For What It's Worthless

2008-03-21T09:36:00.000-04:00

Good Friday Wine

The Agony

Philosophers have measured mountains,
Fathomed the depths of seas, of states, and kings,
Walked with a staff to heaven, and traced fountains:
But there are two vast, spacious things
The which to measure it doth more behoove:
Yet few there are that sound them: Sin and Love.

Who would know Sin, let him repair
Unto Mount Olivet; there shall he see
A man so wrung with pains that all his hair,
His skin, his garments bloody be.
Sin is that press and vice, that forceth pain
To hunt his cruel food through every vein.

Who knows not Love, let him assay
And taste that juice, which on the cross a pike
Did set again abroach; then let him say
If ever he did taste the like.
Love is that liquor sweet and most divine
Which my God feels as blood; but I, as wine.

George Herbert (1639)

2008-02-10T17:13:00.000-05:00

The First Cousin Council Field Trip

A special ForWhatIt'sWorthless recognition to the first CC member who can name the location of this outing. Double kudos for naming the occasion (One member appears to have bladder control issues).

2008-02-10T17:12:00.000-05:00

Happy 35 Nate! From the early morning drive to the hospital with your mom and dad to the freezing trek through Madison to celebrate your graduation to the enlightening video of lions eating their young, you've always kept life interesting! If we were closer to Madison, I'd love to stop by and hoist a a pint in your honor (in a strictly medicinal sort of way of course!).

2008-02-10T16:57:00.000-05:00

Happy 40th you crazy lovebirds! Living with y'all for two and a half years in Texas was one of the most formative parts of my life and left me with wonderful memories. Trips to Goodwill, shrimp in a jar, the Terrell drive-in, Blackjack Baptist Church, chicken-n-rice for Sunday dinner. Of course, you'd only been married less than four years, so it was also a learning experience in how the whole marriage-couple-relating-to-one-another thing works. Thanks for the great example to follow. And I'll never tell about the other things I learned. Cross my heart.

2008-02-05T22:21:00.000-05:00

Icebergs Threaten West Michigan

2007-11-27T12:35:00.001-05:00

Overheard . . .

"Yeah, there's this show called "The Office" you can download from iTunes. Is it still on TV?"

"He could have shot a button buck, but I guess you don't want to do that. It's like shooting your grandmother. You just don't want to do that."

2007-11-18T01:23:00.000-05:00

2007-11-18T01:22:00.000-05:00

2007-11-18T01:12:00.000-05:00

2007-11-18T01:08:00.000-05:00

(Thanks to Jesse for help with re-sizing the photos to fit Blogger.)

2007-10-31T12:42:00.001-04:00

The Love Cruise

I have been negligent in not sharing photos from the wonderful evening with family and friends aboad the Holland Princess on July 19th. For those who made it, thanks for sharing this special evening with us! And for those who wanted to be there and couldn't make it, here's the first installment of "The Love Cruise."

We had delicious dinner and then sat back to hear lovely wishes of congratulations and best wishes from the guests, led by Pam's son Derek. Mixed in were a few jokes directed at Dman, by unnamed persons who will be pictured later.

2007-10-01T15:09:00.000-04:00

I couldn't help borrowing this from: http://branthansen.typepad.com/letters_from_kamp_krusty/2007/09/conscientious-o.html

And for more toast entertainment, check out this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BILAFuSi-i0

2007-05-29T10:09:00.000-04:00

The Official Date

Here's what you've all been waiting for (after a few tentative attempts at nailing down a date for our ceremony). It's Thursday, July 19, at 7:00 p.m. in the beautiful Dutch principality of Holland, Michigan. Plans are for a dinner, followed by a sunset (or close to it) ceremony.

All of our beloved nieces and nephews are invited to join us for this special occasion, as well as other CC family blog lurkers. Invitations forthcoming.

2007-05-01T13:05:00.000-04:00

In-ad-vertency

The Boston Globe
Why 'nappy' is offensive
By Zine Magubane April 12, 2007

"WHEN DON IMUS called the Rutgers University basketball team a bunch of "nappy-headed ho ' s" he brought to the fore the degree to which black women's hair has served as a visible marker of our political and social marginalization."

Immediately below article:

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2007-04-19T09:50:00.000-04:00

It's Official, Folks!

My love said "yes!" as you might guess from this picture.

The date is Saturday, July 21. We've decided to have a private ceremony but invite everyone to meet Pam (and as many of her family that can come) at the Hillman get-together on or about July 4.

2007-03-26T19:25:00.000-04:00

Lee Side of the Mountain

Wandering through Colorado Springs on the lee side of the Rockies, I'm lefting wondering if I've seen purely indigenous habitants or simply universal variants:

1. At the Colorado City Goodwill Store (which stores, by the way, always imbue me with a renewed sense of pride in being able to have other people dispose of my junk), I stood in line behind a young, slightly counter-culture couple (very early twenties), both of whom were buying boots, his a pair of well worn cowboy boots that he immediately donned upon exiting the building. What caught my attention was the duct tape wallet protruding from his back pocket. Clever that, I thought. Looks like he made it from duct tape. Then I observed that they were driving an ancient Toyota hatchback whose tailgate had been generously shoved forward several inches by a rear-end collision. Holding the tailgate to the chassis and the glass to the tailgate was a more than generous supply of, yes, of course--duct tape. Clever that.

2. The most gorgeous, lustrous, thick, wild, celtic-esque mane of blonde streaked with pottery red that I have ever seen caught my eye several yards down the block. Long, down to mid-back and encasing the head in a wavy helmet of hirsute wonder. Walking toward the seated person from behind, I wondered how any woman could possibly maintain this riot of a hairdo without a fulltime assistant and a bucket truck--until the gentleman stood up and turned towards me, and I realized that I was perhaps looking at the last surviving, honest-to-Haight Ashbury hippie that never made it over the mountain for the '67 summer of love. And I wonder if he's spent the last forty years thinking of what might have been.

3. A U-haul moment: a VW bug with a class II trailer hitch (that's for 3500 lbs. of gross weight with a 350 lbs. tongue weight). He could haul (or try to haul) ten sumo wrestlers up the mountain, one of whom was standing on the rear bumper. Whatever he's towing, I just want to be way ahead of him or way behind him going down the mountain.

4. Friendly gnosticism shared freely via bumper sticker: "We are not physical beings having a spiritual experince. We are spiritual beings have a physical experience."

5. Mr. bike-riding, skin-cancered, bathing-challenged, spray-bottle-toting, $90-a-month-disability-check homeless man who offered to clean my windshield for a dollar, and asked with such resigned politeness and amiability that I couldn't say no. He remembered the name of a band from Detroit when I mentioned I was from Michigan. I had never heard of them, and he remarked wistfully, "You don't hear much about them anymore, I don't know why." He took his time and did the job right, accepted some money, and thanked me most sincerely, looking back with a smile when I said, "You take care of yourself."

2007-03-25T14:53:00.000-04:00

Rocky Mountian Hi

Sitting in the eastern shadow of Pike's Peak today, blue-sky, puffy-cloud Colorado mountains' majesty surrounding me. Just wondering. . . .

Do you have to be evangelical to eat at Panera Bread on Sundays for lunch? Seems like most of the crowd is. And they're not much into laptops.

Had a wonderful evening interlude with a blonde Belgium on Saturday. Smooth, silky, easy on the eyes and easy to like. In fact, easy to want to know better. Doug, you are so right in so many ways. Jesse, I have come to the West and been converted.

If I go down to Old Colorado City, can I avoid the the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory? Why is the flesh always willing but the spirit weak?

Towering over me to the north is Ft. Dobson, the faux Colonial brick fortress compound of Focus on the Family, not to be confused with Focus on Republicans. I read once that it is a major area tourist attraction. Just wondering: will Dobson's demise elicit a "final resting place" furor similar to that engulfing poor Billy Graham? If you've not heard of Franklin's plan for a gauche Disneyesque burial site, visit http://www.religionnewsblog.com/16819/billy-grahams-sons-in-feud-over-parents-burial-site. The barn pictured above begins the visit to the memorial site with a talking cow. Really.

Perception-reality collison? In Blue Like Jazz, author Donald Miller wrote: “At the end of each month I would start biting my nails, wondering what account owed me money or whether or not I would pick up any writing assignments. There’s not a lot of work in the Christian market if you won’t write self-righteous, conservative propaganda. I write new-realism essays. I am not a commodity.” Of course not. That's why his Thomas Nelson bestseller now has more than 775,000 copies in print, and he is the "not angry, just ironical" young man of religious literature.

My collorary to Acton's Law: Being a commodity tends to corrupt and being a very popular commodity corrupts completely. Good luck, Don, but I wonder if the pendulum of self-righteousness doesn't swing both ways. You've made it this far--so far, so good.

OK, the natives are showing up now. Time to go look at the mountains.

2007-03-06T21:25:00.000-05:00

From All Under and Over

Sailor Man surfaced in Honolulu long enough for the boat to dump the Seal Team mini-sub shelter on its deck and go back to being a "real submarine." Why? Because there are only, like, two of these things in the whole Navy and another sub needs to "borrow" it. Either that or AJ traded it for several cases of beer and nacho chips. This week they go back to sea for three weeks, under water like a "real submarine." Wait--isn't that what "submarines" do, really?

A new slogan for Brit Land--"England, a Robin Hood theme park every day!" Really, it's a little intimidating, visiting places where they qualify their statements by saying, "Of course, this part of the building only dates from the early 1400s." Granted, it's not Egypt, where the pyramids were already ancient a thousand years before that. But still fairly cool.

Saturday there's a travel show at our house--come over if you'd like to see the 262 digital shots we took. Or say to yourself, "Thank God we don't live close enough to go!"

And, for the mildly-to-seriously interested, Dman is now, by mutual agreement, one-half of a formal couple. She is a fan of Riesling and "The Office," which, I believe, are a good combination. Hopefully, fans of "Hope for Living" will not be crushed by the news that Depressed Man has retired from show biz.

2007-03-01T15:34:00.000-05:00

Merry Olde England

J$ and I are on the hunt for the elusive roots of the Jolli, Jolly, Joyliff, Jolliffe, or Jolliff family roots, no matter how its spelled.

Today we drove from the midlands to the Welsh border to visit Hay-On-Wye, a border town fought over by the Welsh and English for centuries until an enterprising resident turned it into the used book capital of the world--over 30 book shoppes along with antique and craft shoppes. Then a four-hour drive back across the midlands, highlighted by a wrong turn that took us up over the highest mountain in sight where we saw a working rock quarry and a highland commons where sheep had free-range of the road.

Tonight we are in Leek, the hotbed of Jolliff history. Tomorrow the vicar is letting us into the tower of St. Edward Anglican church to track down a plaque from the 1600s.

As for the driving, Densmark leads J$ in curbs struck by the front left tire and the number of times the wipers were engaged rather than the turn signals (they're reversed for right-hand drive). But we've both managed to stay on the left. We've even decided to vote Labor in '08.

2007-02-16T21:20:00.000-05:00

The Helpful Soul

Didn’t make the CBA Advance Christian trade show in Indianapolis last month? Conflicted over the crass cross-fertilization of consumer capitalism and middle-class Churchianity? Fear not—the Helpful Soul was there, trend-spotting for you. New stand-out products:

The Smiling Cross—water bottles, cups, desktops items decorated with the cross. Nothing unusual there except this cross has a set of eyes and eyebrows above each side of the crossbeam, slightly upturned at the ends, forming a smiley face. Yeah, freaked me out, too. Check out www.smilingcross.com for more. Or less.

Duraword Waterproof Bible--the ultimate Bible for the outdoorsy crowd—withstands water, ice, and sun (-60 to 120 degrees F) on its special synthetic paper. Includes only the New Testament, Psalms, and Proverbs in the well-weathered King James Version. Promotional brochure proclaims “The anchor in the storm”—not once, but twice on the front cover. Evidently useful for boaters. Visit www.duraword.com.

Beelieve—been stung by high-priced beauty care that fails to promote health and well-being for body and spirit? Check out the bath and body care products made from honey and beeswax on the family farm. Promises to “cleanse inside and out” and “provide balance for a better life.” Not really sure how it cleanses out the inside, but it's supported by Scripture, sort of—“Bee-lieve on the Lord Jesus Christ” Acts 16:31, slightly modified. Un-bee-leavably—no website.

Deco Eyewear—need to achieve the maximum in worldly coolness and style, like Bono, while maintaining a subtle but distinctive Christian witness without a bumpersticker? Check out the designer style sunglasses with the discrete fish symbol above the right eye—decoeyewear.com. When you want to be a witness. . . just barely.

And a new line of Jesus figurines—or are they action figures? You decide. In either case, there’s Harley-bikin’ Jesus, soccer Jesus, skateboard Jesus, rock-climbin’ Jesus, hang ten Jesus, bull ridin’ Jesus, and somewhat inexplicably, “Will work for food” Jesus. Each Jesus is dressed appropriately and authentically for the given activity, AND wears a crown of thorns and a white robe. Yes, really amazing. Coming in 2007—fire fighter Jesus and paradoxically, car crash Jesus (what? Jesus didn’t do driver’s ed?). Or is it Nascar Jesus on a bad day? Still can’t conceive of it? Visit www.WeAreFishermen.com. As they say, un-bee-lievable.

2007-02-15T21:34:00.000-05:00

SB is SB'd

Sailor Boy surfaced in Honolulu this week and was sun-burned (admittedly better than frost bitten). Seems he is now senior man for prepping the con tower on the surface, so he got a lot of time topside, watching the gentle green waters of the Pacific under clear skies and 80 degrees. He's also spent a lot of time at the helm underway. I admit that it's still somewhat disconcerting to think that the high school kid who hit three deer, a road sign, a dump truck, a parked car, and maybe a mailbox or two, is steering a 485 ft. nuclear submarine. But maybe he's really not sailor boy, but sailor man now. I think he even parallel parks it (when they make a pizza run). God speed, USGN 726.

2007-01-30T23:33:00.000-05:00

The Helpful Soul

For single female readers, the Helpful Soul offers the following information, gleaned from Guns, Germs, and Steel: The Fates of Human Societies by Jared Diamond. The author observes that of the world's 148 "big wild terrestrial herbivorous mammals" that could possibly be domesticated, only 14 were so domesticated by humans. Curious, we think--only 14?

The author lists six reasons that the majority of species failed domestic duties, which, it strikes the Helpful Soul, are directly applicable to the failure of male homo sapiens to achieve similar domestication in relationship to female members of the species. So, readers of the female persuasion, take note of why many mammals, and perhaps men, failed to be usefully domesticated:

Diet--when an animal eats another animal or plant, the conversion of food to body mass is less than 100% efficient, usually around 10%. This efficiency curve, therefore, rules out many potential domestication candidates. Male humans, however, are the inverse to this rule, being 150% efficient in the conversion of food to bio-mass, by means of Lazyboy, couch, and TV remote, thereby rendering them mostly stationary domestic objects.

Growth rate--the best candidates for domestication need to grow quickly. Among animals, this rules out elephants and gorillas as good food sources. In humans, it also rules out most men, since their growth rate, emotionally at least, is measured quite often in multiple decades. As medical science increases life spans, the growth rate to maturity may also increase to centuries.

Problems of captive breeding--many animals, due to complex, if not bizarre, matings behaviors will not reproduce in captivity, thus ruling them out of the domestication race. Surprisingly, many male homo sapiens show a persistent avoidance behavior to captivity, but not to breeding. This renders them less reliable as partners in the nurturing of young humans and in "calling you later."

Nasty disposition--large mammals that might otherwise be good candidates for domestication fail due to the fact that they are rather nasty, such zebras who bite viciously; or that they tend to eat humans, such as grizzly bears; or that they have personal hygiene and anger management issues, such as male humans.

Tendency to panic--large mammalian herbivores that tend to group together in the face of danger are easier to domesticate. Those that are nervous, flighty, and tend to run, such as deer, antelope, and single males homo sapiens, are not.

Social structure--mammalian herd animals, such as horses, that have dominance hierarchies, imprint on a leader, have overlapping territories, and tend to bunch up will survive well in pens and will imprint on a human leader in the process of domestication. Herd animals that are territorial, that feature competition between males for breeding, and lack the ability to submit to dominance do poorly in domestication. Bighorn sheep, rhinos, and male homo sapiens tend to be the later.

2007-01-28T20:29:00.000-05:00

Hula Skirts Are Flammable

Unlikely to hit the news, but there was a fire on the USS OHIO on Saturday. Sailor Boy called at 1:00 a.m. Sunday to tell me he was OK--and that woke me up immediately since any late night call from SB saying he's "OK" means there's a much bigger back story.

Seems a motor caught fire in the ventilation system, highly ironically, during a fire drill; so they had to cancel the drill and have the real thing. Fortunately, they were at dockside and not underwater.

Of course, it could be a cover story for someone accidently setting their hula skirt on fire. Or maybe not.

2007-01-24T15:01:00.000-05:00

Sailor Boy is now Hula Boy

SB/HB has landed in Honolulu, staying at a "luxury" Navy housing high-rise, affording a 15-story view from the top floor of Pearl Harbor and Wakiki. It's luxury because each man has a private room with cable TV and a queen bed. But it won't last long--for the next several months, the sub will have 260 people on board instead of 150, which means alternating a bunk with someone (and he didn't get to choose the someone).

So far he tried to get caught up on sleep, visited the Arizona memorial, and went to the beach. Today (Wed) the sub arrives, and they do a crew change. From then on it's mostly work and no shore leave. They will, however, get to do some live fire practice with various guns and torpedos. The bright spot is a lay-over in San Diego on the way home to Bremerton in May--something to look forward to. As Grandpa Squire always said, "Stay out of Balboa Park!" Of course that advice stems from 1944.

SB/HB sends his love to all.

2007-01-24T10:52:00.000-05:00

The Ladies, God Bless'em

 "The Woman’s Missionary Union president, Mrs. W. J. Cox, was invited to give the report for 1929. A number of men objected and introduced a resolution that 'we earnestly protest the president of the W.M.U. or any other woman addressing this Convention.' It appeared Mrs. Cox might not be allowed to speak, but the convention president, George W. Truett, said firmly, 'Brethren, let us hear the gentlewoman.' Truett’s powerful personality carried the day, but even so some men walked out. In addition to her report, Mrs. Cox could not refrain from ad-libbing, 'No woman went to sleep in the garden. No woman denied Him. No woman betrayed Him. But it was a woman, acting in intuition, who tried to save Him.'"

From Women in Baptist Life by Leon McBeth (Nashville: Broadman Press, 1979, p. 120).

2007-01-21T19:34:00.000-05:00

Musing by Fake Fire

Sitting on the comfy leather furniture at Panera Bread and wondering if one can find the same degree of familiarity and inspiration in front of a ceramic firelog and gas flame as an honest-to-goodness wood-fed hearth.

True story: once I visited Uncle Pike and Aunt O at their home on East Paris, not long after they moved there. It was in the winter with about four feet of snow in the yard. Pike had a car that was buried under a snow bank. It was that deep.

For some reason (which violated all reasonableness), we decided to have a fire in the fireplace after the kiddies had gone to bed. O wisely decided to leave the boys with their project and retired as well. This required an Artic trek to the barn, approximately fifty yards behind the house and across an ice-filled ravine to fetch firewood. Through the hip-deep snow. Green firewood and possibly wet as well.

Using paper, cardboard, and maybe a small coffee table, we succeeded in starting a sputtering, smoky fire. After forgetting to open the damper, we also accidently fumigated the house. Finally, enjoying our small triumph, we lounged in front of the hearth and waxed philosophical. Or waxed something. Maybe shoes.

After enjoying the toasty coziness, it was time for bed. The fire was slowly dying, ("and my dear, we're still goodbying. . . ."--that has nothing to do with the story. I just like the clever lyrics of "Let It Snow"--until it becomes predictable sentimental twaddle.) But I digress. . . .

There was no fire screen and the carpet was too close to the fireplace. So the fire had to be put out, and we had a smoldering, ember studded log to deal with. Put the fire out? Why not "out" as in the "out the front door"? Why not indeed?

Opening the front door, Pike and I use various tools--fireplace tongs, pokers, meat forks, maybe a cookie sheet--to heave the log into a snow bank in front of the house, where it angrily hissed its displeasure at us for some minutes. No, wait--we should have used a cookie sheet because we still scattered ashes and fire specks across the living room carpet.

No problem. Out came the vacuum and in a few minutes, we had cleaned up the ashes and bits of ember. They were now deposited in a paper sack under high air pressure. Shortly the vacuum began to smoke as the bag caught fire. Thinking quickly, we yanked the cover off the vac, dismounted the bag, and heaved it into the snow bank, where it expired with demure sigh.

Boys and fire . . . the Stone Age's gift to the modern world.

2007-01-14T20:42:00.000-05:00

A Little Bit of Chaim

"Will you come back to America?"

"I do not know. It would be pleasant. But I have never done the pleasant things. Still, it would be very pleasant to return to America. This is a great land. But Americans do not know what to do with its greatness. It will be wasted."

Jakob Daw in Davita's Harp by Chaim Potok

2007-01-14T20:22:00.000-05:00

The More Things Change

Sunday morning at Mars Hill, rocking with the David Crowder Band. I was thinking of all the similarities to the church of my childhood:

1957: Elvis wears a white belt.
2007: Rob Bell wears a white belt.

1957: Neighbor named Jack Daniels has a goat.
2007: David Crowder has a Jack Daniels goatee.

1957: All the boys are wearing Keds.
2007: All the boys in the band are wearing Keds.

1957: One square dude on the platform.
2007: One dude of a square platform.

1957: Singing ". . . like a fetter, bind my wandering heart to Thee" and thinking, "What's a fetter???"
2007: Singing ". . . like a fetter, bind my wandering heart to Thee" and thinking, "What's a fetter???"

1957: Standing room only for all services.
2007: Standing in the room for all of the service.

1957: Greatest desire: to be right.
2007: Greatest desire: to be N.T. Wright.

1957: Don't forget the offering.
2007: Don't forget the "joy boxes."

2007-01-10T21:55:00.000-05:00

Truer Words Seldom Spoken

"Well, I'll tell you, Dubin. Why we need God. Why I need God. To forgive us," he said then, and with the words his anger almost instantly subsided to sadness. . . . "Because when this is all over, this war, that's what we'll need, all of us who have done what war requires and, worse, what war permits, that's what we'll need, in order to be able to live the rest of our lives."

General Roland Teedle in Ordinary Heros by Scott Turow

2007-01-02T21:11:00.000-05:00

Make Mine with Cream Cheese

"I read such an interesting article on Gnosticism the other day," chips in Mr. Local Parson, . . . It referred to that splendidly readable book by--" He says a name that sounds like Inane Bagels, but I realise it's probably Elanie Bagels--or maybe Elaine Pagels, since the "b" sound was more of a pop than a blast--but Mr. Local Doctor, not listening, says irritably: "I don't understand this Gnostic stuff. What's the core premise?"

From The Heartbreaker by Susan Howatch

2007-01-01T01:09:00.000-05:00

New Year's Restitutions

To M and J: sorry for all the craziness in 2006. My new word for 2007: mental health (technically two words). You bring me joy, even when the toast lands honey-side-down in the yard.

To J and R: thanks for blessing us with a part in the process of forming little humans. Sign me up for another "Night with Grandpa" (see new word above).

To D and E: thanks for sharing your first night in your own home with me. Don't know how to make up for that but will try.

To A: wish you were with us more but someone has to do what you do (except Quakers, Mennonites, Amish, and Jehovahs Witnesses). Stay safe.

To family and friends: I can't ever repay your kindness and love this past year. But I'd like to try.

To V: You would be so proud of them all. Thinking of you, this week of our 33rd anniversary.

2006-12-27T22:57:00.000-05:00

Truer Words Seldom Spoken II

He stood up suddenly, not waiting for my reply, but instead of moving to the door he walked to the window, drew back one of the curtains and stared out into the dark night. "Yet sometimes it's not so easy to let a spouse go, I realise that," I heard him say. "No matter how much went wrong with the marriage there was still that profound commitment in the beginning, and how sad it is, isn't it, to be forced to witness the painful death of so many cherished hopes and dreams."

Nicholas Darrow to Carter Graham
in The High Flyer by Susan Howatch

2006-12-27T22:50:00.000-05:00

Truer Words Seldom Spoken

"But I was now standing in Sophie's shoes and I knew life was neither so simple nor so clear-cut . . . . When you love someone you long to trust them. When you love someone you yearn for the relationship to come right. When you love someone forgiveness is easy, patience is natural and hope becomes a way of life. How easy it is to endure too much suffering and lose sight of the place where the line against abuse has to be drawn!"

Carter Graham in The High Flyer by Susan Howatch

2006-12-21T14:36:00.001-05:00

Wright Stuff

There is a fad in some quarters about a "theology of incarnation," meaning that our task is to discern what God is doing in the world and to do it with him. But that is only half the truth, and the wrong half to start with. John's theology of the Incarnation is about God's Word coming as light into darkness, as a hammer that breaks the rock into pieces, as a fresh word of judgment and mercy. You might as well say that an incarnational missiology is about discovering what God is saying no to today and finding out how to say it with him. That was the lesson Barth and Bonhoeffer had to teach in Germany in the 1930s, and it's all too relevant as today's world becomes simultaneously more liberal and more totalitarian. This Christmas, get real, get Johannine, and listen again to the strange words spoken by the Word made flesh.

N. T. Wright, "What Is This Word?"
http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2006/decemberweb-only/151-42.0.html

2006-12-18T11:26:00.000-05:00

Newtonisms

As to myself, it is given me to trust in the Lord Jesus for life and salvation – I know he is both willing and able to save. Upon him as an All-sufficient Saviour and upon his Word of promise I build my hope, believing that he will not suffer me to be put to shame.

My exercise of grace is faint, my consolations small, my heart is full of evil, my chief sensible burdens are a wild ungoverned imagination and a strange sinful backwardness to reading the Scriptures and to secret prayer. These have been my complaints for many years, and I have no less cause of complaint than formerly.

But my eye and my heart is to Jesus. His I am, Him I desire to serve, to Him I this day would devote and surrender myself anew.

John Newton, January 1, 1773

2006-12-17T12:51:00.000-05:00

Freaky Conjunctions of Randomness?

Earlier in the week: Joanna meets with her posse at Subway in Middleville and is introduced to the new youth director at a nearby church.

Saturday: Joanna and Dennis clean up kitchen. Dennis mentions that the tablecloth he is putting on the table, as well as the dishes and silverware were purchased for a dinner with a former female friend that didn't happen because she got sick. FFF and Dennis subsequently parted.

Saturday night: Matt and Dennis visit a local church to hear Matt's guitar teacher play in the band. The band rocks out the house. On the way to the foyer for Christmas cookies and punch, Dennis sees someone out of the corner of his eye that looks like the FFF.

Moments later: Across the room Dennis sees the husband of the nemesis who spearheaded Peggy's departure from Middleville. Shivers runs up or down Dennis's spine. Oddly, nemesis is nowhere to be seen--could husband be escaping nemesis?

Several moments later: Matt tells Dennis he has a call. It is FFF who WAS at the church and thought she recognized Dennis, her FMF.

Many minutes later: FFF reveals that new youth director at local church is actually her youngest son. Neither realizes that son has already met Joanna. Dennis has never met youngest son.

Some indeterminate minutes later: Dennis accidentally hangs up the call in mid-sentence, which would force FFF to call information once again to get his number and call back. She does.

Many, many minutes later: Dennis and FFF have rehashed past four years of life experiences and agree to meet for coffee at some indefinite date after the holidays.

Question: Freaky, random coincidences or practical Calvinism at work???

2006-12-06T21:33:00.000-05:00

Doomed to Repeat

"Considering the size of the problem, the equipment that is involved on the other side, the [Cuban] nationalists fervor which may be engendered, it seems to me we could end up bogged down. I think we should keep constantly in mind the British in the Boer War, the Russians in the last war with the Finnish and our own experience with the North Koreans. . . ."

"An invasion would have been a mistake--a wrong use of our power. But the military are mad. They wanted to do this."

--John F. Kennedy, November 5, 1962

From An Unfinished Life by Robert Dallek

2006-12-05T22:30:00.000-05:00

Truer Words Seldom Spoken

Alice: I suppose the conservative ones will say marriage should be for ever.

Nick: I think they'll all say marriage should be for ever as far as a priest is concerned, but I know what I'm going to say to them in reply. . . . I shall say that although I wanted above all else to heal the relationship and keep the marriage alive I had to recognise in the end that no healing--no cure, I should say--was possible; I shall remind them that cures don't always happen, because God doesn't operate by waving a magic wand. But what he does try to do constantly is to redeem what goes wrong, and in redemption is the healing. That's why I've got to accept what happened and learn from it. It's because the learning will in the end become part of the redemption.

Alice Fletcher and Nicholas Darrow in The Wonder Worker by Susan Howatch

2006-12-05T22:28:00.000-05:00

If Ted Haggard Read Howatch

"Now let me lay out the unvarnished truth for you, Alice, and this isn't a prediction which may or may not come true. This is fact. . . . When any religious community goes to pieces the collapse almost always begins with a loss of integrity manifested in the form of sexual license. The leader uses and abuses the women around him--and men--and then the whole enterprise, fueled by an atmosphere of jealousy, suspicion and anger, descends rapidly into chaos.

Lewis Hall in The Wonder Worker by Susan Howatch

2006-12-05T21:31:00.000-05:00

Change the Names, Still the Same

A German professor of European history: "It was this younger generation that brought France into the war--this and Clemenceau, who is still living back in 1870. . . Oh, you simple Americans! You do not seem to realize that such things [British propaganda] are made to be published in the school books of the future, not for actual use, not to be seriously believed by the experienced and the disillusioned. That has been the story of European politics for centuries, since long before you dear naive people came into existence. You are like a new-comer dropping into a poker game that has been going on since long before you learned to distinguish one card from another. You do not guess that the deck is pin-pricked and that every kind of underhanded trick is tacitly allowed, so long as the player can get away with it."

Vagabonding Through Changing Germany by Harry A. Franck, 1920

2006-12-04T21:36:00.000-05:00

Olivia's Mom

Olivia's mother passed away Sunday morning in Panama City, Florida. Please read the beautiful reflection by Sara at www.sarahillman.blogspot.com.

2006-11-27T21:27:00.000-05:00

Truer Words Seldom Spoken

"What a strange life we all lead in this town," he said, "and all because we think we're doing the right thing for the country."
"If all the people who talk about doing the right thing for the country only did the right thing for the country," Brig said with weary dryness, "what a wonderful country it would be."
"It is a wonderful country," the director of the Post said. "It just gets a little mixed-up sometimes."
Advise and Consent by Allen Drury (1959)

2006-11-21T22:24:00.000-05:00

Truer Words Seldom Spoken

"Like a city in dreams, the great white capital stretches along the placid river from Georgetown on the west to Anacostia on the east. It is a city of temporaries, a city of just-arriveds and only-visitings, built on the shifting sands of politics, filled with people passing through. . . . They come, they stay, they make their mark, writing big or little on their times, in the strange, fantastic, fascinating city that mirrors so faithfully their strange, fantastic, fascinating land in which there are few absolute wrongs or absolute rights, few all-blacks or all-whites, few dead-certain positives that won't be changed tomorrow; their wonderful, mixed-up, blundering,stumbling, hopeful land in which evil men do good things and good men do evil in a way of life and govenment so complex and delicately balanced that only Americans can understand it and often they are baffled."
--Advise and Consent by Allen Drury (1959)

2006-11-09T20:28:00.000-05:00

Mr. President's Neighborhood

A semi-regular educational program designed to wean viewers from naive optimism and nascent jingoism.

Episode 3: Mr. P Says "Just Say No to the Course"
http://mm.dfilm.com/mm2s/mm_route.php?id=3076336

Episode 4: Mr. P Fiddles with a Riddle.
http://mm.dfilm.com/mm2s/mm_route.php?id=3076353

[Paste the URL in your browser if necessary or just convenient.]

2006-11-07T13:02:00.000-05:00

Religious Priorities, Take II

"Do you suppose that abuses are eliminated by destroying the object which is abused? Men can go wrong with wine and women. Shall we then prohibit and abolish women? The sun, the moon, and the stars have been worshipped. Shall we then pluck them out of the sky? ... See how much He has been able to accomplish through me, though I did no more than pray and preach. The Word did it all. Had I wished I might have started a conflagration at Worms. But while I sat still and drank beer with Philip and Amsdorf, God dealt the papacy a mighty blow."

--Martin Luther

2006-11-05T20:09:00.000-05:00

Truer Words Seldom Spoken

"We know so little about even those who are closest to us," said Alex. "We're all mysteries to one another--and often we're profound mysteries to ourselves."
. . . He closed his eyes. Then suddenly he said very clearly: "Oh God, how we all lie to one another!"

--Alex Jardine, Ultimate Prizes by Susan Howatch

"Most people have, at some time or another, to stand alone and to suffer, and their final shape is determined by their response to their probation: they emerge either the slaves of circumstances or in some sense captains of their souls."

--Charles E. Raven, A Wanderer's Way
Quoted in Ultimate Prizes by Susan Howatch

2006-11-05T20:08:00.000-05:00

Truer Words Seldom Spoken

At the last dinner party I had attended, some inebriated youth had tried to tell me that the Beatles were greater musicians than Beethoven; that was the moment when I knew beyond doubt that the 1960s had parted company with reality.

--Charles Ashworth, Absolute Truths by Susan Howatch

2006-10-27T13:26:00.000-04:00

Sell Hell? A Modest List of Possibilities

From CNNMoney.com: (quote) The Internet domain name Hell.com is scheduled to be sold at a live auction Friday, with organizers expecting bids of more than $1 million. . . . [Hell.com is owned by] BAT Flli LLC, a creative think tank whose founder, 57-year-old Kenneth Aronson, registered the name in 1995 . . . Since then, it has been home to a secretive online community, a project Aronson says will benefit from the proceeds of the Hell.com, which gets about 5,000 new visitors daily, the paper said. Aronson told the Journal he won't sell Hell.com for less than several million dollars. "Hell.com is one of the most powerful brands on the Earth," Aronson said. (end quote)

This raises numerous questions: a secretive community built around "hell.com"? Whoa-ho-ho, now that's a conspiracy theorist's dream. Are the blogs onto this? One of the most powerful brands on Earth? Add in the afterlife and that's a really, really powerful brand. But what about buyers? What use will they make of this domain name?

In the interest of being a helpful soul (and bettering my chances in the world to come), herewith a modest list of suggested uses for the new and, no doubt, improved, hell.com:

www.hell.com/seat=selector--pick your seat for that next 16 hour flight to Japan. Choose from: mother with three children under four with loose diapers and 120 decibel screams directly in front of you; portly man with questionable hygiene and braided nose hair to your left; man who says "so sorry" after sneezing into your dinner entre, repeatedly, to your right.

www.hell.com/healthinfo/customer*service--Get the number for the toll line, 666-666-6666 (666 rings later) "To change your current plan, press 1; to obtain new ID cards, press 2; to obtain authorization for urgent medical services to treat potentially life-threatening conditions, use your touchpad as a calculator and enter the square root of the last four digits of your social security number."

www.hell.com/single!mingle--choose a potential new mate from profiles meticulously verified by terminated staff writers of the National Inquirer to insure that any mentally healthy person who has left his or her issues behind is not included. All photos are approximations of the person's real appearance. Anyone you call will immediately develop extreme dependency needs that only you can attempt to meet without success.

www.hell.com/commute+quest--enter your home address and your work address. Let commute+quest find a route that detours you through one construction delay after another, insuring that you arrive at work shortly before quitting time and that you arrive home shortly before time to leave for work. Includes diagrammed hand gestures and vocabulary suggestions.

www.hell.com/virtualrealtor\homes!--tour, make offers, and finance a new home on-line with guaranteed results! All homes come with full warranties (all provisions voided by incomprehensible legalese in 6 pt type on last page); guaranteed substandard wiring, plumbing, and appliances; flood, fire, and earthquake hazards guaranteed; all neighbors are out on bail for meth, crack, or assault, guaranteed.

2006-10-22T21:42:00.000-04:00

A Clever Democrat Ploy

Michigan Governor Jennifer "Oh, Canada" Granholm recently sent me some campaign literature. I was immediately impressed by another brilliant Democratic Party ploy to make Gov. Granholm appear more like a Republican. In fact, she looks a lot like that greatest of all Republicans, Abe Lincoln. On a really good hair day, at least for Abe. Pretty amazing, eh?

2006-10-22T21:17:00.000-04:00

In Memoriam

Xena "Coon Dog"
1998-2006

Gone but not forgotten by our carpet.

2006-10-19T22:00:00.000-04:00

So What the Columbus Zoo Am I Anyway?

We have a team development project going at work now--using an assessment tool called "Leading from Your Strengths." Some of you may already have done this sort of inventory. Twenty-four questions in about 10 minutes, and then you get a description of your leadership style as represented by one or more of four animals.

Choices are: Lion, Otter, Golden Retriever, Beaver

"So what are you?" gentle readers may ask. Guess.

2006-10-16T22:31:00.000-04:00

A Modest List of Things John Calvin

His favorite jeans?
His favorite college?
His favorite president?
His favorite NFL running back?
His favorite comic strip?
His favorite chemical sequence?
His favorite New York literati?
His Favorite NBA player?

___________________

Calvin Kleins (but not too tight and not too low)

Calvin College (naturally, their sweatshirt with his Calvin Kleins)

Calvin "Silent Cal" Coolidge (30th President of these here United States--Dorothy Parker, who upon being informed of his death, sardonically asked, "How could they tell?)

Calvin Hill (first Dallas Cowboy to have 1,000 yards rushing in a season and a team with great cheerleaders)

Calvin and Hobbes (but just for the philosophical parts)

The Calvin Cycle (featuring his personal obsession--carbon fixation!)

Calvin Trillin (staff writer for the venerable if not creaky New Yorker just because he likes the funny last name)

Grant Hill (of the Detroit Pistons and Orlando Magic, nepotisically relate to Calvin Hill above)

2006-10-16T21:51:00.000-04:00

What Did Grand Rapids Do To John Piper?

Prominent pastor and Reformed theology meister John Piper recently was quoted in Christianity Today (Sept. 2006) as saying, "I think the criticism of Reformed theology is being silenced by the mission and justice and evangelism and worship and counseling. . . . We're not off in a Grand Rapids ghetto crossing our t's and dotting our i's and telling the world to get their act together."

Hmmm. . . . I work in a Grand Rapids ghetto. I mostly cross my t's and dot my i's, but am occasionally careless in this regard. BUT I don't tell the world to get its act together. Unless I'm driving. So what does that make me? Am I Reformable?

2006-10-15T20:34:00.000-04:00

Sorting Out Religious Priorities

I'm indebted to Uncle Pike for pointing out this Class 1 example of how religion can create whole categories of priorities that have nothing whatsoever to do with the essentials of Christianity--it probably also helps if you know something about church life in Little Bit of Dutch Heaven, a.k.a., West Michigan.

In the 14 October, 2006, "Religion" section of the GR Press was a story about Vos Construction, a local company that just completed it's 150th church building project (a well-deserved "woo-hoo!" for Vos, everyone). Among the kudos for Vos Construction was this comment by a local church that began working on a budget for a new building and discovered--oh my!--they didn't have enough money for a steeple. Enter Vos Constuction.

Direct quote from the pastor: "They helped us get to the point where we could get rid of the nonessentials to allow us to put a steeple on the church."

There you have it--cut out all the non-essential crap, just make sure you've got a steeple, because nothing says authentic Christianity like a steeple. In fact, get two if possible.

2006-10-09T20:34:00.000-04:00

It Fakes a Village

My week in Rodelheim, Germany, had some of the feelings of stepping back into a Teutonic Mayberry RFD. It's divided north to south by the railroad and there is no road directly across the tracks for several blocks in the middle of town. You have to take the pedestrian tunnel from east to west and in reverse. It serves as the town square in a sense--people coming and going, a coffee and frankfurter stand next to the grocery on the west, a bakery and fruit stall on the east, and pubs and small take-away food shops scattered along the shopping area to the east.

Each morning dozens of people were making the brisk walk or bike ride to the train station. In the evening, folks were stopping at the markets to get a bag or two of groceries--never more than what can be carried home on foot. And from the terraces and balconies of the apartment buildings, clothing attempted to dry in the slanting autumn light. Learning the neighbor's preferences in undergarments would not be difficult nor would most other secrets, I suspect.

Of course, if one was troubled by such thoughts, he (or she) could take advantage of confession at the Catholic church two blocks east of the tracks, conveniently summoning the faithful at 6:15 on Saturday evening for the 6:30 service. I slipped into the last pew, a little embarrassed by the book bag of chocolate bars and a bargain Riesling I had picked up on my way to the apartment and then a little confused as to where to place my feet. The pews had severe wooden kneeling benches built into the pew ahead of me, and I had to decided to either bend at the knees and tuck my feet under or stretch over the kneeler, which looked too causal. I tried to achieve my most correct posture, go for the tuck under, and appear as if I belonged.

It would hardly have made a whit of difference if the service had been in Latin since it was in German, which sounded like all gutturals and z's in the stone-driven acoustics. What kept my interest was the participation of three lay women and two alter girls in the non-priestly parts of the service and the well-paced delivery of the homily by the tall, dark-featured priest who seemed to resemble more a European Cup soccer player than a padre. I wondered if this was now the norm in John Paul II Catholicism (yes, I know he's dead, but his influence will remain for years, if not decades).

Yet appearances to the contrary, it's not the homogenous, happy Mayberry of 1962. One evening I turned the corner coming from the train station to meet several Muslim women emerging from an apartment building. Evidently the weekly Koran study had just ended. Another night, I logged off the Internet cafe computer and then had to wait a few minutes while the young clerk finished up his early evening prayers and carefully folded his beautifully embroidered prayer rug, as if it were the most natural thing in the world--running the shop and keeping the faith--which to him it was.

What brought this into sharper contrast was an evening dinner conversation with a German publishing professional, who in response to my question about Turkish immigrants, began to relate his experience in another nearby town. "They don't want to be a part of German culture. They don't learn the language or pursue education. They don't gain job skills. If their children don't learn in school, then it's the schools fault." And so on. For fifteen minutes. I had obviously struck a nerve, one very close to the surface at that.

Behind my German acquaintance's stark assessment was something we hear echoed in our own immigration debate: fear. Fear of those not like us, fear and resentment of the economic demands of the poor minority, fear that the culture that is "us" will be lost by the inclusion of the "them." And for the "them" I imagine it is in many ways the same: fear that their religion and culture will be diluted and corrupted, fear for their own economic future, resentment of the tantalizing material culture surrounding yet eluding them.

And so they walk past each other, not really talking, just carrying out the routines of commerce and inhabiting the same space but not the same place. And it fakes a village.

2006-10-09T19:46:00.000-04:00

Why German Kids Can Push That Log

Breakfast, as served by Frau Hanzlicek each morning in Frankfurt:

1. A plate of sliced meats, including at least one of the following: ham, salami, summer sausage, ham sausage with fat chunks, soft squishy sausage, and, twice in five days, sliced turkey meat.
2. A plate of cheese, with at least three, sometimes four varieties, including the soft squishy cheese.
3. A basket of bread including a hard roll, two pieces of wheat bread, and a piece of hard, granular bread made from wood scraps.
4. A container of yogurt, also soft and very squishy.
5. Orange juice from a can, judging by the taste.
6. Coffee.
7. A piece of fruit such as a nectarine or peach, but never soft nor squishy.

2006-10-07T11:03:00.000-04:00

Weather in Frankfurt

Monday--cool with growing dampness in afternoon
Tuesday--coolish with persistent dampness
Wednesday--on the cool side with falling dampness
Thursday--cooler with umbrellish dampness
Friday--cool to cooler with beguiling dampness
Saturday--outright coolness with sly dampness

2006-10-07T04:37:00.000-04:00

Why German Preschoolers Will Beat Our Preschoolers

On my walk to the train station in Rodelheim, I pass a German preschool and its playground. Surprisingly, there are few typical playground fixtures, such as swings or slides. Instead, there is an obstacle course with short walls, pipes, etc. And (this caught my attention), a log. Yes, a large diameter, 15-foot log. Maybe it's a team-building exercise--"Come, mein children, we must move the log over to there!"

So, ja, sadly, our preschoolers are doomed in the new global market.

2006-09-30T11:42:00.000-04:00

If Virtue Is Its Own Reward, a Modest List of Things Which Are Not.

1. Big Mac induced miocardial infarction.

2. 55 in a 35.

3. A bad case of the heebie-jeebies.

4. Jeans you looked hot in, ten years ago.

5. Walking pneumonia and the boogie-woogie blues.

2006-09-29T15:11:00.000-04:00

Why I Like Sticky Notes for Bookmarks

Sticky notes make the best bookmarks. They are cheap, recyclable, and stay in place week after week like a well-trained Labrador.

Things, which in my experience, do not work as well:

1. Bits of paper, torn from a newspaper, in-flight magazines, napkins, or court summons—they slip out, blow out, or drop out, thus failing the reliability factor. Or you lose them on purpose.
2. Paperclips—there’s always a sharp tip that catches and tears the page, proving that “clip” is thus a double entendre.
3. Boarding pass—see 1. above, as well as creating the embarrassment of looking for your boarding pass while it’s stuck into a book tucked under your armpit.
4. Other books—the lack of effectiveness is directly proportional to the thickness of book two, known as the “Rotterdam Theorem” (named after Erasmus, it’s first formulator or the constriction of two English words when you’ve lost your place— again).
5. Attorney’s statement—an annoying reminder of things best forgotten.
6. Small hand tools—doubly annoying when hanging pictures or doing home wiring.
7. Any strip of cardboard with a string attached—just furthering someone’s commercial agenda at your expense.
8. All surgical tools—obviously.

2006-09-28T11:29:00.000-04:00

Truer Words Seldom Spoken:

Charles Ashworth: “Have you got some grudge against romance?”

Lyle Christie: “Of course--it's the road to illusion, isn't it? . . . Any realist knows that.”

From: Glittering Images by Susan Howatch

2006-09-26T12:06:00.000-04:00

Mr. President's Neighborhood

A semi-regular educational program designed to wean viewers from naive optimism and nascent jingoism.

Episode 1: Mr. P Explains Why Iraq Is Not Another Vietnam
http://mm.dfilm.com/mm2s/mm_route.php?id=3041675

Episode 2: Mr. P Examines an Idiom and Other Big Words
http://mm.dfilm.com/mm2s/mm_route.php?id=3042276

2006-09-24T19:52:00.000-04:00

Hope for Living

A serial drama based on the foibles and frustrations of love and friendships.

Disclaimer: All characters depicted in Hope for Living are fictional creations and any resemblance to persons living, dead, living but appearing dead, or actually dead but appearing to be alive, are completely coincidental. Hope for Living features exaggeration; entendre in single, double, or other multiple forms; humor--intentional, unintentional, or failed; and life’s absurdities, mercilessly compressed into three segments. These qualities are to be expected and celebrated. As a reflection of reality, it is not real and more than real. As a work of fiction, it represents no one and everyone.

Viewers, whose early, unchecked tendencies toward perfectionism were imprinted upon spelling and grammar by overly rigid fourth-grade teachers, may feel squeamish or be outraged. These viewers are advised to read/watch other blogs.

Further Disclaimer: No actual bears were educated in the production of this program.

Paste the URL into your browser address bar if necessary or just darn curious.

Episode 1: Depressed Man Discovers That Bears Love All Things http://mm.dfilm.com/mm2s/mm_route.php?id=3041039
(with rare guest appearance by J$Blogger)

Episode 2: Depressed Man Discovers the Honey Do’s and Don’ts
http://mm.dfilm.com/mm2s/mm_route.php?id=2839606

Episode 3: Depressed Man Discovers Why You Snooze, You Lose
http://mm.dfilm.com/mm2s/mm_route.php?id=2865594

Episode 4: Depressed Man Discovers Why There’s Always a Catch
http://mm.dfilm.com/mm2s/mm_route.php?id=2865570

Episode 5: Depressed Man Discovers Why You Can’t Have Your Cake
http://mm.dfilm.com/mm2s/mm_route.php?id=2851224

Episode 6: Depressed Man Discovers the Importance of Vowel Movement
http://mm.dfilm.com/mm2s/mm_route.php?id=2844580

Episode 7: Depressed Man Discovers Choice Is Overrated
http://mm.dfilm.com/mm2s/mm_route.php?id=2843724

Episode 8: Depressed Man Discovers Why Silence Is Unheard of
http://mm.dfilm.com/mm2s/mm_route.php?id=2842435

Episode 9: Depressed Man Discovers Why Ring Tones Are So Annoying
http://mm.dfilm.com/mm2s/mm_route.php?id=2842422

Episode 10: Depressed Man Discovers Why You Take It with a Grain of Salt
http://mm.dfilm.com/mm2s/mm_route.php?id=3041045

Episode 11: Depressed Man Discovers Why Ants Make You Say “Uncle.”
http://mm.dfilm.com/mm2s/mm_route.php?id=2842234

Episode 12: Depressed Man Discovers Why You Can’t Shoo Flies from the Pie
http://mm.dfilm.com/mm2s/mm_route.php?id=2840163

Episode 13: Depressed Man Discovers That Truth Is Stronger Than Diction
http://mm.dfilm.com/mm2s/mm_route.php?id=3020554

2006-09-19T21:58:00.000-04:00

Update on Sailor Boy. . . second weekend of September I visited SB in Seattle. Flying out late Thursday, I arrived at the airport at 1:30 a.m. Friday EST and took the "short" $24 cab ride to the Howard Johnson's about 8 miles from the airport. A very polite middle-aged, Middle Eastern man--Pakistani perhaps--checked me in at 2:00 a.m. body time and directed me to my room. This was a circa 1958 Howard Johnsons where the rooms opened onto the parking lot for the front rooms and the backside rooms onto a chain link fence. The room had been updated--about 1980--but it was clean and with only 12 channels on the TV and me dog tired, it was time to sleep.

Next morning I got breakfast at Denny's across the highway--does every Denny's use the same grease in their hashbrowns for the Grand Slam Breakfast? Back at the hotel, I got the call that SB was on his way, so I proceeded to check out . . . and was serviced by the same polite, m-a, m-e gentleman who must work 24/7. He beamed proudly at my positive response to the question, "And how do you like our nice hotel?"

SB made the hour-long drive in his elderly white Toyota Camry and we began the trek back around Puget Sound to Sub Base Bremerton. Along the way he pointed out the sites of interest, mainly the obvious reasons that Washington is called "The Pine State." Crossing a high bridge over the tail end of the Sound, I got a look at some beautiful scenery and several houses on bluffs overlooking the Sound that most go for $1M and up. In case anyone needs to relocate, check them out.

Highlights of Friday were a tour of his housing area on the base which is about 15-20 minutes from the boat. SB has a room about the size of your typical college dorm room with similar furniture. He shares a bath with another sailor in the next room. Just down the street are all the necessities: Navy Exchange for tax-free goodies, mess hall, theater, fast food, grocery, etc. Not that SB seems to spend much time there since he's working most of the time.

After a short nap for both of us, we got some grub and headed back down the Sound to Bremerton and the Navy Base/Ship Yard. Parking on top of the parking garage, we got a great view of two aircraft carriers that were in port, adding 10,000 sailors to the local population and turning parking into a scare commodity on work days. Since SB was bringing a civilian onto the base, we had to have a Navy van from the boat pick us up and take us through the gate.

Given the fact that we were entering an area with access to nuclear aircraft carriers and submarines, the security didn't seem all that rigid, but then I wasn't going to test it. The guard didn't notice that my driver's license looks like a crazed Melungeon. Once at the pier, we walked across the gangway to the stern of the USGN 726 (the Ohio, moored, somewhat ironically, next to the Michigan). Here's where I entered a personal "dream-come-true" zone for the next two hours. Almost 600 ft. long with 24 missle tubes and a 30 ft. sail with massive planes on either side (that tall thing sticking up out of the sub with wings on it), we made our way forward and down a ladder through a hatch.

How can I begin to describe such an incredibly complex array of massive steel hulls, plumbing, electronics, computers, pumps, and weapon systems--all designed to sink hundreds of feet underwater on purpose. Forget the movies. Everything is much smaller, tighter, compact, cramped, head-thumping and shin-bumping than I had imagined. The stainless steel ladders between the four decks are straight up and down for the most part. The water-tight compartment hatchs are about 3.5 ft. in diameter and required a swing low, sweet chariot posture to get through. And everywhere there are pipes, valves, gauges, equipment, duty stations. There's a huge, 12 cylinder diesel that runs with a snorkel at periscope depth, a giant compressor, huge pumps and valves--everything depends on air and water getting moved to the right place at the right time. With pipes holding air at 4000 pounds per square inch and outside hull pressures way beyond that, this is very serious business. And it's mostly done by kids being trained and supervised by the old salts.

Basically we were allowed everywhere except the radio room off the main control room and the reactor room, which were off-limits (that was ok with me, although no one seemed to glow in the dark). SB's work area was a narrow walk-in with three computer stations, shelves and files, and was situated close to the captain's and officers' area and the control room. As SB noted humbly, yeomen make everything happen on a boat because everything has to be documented and it has to go through them. And the yeomen make it happen by knowing how to get it done and who to know to get it done and forgot about how the Navy says it's supposed to get done.

A few other boat highlights: looking up a 40 ft. missle tube, now converted into a four-level/chamber interlock to launch SEAL teams and a mini sub off the deck underwater; the torpedo room and tubes (no weapons on board but still impressive); looking up the sail where control equipment and a machine gun have to be hauled up by ropes to the top of the sail so the sub can be guided on the surface--it's one long, long climb up a straight ladder (this is where SB got caught in a pressure current when someone opened the hatch too soon and floated him off the ladder); the crew berths that were stacked three high and some were just an opening in the wall where you crawl in and try to remember not to sit up since there's no head room anyway and you just climbed in after another guy climbed out most likely.

The Ohio is still undergoing the final phase of a refit and the boat was busy 24 hrs. a day with civilian contractors installing equipment, so we were constantly moving out of someone's way. Looking at the huge warehouses and machine shops on the pier to maintain the boats, it's easy to see why our Defense budget is what it is, even minus the $200 hammers and $900 toilet seats.

On Saturday we did some shopping, rode the car ferry to Seattle and toured the city. It's an interesting collection of post-60s social detritus and hip, loco java Northwest affluency. Stadiums for basketball, football, baseball; the oddly UFOish space needle; a ratio of one coffee shop for every ten residents; the gorgeous homes high enough to overlook the bay and the less than beautiful parts and people; the harbor with it's busy ferries plying the waters and all the messy industrial port stuff thankfully down in lowly Tacoma; Mt. Rainier and Cascades to the east and the Olympic range to the west--it's one beautiful piece of manifest destiny and social contradiction--but isn't that America?

2006-08-28T21:59:00.000-04:00

Coming to this space soon . . . the complete first season of Dman and All-About-Me Girl.
Don't miss a thrilling episode (unless you are busy eating popsicles).