were doing all their crappy dance/pop/disco albums. With All That You Can't Leave Behind, U2 returned to their rock sound that is so fabulously exemplified by War, and I forgave them for their output in the 90s.

The record that restored my faith in rock:
Vol. 1
Traveling Wilburys, 1988

Faith in rock? Umm, that's a bit esoteric for me. I always believed, like Huey Lewis, that the heart of rock 'n' roll was still beatin' even when the old boy was barely breathin'. I chose the Traveling Wilburys due to the eras that were represented by this ultimate super group: Bob Dylan, George Harrison, Roy Orbison, Tom Petty, and that other guy (Jeff Lynne from the Electric Light Orchestra-the definite yawn factor in this otherwise great lineup). You had the old and new all represented...okay, even Tom Petty was pretty old when this came out, but he was still current.

I think this album did a lot to reintroduce people my age to the rock and roll that our parents loved. There were precursors to the Wilburys, most notably the success of George Harrison's song I've Got My Mind Set on You (1987), and the re-charting of the Beatles' version of Twist and Shout after it was lip synced by Matthew Broderick in the movie Ferris Bueller's Day Off (it went to #23 on the charts in 1986). But this album introduced a whole new generation of fans to new music from guys that they didn't know much about outside of the local oldies stations and their parents' record collections.

The last record I fell in love with:
Tigerlily
Natalie Merchant, 1995

I only heard this album in its entirety this year since I lived under a self-imposed rock throughout most of the 90s and never bothered listening to anything other than the hits from it before. There is no one that can match the voice of this chanteuse, and this album is absolutely beautiful. This was Merchant's first project after leaving the 10,000 Maniacs, and I would say that it was a good move. For you discerning readers that are regulars here, you have no doubt seen this album displayed prominently in the "Music Currently in Rotation" area located in the right margin. It's been there since I made this fine purchase.

The record I couldn't live without:
Unchained (American II)
Johnny Cash, 2002

This album absolutely rocks. And if you ever watch TV, you've already heard part of one track (I've Been Everywhere is featured prominently on that insipid hotel commercial).

Sonically, it is different from the other, more acoustic, arrangements on the other American projects (those produced by Rick Rubin on American records). This album features a backing band (Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers), and they really let it all hang out. Considering Cash was in his seventies at the time, and was in and out of the hospital quite a bit, this album sounds incredibly lively and crisp. It has everything on it that you could want--spirituality (Spiritual, Kneeling Drunkard's Plea, Meet Me in Heaven, Unchained), excellent covers (Beck's Rowboat, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers' Southern Accents, Dean Martin's Memories are Made of These, and a most excellent version of Soundgarden's Rusty Cage), and classic Cash (Country Boy, Mean Eyed Cat, I've Been Everywhere). If you never pick up any of Cash's newer stuff again, check this out. It's been in my disc changer pretty much since I've owned it.

The record I'd like played at my funeral:
Sanctuary
Claire Holley, 1999

The Pope's declaration notwithstanding, my funeral will be a homecoming celebration. I found this little gem several years ago through some free downloads at Paste Music's site. It's a simple collection of old spiritual standards (and one original) accompanied by guitar, Hammond B-3, dobro, and mandolin. Her elderly father even contributes background vocals on Higher Ground. Clean, simple, and not the regular CCM schlock.

Let's hear how you would answer...click the Comments link and let 'em fly.

Of Papal Bulls and Papal Bull

2007-07-11T20:55:00.000-04:00

Whatever.

15,000 Square Feet of Total Elvis!

2007-07-11T20:15:00.000-04:00

I spent last weekend in Sevierville, TN with my wife's family. The company was great, but the location was not what I expected. While I knew we'd be in the vicinity of Great Smokey Mountains National Park, I had no idea that we would also be right around the corner from Dollywood and the aforementioned King. It was a redneck wonderland, complete with a NASCAR Speedpark.

Who knew that the road getting into town would be as busy as Myrtle Beach on Biker Week? To make the traffic worse, the town had a Super Wal-Mart, which turned out to be the busiest spot in town.

My brother- and sister-in-law (BIL and SIL) own a time share with a resort--one of those deals where you have your choice of several locations--and this was where we decided to go. As part of our incentive was the promise of free gifts for going and listening to the "90 minute presentation", which included a discounted room at the Governor's Inn (which, come to think of it, was located on Nascar Dr.). For you discerning readers that have experienced similar deals, you know about The Presentation. You go and the nice people try to convince you that you need to buy into the time share because you own it and can pass it on to your children. The most insulting part was where they told us that if we bought one and passed it on, that could be our "legacy". Gag.

I hope that I pass on more to my children than that.

But, back to Sevierville. I am constantly amazed at these United State of Generica. I can go to any city in this country and never really leave home. Think about it, you can read the USA Today in the lobby of your hotel as you sip your coffee from Starbucks. You can then go shopping at many fine outlet malls, which aren't really anything special, just strip malls for the impulsive buyer where you can get Nike tennis shoes, Bose speakers, and fine cutlery all at a discount. The difference between this outlet mall and the one near you? The location, because it certainly isn't the merchandise.

Besides the view of the Super Wal-Mart, my hotel balcony overlooked a Books-A-Million, a Texas Roadhouse (at which I did eat because as our parting gift following The Presentation, the little lady and I were given $75 in gift certificates to the place), and a bunch of other chains that just seemed to blend into the background. I cannot for the life of me imagine why anyone would go to such a place for vacation.

Just as an aside, I fear the generic-tization of things has now sadly crossed our borders and into other countries. In July 2001 I was in Dublin, Ireland on business. I asked my coworkers where a good place would be to grab dinner. The first response I got was an enthusiastic, "there's a new TGI Friday's!" Retch.

I mentioned Myrtle Beach earlier in this post. This town was very similar to Myrtle Beach except that a) there was no beach, b) there was no Ron Jon's, and c) the hooty bars and put-put golf courses were replaced with bust-yer-gut-all-you-can-stuff-into-yer-mouth restaurants that had shows. I am not kidding. There was a Chinese restaurant that featured an acrobat show, there was a wild west horse-riding rodeo show, there was a Dolly Parton owned and branded place, Southern Gospel singfests, Uncle Cracker-style comedy revues...and those were just the ones I could remember. To make it worse, when I went by them they were PACKED! Nothing like the smell of horse manure to go with your steak and potato! Ummm, that's good eatin'!

Apparently, this is what people in our country want. They want to get away and do all the stuff they usually do at home, only they want to do it several hours away from home...except for the shows...unless, of course, you happen to hail from Branson, MO.

From the mouths of babes

2007-06-02T09:31:00.000-04:00

From a very special almost seven year-old little girl:
"Pandas are my favorite animals because they are so cute. Until you pick up the babies and they scratch your eyes out."

Jack Handy has nothing on her.

I'm no sissy boy

2007-04-19T19:22:00.000-04:00

A concerned reader in Virgina writes:

You've got to MAN UP! I put three of your latest blog postings through the gender genie, and it decided that your writing was decidedly feminine. 2 out of 3 times!

The mystical gender genie is an online algorithm that determines, based on the words and number of times each is used, whether the writer is male or female. Who says science can't answer all of our questions?

I looked, and by Jove, it seems that some of my posts do shake out that way. Who'd have thought it was possible? I thought by virtue of the fact that I can grow more facial hair than the concerned reader would count for something.

Not that it's a total wash. I kicked off my blogging career with this uber-masculine post (2715 "male" words versus 1346 "female"). Want to write in a more masculine way? Use the following words often when writing:

the
is
a
at
these
it
to
what

This is the key. To write what the genie is looking at. Many have said as much. It is above its expectations to use words that are longer than one syllable (like "Ugh").

What goes around comes around is what I say. It is important to check other sites as well. I Can Ascertain Some Sites are as feminine as others.

(This post is 758 masculine to 171 feminine by the way.)

Blogging is kind of like McDonald's in a way

2007-04-16T22:13:00.000-04:00

Greetings discerning readers! Please excuse the hiatus, but there have been some things going on in my life as of late. The main thing is that I moved to a different house. Notice that I didn’t say a “new” house. That would be untrue. This is a 1976, brick ranch. Almost 2100 square feet, four bedrooms, two and a half baths, yada, yada, yada. Of course, I didn’t actually sell the old homestead. We are renting it to a nice family that has the goal of purchasing it from me at some point in the near future. This means that since you last had a fresh post (some dreadful piece concerning paint color about which I can only say I’m sorry), I have a new title: Landlord.

I don’t actually like the term “landlord”, because it gives me visions of this guy. No, I prefer “land baron”. It makes me feel more early twentieth century, more roaring twenties, more Great Gatsby. It also helps me remember that I own not one, but two pieces of Charlotte, NC, and I kind of like that. If the lots were together, I could put a large wall and a moat around them and gaze across the street at my neighbors, whom I would pretend were the serfs in this little make-believe fiefdom. I could do all that, but I won’t, because I like the location of this house much more—although the Lowe’s that’s closest to me here (and trust me, I’ve been there a time or two) is inferior to the one that was a mile away from the former location. You can’t have it all, I guess.

About the house. It was built in the bicentennial year of this great nation, and that means that it has some quirks anyway—like the pink toilet in the half bath. It also hasn’t been lived in for 2 to 4 years, depending on which neighbor you ask. When you live in a house that hasn't been lived in, you find out stuff is broken as you use it. Thus, I have been in the crawl space a time or two, reconnecting drainage pipes and the like. We've shelled out a few hundred bucks for a plumber, even when we pay only $55 a visit because of the home warranty that came with the house.

We bought it from a nice couple that owned it for almost a year with hopes of making big money with a flip. But it flopped. Don’t get me wrong, I love the house, and they did some good things—new roof, new furnace, and new AC. They also laid some laminate flooring throughout most of the house. Incorrectly. And let this be a lesson to all of you, and help keep people like me gainfully employed:

READ THE MANUAL!

As if this weren’t enough excitement, four days after leaving our former residence, and two days before the new family moved in, some of the kids from the neighborhood decided to break into the shed at that property. The police came and caught some of the kids. Of course, they caught the third-graders that were involved. And the third-graders weren’t about to out their older culprits. Their mother couldn’t get them to talk either. Instead of having them booked, or asking their mother who couldn’t afford to pay for the damage to pay for the damage, I made the agreement with her to have her kids help me repair the damage. We’ll do the handyman thing together and bond and stuff. Perhaps by helping to repair the damage they will learn something about fixing things and also what a pain it is to fix something that you helped destroy. Hopefully it will be a positive experience.

Not to highlight too much drama, but about a week ago my dog was hit by a car. Broke her leg, it did. $1600 for orthopedic surgery. ORTHOPEDIC SURGERY FOR A DOG! I have lost my mind. The needle is only $75, but I had a dog that went that route a few years back, and I didn’t want to do that again (before you flame me, that dog wouldn’t have been out of the woods with one $1600 surgery. We would have been back again and again. Besides, it’s a DOG). She went today to have the staples removed. The doctors are all impressed with her progress (they should, I forked over the money). They did the surgery at half price, which was very nice, but the poor dog is confined to her crate for five more weeks. I tell her she’s lucky to be alive. She just gives me the evil eye.

I preached my first sermon ever a few weeks before the move. I preached part two of a series we were doing at church called Raising G-Rated Kids in an R-Rated World. My topic was “Children Need Memories”. I thought it went well. No one fell asleep. Copies available upon request.

In case you don’t follow football, my beloved Redskins made big news on Yahoo! a few weeks back by signing a punter. Yes, a punter. Are there no free agents they could scoop up? How about a receiver? How about anything? What, they don’t have any more holes to fill? I suppose that when your team is that bad, a kicker will really get your fans fired up, seeing as he’s on the field longer than their offense.

In blog news:
I have added my brother’s blog to my links. Now you can get the perspective of someone in Iraq (in case you don’t know anyone that has been or is there now). This way, you all have a face to look at when you hear our imperial congress tell us that our troops “don’t need no steenking funds”. Oops. Sorry for the politics. I promised myself that I wouldn’t talk politics on this blog, and so far I’ve been pretty good about it. But, when I heard that congress wants to kill our men and women in uniform for political points back home, it about made me sick. Not that I think that W made the wisest of moves with this whole mess, but once our people are there, I think they should be equipped to protect themselves and do their jobs. ‘Nuff said.

Well, that's all I've got. Blogging is a lot like McDonald’s in a way…you are never really satisfied with the food, but you know you’ll be back. If there’s still anyone out there reading, I will try to stay up with this a bit better. I know, this post isn’t very good, and I rambled a bit. I shall strive to do better next time.

Paint colors and the Y chromosome

2007-02-27T18:21:00.000-05:00

Like most men, I have a limited grasp of colors. Blue, red, yellow, green, purple, and orange have always done just fine for me. Throw in black, white, gray, and brown, and I am a virtual expert on all the many nuances of color. With a little more qualifying, I have increased my palette to at least triple as I can now identify "light blue" and "dark green". I can go further by mixing two shades, such as "red-orange" and "yellow-green". Thank you Crayola.

However, being a married man, I have learned that these adjectives are inadequate. For example, the walls in my room are not "green", simpleton that I am. No, they are "sage". This problem promises to manifest itself even more acutely as we move into our new home in about three weeks and I am forced to make the dreaded trip to Lowes so that we can purchase paint the hues of which are named "desert tumbleweed" and "creamy mocha". Personally, I like the already "tan" walls, although women would probably call this color "taupe" or "beige".

What occurred to me today, though, is that calling a "sage" wall "green" is not incorrect. This is true because the color of a thing is never called that thing's name. For example, while my wife might be duped into believing that our green walls are sage, she can only say that because she knows the color of the herb. But, if I held up a bunch of sage at the store and asked my beloved to identify the color, she would be forced to admit they were green. Consider these other examples:

Lemon
Tangerine
Ruby
Eggplant

Of course, much like the English language, this rule is broken a couple of times. The most obvious is "orange". I suppose they didn't have a better word to describe it when it became necessary to assign its name. Some of you doubters out there are probably thinking "violet". I'll give it to you, but I will always prefer "purple".

I don't know if we need our own civil rights group to fight for our right to call "ruby" "red" or "lemon" "yellow", but I would venture a guess that men are the only ones so afflicted by the inability to "properly" identify colors. At least most men can tell the difference between "pliers" and "wrenches".

Coming out of the closet

2007-02-06T22:26:00.000-05:00

The other night, I was driving my friend's truck while moving some furniture. He has on his sun visor one of those CD holders that allows you to store up to 10 discs for easy access while driving. Because of how far in the CDs sit in the holder, you can't see the labels very well, if at all. And yet, a cursory glance revealed enough of a label to allow me to accurately assess what one of the compact discs was: ABBA Gold.

ABBA is perhaps one of the schmaltziest pop groups that has ever been. Despite this sad but true fact, owning one of their CDs is not considered the least bit strange. Not only that, but for some unexplained reasons I hear that many women request "Dancing Queen" for their wedding receptions--a dubious distinction indeed. But this is no wedding reception; it's my buddy's Ford Ranger! Has he no shame?!?

Predictably, when confronted about his CD selection, he blamed it on his wife. "She took my truck to the mountains," claimed he. Since he knew how lame an excuse that was, he called her over from across the room.

"Who's ABBA CD is that in my truck?"

"It's mine. I took his truck to the mountains," was the reply. Either they had gotten their stories straight for just such a time as this, or they were telling the truth. She continued, "Did you look inside the CD player?"

My friend confessed before his wife told. "Hanson!"

I could only shudder.

I guess any guy that will admit to listening to Hanson in his very manly, beat up, Ford pickup truck has no reason to lie about an ABBA CD. He clearly has more to lose by admitting that he likes Hanson. Besides, who doesn't love "Waterloo"?

My friend's boldness confirmed in my mind something that I have kept hidden for a long time.

All of us like sappy music in one form or another. Burt Bacharach has made a career creating the stuff. We all empathized with David Spade and Chris Farley as, with tear-streaked faces, they sang along with the Carpenter's "Superstar" in the movie Tommy Boy. And who doesn't love singing along with Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline" when the DJ spins it at that company party or wedding? I believe that secretly even the most manly of men loves a good, sappy pop song. Something they never would have admitted to in high school. Something that would have brought shame in college. Something even their wives would like in adulthood. And so, with this post, I will open and step out of the closet for the world to read.

I like John Denver.

There. I said it.

To take it further, I don't even just love his old stuff, either. I even like the stuff he did in the mid to late 80s. I have liked his music my whole life, and I was seriously bummed when he died.

It must be a generational thing. My mom and dad loved his music, and now so do I. This must be a much more common thing than I realized at first. Obviously, if my parents listened to music that I grew to love, certainly there must be all kinds of people out there that have the same experience.

Then I remembered an article I read a long time ago about a bunch of tribute albums where some of these artists' songs were covered by alternative bands through the 90s. I guess I should have paid closer attention. Consider the following:

As of this posting, there are no Hanson tribute albums out there. But, to my friend that inspired this post, don't give up hope. Maybe someday some indie rockers will think back to their roots, to their parents' CD collections, and to the great influence of "MMMBop" on their sound. In the meantime, I will travel down those country roads with John Denver, one of the great under-appreciated singer/songwriters of all time.

What, me neo-orthodox?

2007-01-31T23:29:00.000-05:00

Karl Barth must have been a great guy to agree with me...

Thanks for the link, fr'nklin!

You scored as Neo orthodox. You are neo-orthodox. You reject the human-centredness and scepticism of liberal theology, but neither do you go to the other extreme and make the Bible the central issue for faith. You believe that Christ is God's most important revelation to humanity, and the Trinity is hugely important in your theology. The Bible is also important because it points us to the revelation of Christ. You are influenced by Karl Barth and P T Forsyth.

Neo orthodox

64%

Emergent/Postmodern

61%

Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan

57%

Fundamentalist

50%

Charismatic/Pentecostal

43%

Reformed Evangelical

43%

Roman Catholic

43%

Classical Liberal

32%

Modern Liberal

7%

What's your theological worldview?
created with QuizFarm.com

Let it snow! Let it snow! Watch them mock?

2007-01-31T21:09:00.000-05:00

Growing up in the Greater Washington, DC Metropolitan Area, Northern Virginia division, I have seen my share of snow. Having lived in the frozen tundra of Southeastern Wisconsin, the Halfway-Between-Milwaukee-And-Chicago division for 9 months (the 9 months that took us right through the snowy season of late October through February), I have seen LOTS of snow.

But, I no longer live in the frozen tundra. I don't even live in DC. I live in Charlotte, North Carolina. And nothing says Charlotte, NC quite like a snow storm.

Okay, nothing says Charlotte, NC like "NASCAR", but work with me a little.

Tomorrow, we are scheduled to get a whopping 1-2 inches of snow. That doesn't aggravate me. I like snow. I thought Wisconsin was awesome in the winter. What it means is that Charlotte will get national attention. There is nothing that the city of Charlotte loves quite like national attention. National attention is better still if it involves the forthcoming NASCAR Hall of Fame. But this kind of national attention is not welcome.

I saw this national attention while sipping some exceedingly bad coffee in the lobby of the Comfort Inn in San Jose, CA two weeks ago tomorrow. CNN was on the tube, and they were broadcasting live from Charlotte. The reporter was standing beside what looked like an overpass or road overlooking 485 and talking about the big, bad ice storm that had occurred in the night. He was scratching a patch off of a railing and saying something along the lines of, "all it took was this much ice to close the city down! " No wonder they hate Yankees in the South. All that was missing was for the reporter to talk about how superior they are in New York, Philadelphia, or, heaven help us, Boston.

Yes, that's right. Tomorrow Charlotte and all points in the south that are affected by the oncoming storm will be mocked on the national news: "Stupid southerners can't drive in the stuff." "What a bunch of wimps." Yada, yada, yada.

I gained my first hatred of this attitude growing up in Northern VA, where every time it would snow, the reporters would head out to either Dulles or National (back before it was Reagan National) Airport to interview...you got it, the same goofballs that will be mocking us tomorrow.

Nothing is as annoying as someone with a Boston accent talking about how people "down he-ah" can't operate their "cahs" in the snow, and how New England is so much better because their kids go to school when there's a foot of snow on the ground and they even walk uphill both ways in it and anyone that can’t take it is obviously backwards and they’re so superior that they are going to move to the south as soon as possible to show these backwoods hicks just how to do things.

And so, they move south—trust me, Charlotte is a lot like DC: most people are from somewhere else, and usually from the north—and they then discover that it isn’t the people that can’t handle it. It’s an infrastructure thing. This will be the first snow in three years. You think an area that gets that much snow has hundreds of snow plows at its beck and call?

Now, Wisconsin had the tools. I lived in a town of 3000ish people (literally a village), and I swear they had 5-10 snow plows. Not only that, but before the first flake hit the ground, they were a-plowin’. And not just the main roads, either. No sir, this was a first rate snow removal machine, I’ll tell you what! But, you wanna know a secret? Lean closer and I’ll whisper it to you:

Those folks can’t get their tires to work on snow and ice any better than those of us that reside in the South.

See, one day, I was at work, and the snow came. And in Wisconsin, there is no such thing as a wimpy snow. In an hour they could have an inch or two. But I digress…we were house-sitting for my wife’s cousin, and I was even using their car. Then I started getting the comments: “If you need to get home, go ahead.” “Brad, you drive through snow before?” Even my lovely wife called with, “Be careful, please. The snow here is different than Virginia.” Grrrr.

Deciding it would be wise to hit the main roads, I headed straight to I-94. And guess what I saw? Cars in ditches. Cars spun the wrong way beside the road. Cars abandoned by drivers driven to madness by the mysterious white flakes falling from the sky. And what did the license plates say? Virginia? North Carolina, the "First in Flight"? Florida, the "Sunshine State"?

Nope. Wisconsin. But even more satisfying to me, Illinois, the "Land of Lincoln". Lots of Land of Lincoln-branded plates. Yes, the southerner in me gave a wry grin as I successfully made my way to a hot meal in a warm, cozy home.

So, before you start laughing at the smug CNN reporters tomorrow because "the people there just can't handle it," consider this post as a caution...pride cometh before the fall. And next time I'm in Boston, I won't brag about the fact that the roads we have above ground in Charlotte have yet to crush a single "cah".

When pop culture goes wild

2007-01-30T20:08:00.000-05:00

I am a fan of U2. I like their music. Like all good music, theirs touches something intangible inside me. I'll even go so far as to say that I feel a certain spiritual connection to God because of some of the lyrics that have been penned by Bono, Edge, Adam, and Larry.

Now I'll up the ante by saying that, unlike other pop stars with a cause, Bono doesn't drive me crazy with his zeal to save Africa. I'll even go so far as to say that I'm more of a bleeding heart than ever due to his appeals to care for the poor in a faraway land. I might go further by saying that I admire him. He has used the message of Jesus to point out to the Church where we have failed those that Christ came to save and serve.

But, I am grounded enough to know that there is a time and a place to listen and dance to the music of U2, and church isn't it. I know, I know, I'm old fashioned, but I think that the "U2-charist" being celebrated by Episcopalians in the US and Anglicans in Canada and the UK is... well, inappropriate. I would be more harsh, but I think this word sums it up.

When I first heard of this about a year or so ago, it was being used as a way to "reach out" to non-Christians and others that are disaffected by the church. The problem is that efforts by men to make the Gospel "hip" will always fail. The Gospel isn't hip--it's offensive. It steps on toes. It enters those places in our lives that we would rather leave alone and moves stuff around. Sometimes it asks things of us that we find hard to do. As Jesus told Peter, it will "dress you and lead you where you do not want to go."

This service points in a different direction: toward the "if it's relevant to you, then it's relevant" aesthetic that is slowly but surely beginning to poison the minds even of the redeemed. It's also ironic: the Anglican Church started championing this trend partly to raise awareness of the plight of the poor in Africa--all while this same denomination is currently in danger of fracturing its fellowship with its adherents in Africa due to its toleration in the US over the ordination of at least one openly homosexual bishop.

Don't get me wrong, I have read statements by Bono that indicate a genuine faith in Christ, and I think it's a good thing that churches in the West (the USA in particular) become more aware of the poor among us in this world. I applaud churches such as Willow Creek in Chicago that even gave Bono a forum during their leadership conference last year to talk about this important issue. But that isn't worship. Worship is separate--communion in particular. We don't come to the table to celebrate our love of U2, but to celebrate our Savior and His sacrifice for our sins. As much as I love U2, they and their music pales in comparison to Christ. I think Bono would agree.

Sly as a fox and strong as a "bertsch"

2007-01-24T19:11:00.000-05:00

He's not a tree, but a man. But no mere man. Nay, more beast than man. Regardless of what he is or what he is not, he demanded more consistency in my posting, and more posting is what he will get. It's just the way he rolls.

Venice, the leaning tower of Pisa, and Charlotte's light rail

2007-01-06T11:53:00.000-05:00

My pastor's wife, Beth, just called and we had the ensuing conversation:

Brad: "Hello?"
Beth: "Brad! I'm so glad you answered!"
Brad: "Well, I'm glad you called!"
(Laughter because of my great wit and outstanding timing)
Beth: "I have a question for you..."
Brad: "Okay..."
Beth: "Why did they build Venice on water?"

I'm praying for her...

Fundy educations

2006-12-16T08:53:00.000-05:00

"This was a world far removed from the mild Methodist devotion of my infant baptism, but I conformed to it quickly." This quote couldn't be more true for me, but they are the words of Christine Rosen, author of My Fundamentalist Education: A Memoir of a Divine Girlhood.

The difference between Rosen's indoctrination and mine is that I embraced fundamentalism at age 18 when I went away to college rather than when I was in Kindergarten. The reason I chose a fundamentalist college was because I wanted to know God and to escape the demons that I knew from life to that point, and I figured that going someplace with strict rules and lifestyle standards would beat the Hell right out of me. Of course, I learned that while fundies place a lot of emphasis on outward appearance, they also have a mostly accurate view of scripture. And it's from within scripture that I learned that only faith in Christ would draw me closer to God, not rules.

Perhaps being an adult when I embraced fundamentalism made it easier to turn away from it while still in college (philosophically anyway). In any case, I learned that fundamentalism isn't God, and I never left my faith in Christ. Unfortunately, many people equate the two and wind up throwing the whole kit and kaboodle on the same trash heap.

I recognized many of the situations Rosen writes about. Certain aspects of fundamentalism are the same regardless of age:

The Bible is to be taken literally in every instance, except when it mentions wine, in which case it really means "grape juice."
Your outward appearance can and will either draw others to Christ, or cause them to turn away, so don't cuss, smoke, drink, or chew, or go with girls that do.
No dancing. Ever. This is a non-negotiable. I learned that this was because it would lead to "other things" (wink, wink, nudge, nudge). I figured that logic would dictate that that dancing was perfectly acceptable after marriage, since the "other things" were not only acceptable, but encouraged. I was wrong. Dancing is still bad.

There are others, but those are my favorites. The aspects of the fundy culture I had never experienced myself I knew of vicariously thanks to my lovely fundy-trained wife, who grew up going to fundy schools all the way through high school. More than once while reading this book I burst out in laughter saying, "did you guys do that?" Her hollow stare back said it all.

That's not to say that I dislike fundamentalists. I am related to fundamentalists that I love. I was taught the Bible and other subjects by fundamentalists. I learned what it was to grow in Christ because of that teaching.

What I reject, and what I never fully embraced, is the "circle the wagons" mentality that permeates the fundy culture. I always felt that insulating themselves (indeed, often throwing up barriers) from the rest of the world keeps people at arm's length and usually pushes people away from the very gospel they are trying to share. I offended friends and relatives by dispensing my moral rectitude upon all that would listen in an effort to see them come to Christ. Some of those relationships are still broken.

Rosen's portrait is free from animosity and often humorous. She supplies a "where are they now" chapter at the end where she offers fond updates on her friends and teachers that are featured in the book, and tells a little of her now fully secular life. Still, she makes it clear that she respects and even appreciates the education she received as a child and credits fundamentalism with her forays into intellectual pursuits later in life. It makes me sad, however, whenever I hear or read about someone turning from their faith; whether because they just decide they don't believe it, or because of the extremes they have experienced at the hands of well-intentioned people.

Christmas CD rotation

2006-11-24T09:44:00.000-05:00

The leftover turkey and stuffing have been packed away in the refrigerator after another excellent Thanksgiving, which marks the beginning of the second most wonderful time of the year: Christmas. (Yes, I think Thanksgiving is better. But that's for another post.)

In the spirit of the season, I present to you, the discerning reader, a list of my favorite Christmas albums:

Various Artists: Happy Christmas, Volume 2
This is a surprise addition to this year's Christmas rotation. I purchased it last year at the 90% off sale at a Family Christian Store that was moving to a new location. I think I paid 47 cents, but it was a well spent 47 cents. The cover art evokes that of Larry Norman's seminal "Upon this Rock", only it features Santa Claus flying through the air instead of Mr. Norman. The standout track from this collection is Sixpence None the Richer's version of "You're A Mean One Mr. Grintch" followed closely by All Star United's "I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday". I could do without the opening MxPx track, since it sounds just like everything else they have ever recorded, but most of the rest of the album is worth a listen. I don't recommend paying full price, but for 47 cents this diamond in the rough is good enough for anyone's Christmas rotation.

Bing Crosby: White Christmas
I purchased this album during one of my many and frequent memberships in the Columbia House Record and Tape Club. I'm not into the crooners like my brother, Ensign Genius, but this album was almost enough to convert me. What is most impressive about this collection is the songs that are featured. Besides the Bing Crosby standard "White Christmas", consider "Faith of Our Fathers"--a song rarely heard in church anymore, much less on a Christmas album. And this was a pop record! Nowadays even Christian singers seem more comfortable singing the "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" styled songs. Unfortunately, my copy was stolen along with the rest of the contents of a bag that my wife left lying on a sidewalk outside our home in Springfield, OH. Considering we lived in a crack neighborhood, this is understandable, but it's funny to think of the thieves getting that excited about finding this inside.

Various Artists: Christmas
This takes me back to my freshman year of college. The gentlemen with whom I roomed in Dorm 10 at Liberty University and I strung up Christmas lights and enjoyed canned egg nog as we played this album over and over. Notable mostly because of Steve Taylor's mariachi-inspired "Winter Wonderland", this album can be found in the discount bins of Christmas music at most Christian retailers.

Nat King Cole: The Christmas Song
My dad passed his love of music on to me. One of the best things about his record collection was the fact that it was so eclectic. The Christmas music he owned, though, was fairly selective. This is one of those gems. I can't think of a guy with a smoother voice than the late Mr. Cole, and the orchestration arranged by Ralph Carmichael is perfect. The music dances, capturing the grandeur and joy that Christmas represents. From the opening strains of the familiar "Christmas Song" (Chestnuts roasting on an open fire...) to the beautiful "Silent Night", this album will remain in the canon of classic Christmas albums for a very long time to come.

John Denver and the Muppets: A Christmas Together
I hear you tittering out there, but this is my favorite Christmas album of all time. No joke. Like many people my age, I grew up in a home where John Denver was played constantly and my parents went to see his shows every year at Wolf Trap. As a result, anytime he was on TV we watched him. One year, he was in this Christmas special with the Muppets, and this album is the music from the special. I remember the Christmas morning sometime after that (I think it was 1981 or 1982) when my mom opened this record and she played it all day. And then, every year after that, we played it all season. It was the tree-decorating music. About 7 or 8 years ago, my mom purchased a copy of the CD for me and each of my siblings, and it's now a staple in my house for the season. Yes, it's corny and childish, but it also contains some of the most beautiful original Christmas compositions ever written by a contemporary artist. And besides, isn't Christmas supposed to be a little childish and fun?

The reason for the season?

2006-11-15T21:36:00.000-05:00

If this story offends you because you feel that the Marine Corps or Toys for Tots is somehow discriminating against Christians, you aren’t looking at it properly. Shouldn’t we rather be asking whether it’s appropriate to market an action figure modeled after the Holy Son of God?

Then again, it does have that cool kung fu action grip…

The power of black

2006-11-12T21:44:00.000-05:00

I thought the video for Johnny Cash's "God's Gonna Cut You Down" could be interesting with the all-star cast of Kris Kristofferson, Bono, Dennis Hopper, Chris Rock, Kanye West, Iggy Pop, and others, but I had no idea how powerful it could be. See for yourself...

One more sign of the apocalypse

2006-11-10T21:38:00.000-05:00

My brother-in-law is a fan of Billy Idol. Yes, that Billy Idol. When I first met him about 3 years ago, I thought this was a little peculiar. No, not because I didn't enjoy some Idol's songs--I mean, what's not to love about such toe-tappers as "White Wedding", "Rebel Yell", "Cradle of Love", and my personal favorite, "Dancing with Myself". What makes that last one so great is the fade out, where Billy starts chanting "Sweat! Sweat! Sweat!" Ah yes, what a wordsmith.

So, like I was saying, my brother-in-law is a big fan. By big fan, I don't mean that he will pause when scanning the radio for a good tune and finds out it's 80s weekend on the top 40 station. By fan I mean that he owns all the albums. I don't think he has any posters or tour shirts, but I wouldn't put it past him. I only ever knew one other person ever that was that big a fan, and that person was a girl...back in 10th grade. So, now I know two.

So, I'm chatting with my sister, who found my brother-in-law irresistable despite this strange obsession with Mr. Idol. Don't get me wrong, I think she picked herself a mighty swell guy. He's a good American and one that I quite like having as part of our family. Anyway, she and I were talking about my kids, and I told her how after recently scanning the radio for a good tune, I found that the 80s station was playing a Billy Idol song. As a bonus, it just happened to be my favorite Idol tune, "Dancing with Myself". I told my beloved sister how much I enjoyed laughing with my kids about the way he started the "Sweat" portion of the song. Good times.

Thanks to the miracle of modern technology, we were both able to surf the Internet as we talked, and we both ended up on Idol's site. And what is Mr. Idol up to these days? Why, doing what all former punk rockers do...recording a holiday album!

Yes, that's right kids, Billy Idol is now in his 50s and has mellowed a bit. He's at that age where he's ready to be the modern equivalent to Bing Crosby, Nat King Cole, and David Bowie...well, he only did that one thing with Bing, but we'll leave him on the list anyway.

Wanna judge for yourself? Ladies and gentlemen, I present you with White Christmas! If that's too much, start with Jingle Bell Rock. Be prepared to start dancing with yourself.

As shocking as it was to discover this latest album, these selections aren't all that bad. I might purchase a copy after all.

Amish vs. lunkheads, part 2

2006-10-10T21:05:00.000-04:00

Quick, what’s the first thing that comes to mind after reading the following paragraph?

A man breaks into your children’s school and shoots seven students, killing five. The man then takes his own life.

Now, what popped into your head? Anger? Revenge? Apparently, if you’re Amish, you think of forgiveness.

Did you do poorly with that last hypothetical situation? Don’t worry dear reader, here’s another chance. Remember, think of the first thing that pops into your head…and be honest:

There is an outpouring of support from all over the world. You receive large sums of money, gifts, and words of encouragement from people you’ve never met.

What came up this time? A gun? Disney World? Retirement?

How about setting up a fund for the murderer’s family? This article nearly brought me to tears. I wonder what the members of Westboro Baptist would have done with the money…

Will the real Christians please stand up?

2006-10-07T00:07:00.000-04:00

The recent murders of Amish schoolchildren in Lancaster County, PA is a disgusting example of evil in action. As this community grieves the loss of five young girls in a senseless murder, the world is watching. A CNN article relays the story of a grieving grandfather standing by the body of his granddaughter in a casket and telling the family, "We must not think evil of this man." I can't help but notice the disbelief and respectful murmurings of the press as they watch the reaction of the Amish. I am in awe myself, especially when reading quotes like the following from this article:

Rita Rhoads is a midwife who was present at the births of two of the girls who were killed. "If you have Jesus in your heart and he has forgiven you, then how can you not forgive other people," Rhoads says.

Wow. In 450 years of Anabaptist history, pacifism and forgiveness are still on display for the world to see—and the world is noticing.

Now for some contrast, consider the freaks over at Westboro Baptist Church (WBC). These are the “God Hates Fags” folks that seem to believe that they will effectively share the good news of the gospel by picketing people and screaming God’s judgment upon all that would dare disagree with the leader of this cult, the “Reverend” Fred Phelps.

The newest outrage being perpetrated by this “We Wish We Were Waco” crowd is the picketing of funerals of fallen US soldiers (the announcements of which listed on their disgusting Web site under the incongruous title “Love Crusades”). They claim that they do this because the soldiers are fighting for a country that tolerates fornication and homosexuality, and therefore their deaths are God’s judgment against our nation. Well, that was the newest outrage, but they really outdid themselves when they announced that they were going to picket the funerals of the innocent young girls that were gunned down in the schoolhouse in PA.

If we are to believe the members of WBC, God caused this to happen in order to punish Pennsylvania Governor Ed Rendell because of his “blasphemous sins against WBC." What sin did he commit against this church? He denounced their practice of protesting those funerals. Now, if you’re anything like me, your nose is wrinkled up and you’re saying, “Errr?”

(The church called off this particular “Love Crusade” after they used it to blackmail someone for airtime in order to spew their skewed version of Christianity. Radio personality Mike Gallagher relented for the sake of the victims and their families.)

Westboro’s site is a piece of work, full of vitriol targeted not only towards homosexuals, but also anyone that would dare speak out against WBC. (Sorry, I refuse to link to it. If you want to see it, use Google. If you are at work, I would advise against it. You have been warned.) Perhaps this post can get me added to their list.

I agree that the Bible calls homosexuality and fornication sins...as well as greed, idolatry, gossip, etc. But the way to confront sin is not with anger, name-calling, and controversy. WBC seems woefully ignorant of scripture on this one. Jesus is the Author and Perfecter of our faith, the One Who came and lived with and loved the unlovable so that we could then know God, and He confronted sin often…but always with love. Jesus walked in a sinful world, and yet was not tainted by it. He went to men and women that were full of sin, and from them He built His church.

So, I was processing all of this, considering the way Christ is presented by both groups: One group forgiving a vile man for murdering their children and another threatening to picket the funerals of the victims in some misguided attempt denounce homosexuality. (I still don’t understand the reasoning, but I consider that a good thing.) One group is offering the world a picture of Christ that accepts all that turn to him in repentance and humility, and another that presents their agenda in Christ’s name. Both groups seem to have at least an understanding about how Christ offers us new lives, and yet only one group has found a way of expressing that idea without looking like complete nut jobs—aliens in the world, for sure, but only because of the extreme love they are willing to show one so undeserving.

For anyone out there that is looking at Phelps and his angry band of loudmouths as an example of Christianity, I think you should consider the alternative. If you see anything there worth emulating, consider the One that makes it possible.

Sunday night fellowship

2006-08-27T21:40:00.000-04:00

I just returned home after visiting with the folks of The Journey Church, a start-up currently meeting in peoples' homes. The singing was amazing, Pastor Harold preached on servant-leadership, and Chris and Cindy supplied their beautiful home and plenty of goodies to eat. What a great group of people! We're looking forward to getting to know them better on Sunday nights.

Confessions of a recovering Baptist

2006-08-26T21:43:00.000-04:00

I just received my September 2006 issue of Christianity Today. I was drawn to flip through the magazine as soon as I saw it because of the very cool "Jonathan Edwards is My Homeboy" t-shirt featured so prominently on the cover. What caught my eye while flipping through was a little more surprising (and amusing):
"Two Degrees of Separation
GARBC distances itself from college after Southern Baptist endorsement."

Now, for my friends that don't have the same fundamental independent Baptist church background that I do, "GARBC" stands for the "General Association of Regular Baptist Churches". This group is officially an association of churches and organizations (colleges, mission agencies, and social service ministries) that are held in confederation by a commitment to a common doctrinal statement. They like to stress the fact that they are NOT a denomination, and besides the fact that they have a titular head (called the "national representitive") and a college of cardinals (the portentously-named "Council of Eighteen"), they aren't really. Each church retains its autonomy, and as long as they stick to every jot and tittle of the doctrinal statement, they get to retain their association. Pastors are ordained through local churches, and the member bodies can leave the association at any time and without fear of losing property because it's owned by the church rather than the association (power that many of my friends in the PCUSA would love to have about now).

The GARBC was formed in the 1930s in response to the modernism that was creeping into the American Baptist church. Because any churches that left the denomination were forced to give up their property, GARBers have tenaciously guarded two points of doctrine that most churches don't think as much about: Autonomy of the local church and Separation.

I've already explained the reasoning for the autonomy issue, and this makes sense. Where things get a bit kooky is when it comes to separation. Separation is a scriptural principle of disassociating oneself from people that profess to be believers, but that adhere to a willful disobedience to God (1 Cor. 5:11) or apostasy (2 John 9-11). Disobedience to God is also known as "sin". Sin is easily identified since it's called out in scripture by name: sexual immorality, drunkeness, idolatry, etc. By willful, it means that even if a person is confronted about their behavior, they refuse to change.

Apostasy is basically denying one of the main tenets of the Christian faith. The strange thing is what qualifies as a main tenet: for example, the GARBC has an almost cultlike allegiance to dispensational premillennialism and to them, it DOES qualify as one of the essentials of the faith (to many anyway). The GARBC church I attended was once faced with a situation where a certain GARBC-affiliated mission board was separating from a missionary that we supported because, while holding to the requisite dispy theology, he was teaching folks to be pastors that didn't hold to dispy theology. Did you catch that? Even though the missionary held to the proper theology, and even though he taught from that perspective, because some of his students at the seminary where he taught did not hold to that perspective, he was told to either give up his ministry or to lose the financial support of the mission board. Sound absurd? Of course! The worst part is that it didn't even rise to the proper standard of what separation is for. There was no apostasy involved, just a minor theological disagreement. If those students were denying the resurrection of Christ or his return, THAT would be apostasy. Disagreeing about a minor point? Not so much. This is an example of "second degree" separation. This means that you separate from someone who doesn't separate from someone. It sounds very Seinfeld, I know, but I wanted to give you, the discerning reader, an example. (For the sake of giving you closure, my church did the right thing and continued to support the missionary in question. We even went the extra mile by dropping our monthly support of the mission board's home office and sending that money to the missionary as well. It was one of our finest hours!)

Now for the example that I originally wanted to write about:
I graduated from Cedarville University in 1995. At that time the school was in fellowship with the GARBC (notice the similar doctrinal statement). Not everyone that attended Cedarville was GARBC, but the 'Ville has long been considered a fine institution to which good GARBC parents could feel good about sending their kids--until recently. Cedarville made the mistake of being noticed by the Southern Baptist Convention of Ohio, who commended Cedarville as a fine Baptist institution that was worthy of its Southern Baptist students. Now, read that again. Do you see what happened? Cedarville was the endorsee. They received the endorsement. Evil? You bet!

This action enraged many in the GARBC. Why? Because of the second-degree rule of separation! See, Southern Baptists are a strange group. They are Baptists (dunking once backwards is good), but they aren't GARBC Baptists (not being GARBC results in a 15 yard penalty AND a loss of down). The greater US society in general, and the "liberal media" in particular, regard the SBC as the most conservative, oppressive, restrictive, Brill Cream-wearing, Jerry Falwell-loving group around. If they had Pat Robertson in their ranks, they would be the Dr. Evil of denominations. But a devout GARBer knows the truth: the SBC is not conservative at all!

There are several different types of Southern Baptists, and many are pretty conservative. But, there are those that aren't as, umm, conservative. How can the two coexist in a single handy denomination? Well, they can coexist because, like the GARBC, the SBC also reveres the principle of autonomy of the local congregation. But, unlike the GARBC, the SBC doesn't place as high an emphasis on separation. So, they have a higher threshold of tolerance for folks with slight differences of opinion in some things. In GARBland, this makes the SBC "liberal" and worthy of being separated from. And, so it follows that since Cedarville received an endorsement from the SBC, they are guilty by association. The official explanation from John Greening, pope...err, national representative, follows (read the whole statement here):

...it is obvious the SBC is a work in progress. For example, the decision by the trustees of the SBC International Mission Board to no longer permit tongues to be practiced as a private prayer language by missionaries is a good step forward, though it did not win unanimous support and the sitting president of the mission has been grandfathered in though acknowledging that tongues has been a continuing practice of his for thirty years. The newly elected SBC president describes himself as a conservative inerrantist yet he has issued a call for more open dialogue on theological issues. A fifteen-foot statue of Billy Graham was unveiled two weeks ago at the SBC meeting in North Carolina. We praise the Lord for many who have come to faith in Christ through Billy Graham’s preaching. However there is no one in evangelical circles who has done more to blur the lines of distinction between Evangelicals and Catholics than Billy Graham. GARBC leaders have been outspoken critics of his cooperative form of evangelism for decades. There are significant differences between the GARBC and the SBC that cause me to not want to gradually get drawn into a relationship with the SBC through an agency. By maintaining our distinct Regular Baptist identity, we have the greatest ministry platform from which we are able to make a contribution for truth within the harvest field of this world.

In other words, "Tongues and dialogue and Graham, oh my!" Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain, brothers and sisters, the GARBC is a denomination (sorry, association) in decline. The most conservative among the churches pride themselves on being more pure than everyone else by separating out for lesser issues than these. Those that embrace a broader evangelical witness in the world are leaving because of narrow views like those displayed by Dr. Greening and company in the above statement.

The funniest quandry is the one the GARBC has made for Grace Baptist Church, its member church in Cedarville, OH. Pastor Craig Miller is quoted in the Christianity Today article as saying, "It is difficult for us to maintain membership in an organization that has broken its ties with the alma mater and employer of half the congregation." I think it's worse than that. If this principle of separation is followed to its logical conclusion, the GARBC would have to declare that any church that has members that are still affiliated with Cedarville as apostate too.

As an alum of Cedarville and former congregant of a good GARBC church, I wish to say to the GARBC a heartfelt and sincere, "See ya!" I intend to give more generously to my alma mater now that this association has been severed. Cedarville can only improve with the GARBC footprints brushed off of the welcome mat.