The RonBlog

I Wish

2011-07-11T23:48:00.003-04:00

It's been easily two or three years since I've written anything from my heart on this blog page. Whether it's unwelcome or overdue doesn't matter to me, 'cause here it comes anyway.

When asked what they'd wish for, a lot of people come up with the impossible. Some say they'd wish for unlimited riches, movie star fame, or ridiculously beautiful appearance. Others would wish they had a magic "undo" button that would let them back up every time they made a mistake, or for superpowers like the ability to fly or become invisible.

My wishes, on the other hand, aren't impossible. Given enough time spent, effort expended, hours studied, etc., any number of my wishes could actually come true. But at age 44, I realize it's likely that not one of them actually will. I'm too scattered, my attention divided between too many things. Too much water under the bridge, too much respect lost, too many mistakes made. Boundaries too tight, opportunities too limited, motivation too scarce, education too expensive, time too short.

So here's a random selection of wishes from my list of possible - yet highly unlikely - wishes:

- I wish I could draw human figures in action like John Buscema could. Just flowing from my brain through a pencil and onto the paper. To make a few lines suddenly just come alive.

- I wish I had a wide vocal range. Being a low tenor with a four-octave range like Bruce Dickinson would let me sing just about anything I could imagine.

- I wish I was one of those instantly likable guys. Outgoing, big smile, the sort of person that's popular simply because he's a nice guy that makes you feel good to be around him.

- I wish I made more money. Not a ton more - just like 20k more a year. Not to change my class, or to get a bigger or better anything. I've never needed stuff or status. I just want to not fear things like needing new tires for the cars soon, and to feel like I'm being paid for the quality and intelligence I bring to my job every day.

- I wish I enjoyed weightlifting and running. I know I feel better as a result of doing these things, but I'd just like to not dread and hate every minute of them.

- I wish I had close friends close by. I hate that even after living here for five years, there is almost literally no one I can call and say, "Hey, let's grill steaks tonight," or "What fun thing are we doing this weekend?"

- I wish I was perceived as a problem solver striving for excellence in everything. I think my intolerance for ineptitude and desire to see people do their best is usually seen as ranting or complaining. Why are the lazy popular? Why are the clueless elevated? Why are the intelligent incredulous? Bah, enough said about that.

- I wish I was a real musician. Not the one I've been pretending to be for the last thirty years, but someone with a thorough knowledge of theory, the ability to improvise, to harmonize, to sit down at a piano and play the music on the sheet in front of me.

- I wish I fit in somewhere. I'm not nerdy enough for the nerd crowd, not artsy enough for the artists' scene, and not musical enough for the musicians. I'm too transparent for the Christian crowd, and have too much religious history for the metalheads. I'm too fat for the popular folks, too temperate for the drinkers, and too old for the people I seem to relate to most. Too quick-witted for the dullards, but too slow for the improv. Too low on the totem pole for managers, too uneducated for the university grads, too ugly for the beautiful, too poor for the upper crust. Too liberal for the right, too conservative for the left, too opinionated for the center.

- And lastly, I wish I didn't stay up past midnight thinking about all the things I wish I could do, wish I could learn, and wish I was.

Some Pages Get More Attention Than Others...

2011-07-05T13:52:00.005-04:00

You may wonder if I post more than two things a year on this blog anymore. I'm not certain myself. But one thing that DOES get updated five or six times per week is the Pastor Ron Daniel page on Facebook. You can check it out here.

If you want the studies to show up in your Facebook feed every morning, click the "Like" button.

Viking Lives

2011-03-03T15:01:00.005-05:00

Only have a quick second, but wanted to drop a note on here about Viking being alive again.

We're working on a new album (first full-length one since 1989, and first release since 2006). Keep up to date on the Viking Facebook page and see some history here. Old school thrash metal is alive and well!

Being Creative For A Living RULES

2010-10-14T08:17:00.007-04:00

So I've been busily producing stuff at work, and learning more modern CSS practices. (If you don't know what those are, you have no need to.) I've been writing copy and building web pages like these:

Avid Pro Tools Mbox

George Massenburg Discusses GML

$30,000 Mic Locker Giveaway

and creating emails like these:

Novation Launchpad

Zoom H1

and making more website graphics like these:

(click to see them full-size)

I've also been doing a lot more cool custom vinyl work for guitars and drums, but I'll have to post that stuff when I've got more time...

Scuba and Suppliers

2010-10-03T12:04:00.005-04:00

So, I haven't posted much, 'cause I've been busy (how many of my blog entries have started out like this?). Lots to do at work, and of course wedding plans and preparations take up quite a bit of time. In the midst of all that, I started scuba diving for "real." (You may recall my brief introduction to this largely voyeuristic sport in my "Big World, Big Mistake" blog entry way back in December of '05.) My life's upheaval in 2006 and the following years being what they were, I've only just gotten back to servicing this addiction.

I was PADI Open Water certified this summer, and have been getting into the water as much as I can in preparation for the daily scuba diving in Jamaica I'll be doing during my late-November honeymoon.

It's been a fantastic experience... with the exception of dealing with online retailers. Having worked at Sweetwater.com for over four years now, I've grown accustomed to responsive customer service and impeccable business practices. But I've learned this is far from an industry standard. My most recent interaction was with an abominable company called Scuba.com.

I won't bore you with the details of the conflicts, but suffice it to say they are at best unresponsive and unapologetic. And at worst, at least one of their employees is a vindictive THIEF. I cannot recommend strongly enough that you avoid them at all costs.

On the recommendation of a couple of diving friends, today I tried LeisurePro.com.

It wasn't exactly a Sweetwater-quality interaction, and they have a name that brings to mind the sale of recliners and footbaths rather than scuba supplies... But they do have the best website in the online scuba retail industry, and were more than helpful in the area of price negotiation, so I'm looking forward to seeing how this transaction is completed.

Where'd He Go?

2010-07-06T08:35:00.007-04:00

Wow, been busy with the new job. Wondering what I'm doing? WAY too much to say... but this was a tiny fraction of my last week:

(click to see them full-size)

You can see them in rotation on Sweetwater's front page.

Addendum: Here's more stuff from today...

Customize Your Guitar

2010-04-10T13:43:00.002-04:00

One thing I've forgotten to mention in my blog is that I do custom vinyl cutting. That means if you need anything from your favorite band logo huge on your car, or the hours of business operation on your front door, I'm the guy to call.

One thing that people don't realize is that vinyl is perfect for customizing guitars. It can stay on forever, or you can change it every week. Here's a few examples, but the sky is the limit.

If you want me to do this for you (or mail you vinyl so you can install it yourself) let me know!

Another Floor Plan

2010-04-03T23:40:00.004-04:00

I spent some time tonight creating the floor plan for my recording studio's long-overdue acoustic treatment design. Auralex offers the design for free, but one must of course map out their own room in order to have the analysis done. And my mixing room has a crazy layout.

Self-portrait

2010-03-01T22:13:00.001-05:00

"Who I See"

DIY Help Needed

2010-02-21T13:28:00.003-05:00

Okay, so part my living room needs a new floor. I really like the Pergo-style laminate wood flooring, and have designed everything to fit well and look nice.

The only difficulty I can foresee is in the transition. You see, the edge where carpet and wood meet is curved. Here is where the entryway tile and living room carpet meet:

As you can see from this rendering, I need a similar transition between carpet and laminate wood floor:

Any ideas?

Link To My New Art Gallery

2010-02-17T12:18:00.010-05:00

I've uploaded over 120 pieces of my art to my website. Here's the link to the gallery...

Learning Something New

2009-09-26T14:22:00.004-04:00

Of late, I have been trading photography and Photoshop tips with a couple of coworkers who are very talented photographers.

Recently we put our heads together to gain some collective understanding of the techniques which seem to be the latest trend in photography: HDR (high dynamic range) photos and the usage of various tonemapping algorithms.

Although the effects have been used far too much and gotten overexposed (pardon the pun), it's hard to argue with the results when you see the amount of detail which becomes visible.

Since FedEx just dropped off my new tripod ($16.76 on Amazon), I figured I'd give it a try. Before knowing any of this, here's a picture I would have taken of Dakota:

Taking three simultaneous photos at different exposures, combining them into an HDR file, and then tonemapping the result gives me this:

Another picture from my backyard:

And then the same drill (three exposures, combined to HDR, tonemapped), only this one I selectively blurred the background:

It's a bit of work, but I'm pretty excited about the possibilities.

Bears And Dreams

2009-03-18T23:49:00.004-04:00

When I am sick, I tend to have pretty vivid dreams. Last night, I dreamt two entire stories - the second one being a sequel to the first. Many of the details have been lost, but some remain clear. I figured before they all were lost, I'd at least put it down for posterity. Here's the opening scene to the sequel:

PROLOGUE

"I think it's eight three three."

The boys were trying to buy a bear using their stepmother's credit card, but having trouble reading the three-digit code on the back.

"It's either eight three three or eight three eight."

"Can't he try them both?" the younger one asked.

"Shut up!" Casey hissed, covering the phone with his right palm and jabbing his brother with the elbow of the same arm.

The older boy removed his hand and spoke again, attempting to sound as adult and collected as the fictional Game Preserve Director he was purporting to be.

"Y'know, my wife... she's constantly taking this thing in and out of her purse, using it for everything from jewelry to tampons, it's worn down... Go ahead and try eight three three. Without my reading glasses, that's the best guess I got."

Casey was pleased with himself for thinking to mention tampons. Though he'd recently turned 14, it was the first time he'd ever spoken the word aloud. It had seemed to him a subject that men would joke about to establish camaraderie, and appeared to have worked. The man on the other end had chuckled, made an unintelligible statement of commiseration, and ran the card.

"Looks like we're a go," the broker said. "The card went through, and you're the proud owner of a new black bear. So now if you or someone on your transportation crew want to get ahold of our Distribution Manager, that'd be the way to make arrangements for picking it up."

Casey wrote down the staffer's contact information, thanked the man, and hung up.

"Did we get her?" Mason excitedly asked his brother. "Did it go through?"

"Yeah, it went through, but we don't have her yet. How are we gonna pull off picking her up? It's not like we can glue on some fake mustaches and say, 'Throw her on the back of my bike," y'know? We're only halfway there."

In truth, the boys were nowhere near the halfway point of their journey to rescue Beagan the black bear. Before it was all over, one of the three would find freedom... one would enter manhood... and one would die.

Artful Weekend

2009-01-18T00:06:00.006-05:00

With it being so cold outside, and a tattoo cancellation opening up my schedule, I spend the day creating art.

It's been awhile since I did any of my surreal computer stuff, but I knocked out some of it today:

"Swoar To The Light"

I've also been trying to learn to use Poser 7 - not an easy task. These three were created with a combination of Poser and Photoshop:

"Skeleton Drummer"

"Hellish"

"Cross Skeleton"

Lastly, there's always good old fashioned pencil:

"Predator Going Invisible"

Danger Blog

2008-12-21T16:53:00.002-05:00

I'm pretty sure this is the first blog I've written while driving. I'm on my way to Indianapolis to pick Lindsey up from the airport. Holy cow, I'd forgotten how cold zero degrees is! At first my car didn't even respond to the turn of my key. It finally began to slowly turn before - much to my relief - actually starting.

Broken trees are everywhere, and a deadly cold gray has enveloped Fort Wayne. Craig windham on NPR just reminded me that this is the first day of winter. Along interstate 69, foot-thick trees look like snapped toothpicks, the gods of the earth appearing to bow in submission to the gods of the air.

Concrete bridges and roads merge with nature, creating a monotone world, save for the occasional green road sign or blue mile marker.

Gusts of wind have their way with me, batting me from side to side as if I were a toy between feline paws. I question the wisdom of continuing to type on this phone with my left thumb, but disregard the thought. My sense of self-preservation has been dulled by thirty months of regret.

Now blowing snow creates the illusion of driving in fog. The gray remains constant, yet the visible world shrinks to just a few dozen yards in every direction.

This long stretch of higway always reminds me of the drive from Cheyenne to Denver. Much of the scenery is nearly identical, though the absence of the Rocky Mountains to my right reminds me I am far from home. I wonder if home is the right word? A case could be made both for and against.

The sun is nowhere to be seen, though the darkening gray tells me it is setting. I come to the realization that I have forgotten my glasses. The drive back tonight will be more difficult because of it.

Three motels, two gas stations, and a McDonald's populate the exit leading to a tiny rural town, nameless in it's obscurity. A sign tells me I am 88 miles from Indy.

I stop typing for several minutes to consider the value - or lack thereof - of writing. It is an inherently selfish act. Oh, maybe not all forms, but certainly this essay. I also realize that my stream-of-consciousness narrative seems to possess an artificially highbrow tone, a voice I dislike reading. Even the self-serving blog has lost its luster.

Oh look, more golden arches ahead... I think I will use their facilities...

Normally I Like Ice

2008-12-21T11:21:00.003-05:00

Thursday night we were told to expect a pretty brutal ice storm. I awoke Friday morning to a beautiful sight - snow on the ground, and everything covered in a half inch of ice.

But when I looked out another window, I saw that my trees had all been devastated by the extra weight.

Last night, the wind kicked up and even more limbs have been breaking. It's pretty sad watching my only serene place being injured and disfigured like this. So much so that I'm tempted to go out and babysit what remains, keeping watch over the few branches left unbroken. But it's 1°F outside. And were I to act on instinct, I imagine I'd eventually be found like good ol' Jack Torrance...

Breaking The 4-Month Silence

2008-12-14T22:10:00.012-05:00

The most articulate complaint I've received about my failure to blog these last four months has been, "Do you really want 'Golden Poop' to be your blog's swan song?". The short answer is a horrified "No!".

However, other than art and music, there has been little to fill anybody in on.

Regarding art stuff, developing my skills as a tattoo designer and artist has been an amazing challenge this year. Just last week, I was approached with a request to re-create this angel "pretty much as-is, only without the flower, and put her hand in water and have it coming up around her."

I flatly refused. I don't want to be responsible for any more crappy jail-looking tattoos than already exist in the world.

With the negotiated agreement that I could do a redesign as long as the elements all remained the same, I came up with this:

Somewhere along the line I picked up a nickname of "The Tumor Doodler" by some at work. Can't imagine why, unless it's that my cubicle usually looks something like this:

Even since I snapped this photo, my style changed again. You see, I recently discovered the beauty and strength of thick lines (thanks to a new friend who does AMAZING tattoo work). Here's what my legal pad sketches have looked like lately:

Lest you think I only draw tumor-like blobs, I am actually very busy trying to develop a number of art styles. Unfortunately, it feels like I'm going in too many directions at once. But at least I'm creating - there have been many seasons in my life during which I stifled that flow.

And speaking of creative ventures, I made another Christmas song submission (the same contest for which I created "Christmas For A Dragon") last year. I'm a better engineer now, and there were fewer entries this time. However, there are enough great ones to prevent me from thinking I'll be even close to the second-place level I hit last year. (And truth be told, I wrote and recorded it in the two days before it was due, so it's pretty much my own fault.)

Anyway, it's as done as it's going to be. Click the link to hear "Christmas Economy A.D.D.".

That's about all for now. ...And I'll try to make the next four months a little more interesting.

Golden Poop

2008-08-08T09:12:00.002-04:00

Words fail me. I took this photo the other day in (where else?)... a Wal-Mart parking lot.

Mystery Bug

2008-08-01T07:17:00.003-04:00

So the other night, I happened to see on my patio door a minor monstrosity of the entomological world. I hoped it would not depart before I had the chance to get a picture. This is the best I could do at night on short notice:

At the risk of sounding like a moron, does anybody know what this is?

Just asking the question reminds me of my first day's work at Unicover Corporation. I arrived early and asked my boss if he'd seen the herd of odd-looking goats grazing on a nearby property. He said he was busy, and told me to ask him again during the morning department meeting. It was only a few minutes later when his office was full of people that the question elicited a torrent of laughter. Being brand new to Wyoming, I was not familiar with the appearance of antelope.

Day Tripper

2008-07-20T22:51:00.009-04:00

A lot of people have been writing and calling, wondering why they can't reach me. There's a number of reasons, but it's mostly because I am on the phone and emailing nine or ten hours a day, and I'm understandably not very motivated to do more of it when I get home. Other reasons include procrastination and just plain ol' not knowing what to say.

As for not updating my blog much, I just kinda figure people aren't interested in hearing my day to day events unless I make it humorous. And sometimes that takes a lot of work.

But to prove I'm not dead, here is a blog entry.

Today I took a quick trip up to the Shedd Aquarium in Chicago. Though grossly overcrowded, its well designed and full of a diversity of creatures. I took over a hundred photos, and here's a few random samples:

Shedd Aquarium and Chicago skyline on Lake Michigan. This is a panorama of three photos I put together in Photoshop. Not quite as good as the guy in Iran who added the extra missile, but you get the idea.

A 14-foot anaconda. I was told by an employee it's very rare to get a picture of her face, so that was nice.

Water. It's cool.

I'd never heard of a Blue Iguana. That's not redeye from the camera - it's really like that.

This bird has really big feet.

I like Bottlenose Dolphins better than Pacific White-sided Dolphins. But this guy is cute.

Beluga whale. Sort of like if an Orca and a Slug mated and had an albino child.

The starfish at Sea World are constantly picked up and show practically no signs of life. The starfish at Shedd are never handled, and are very active. I was impressed.

This is a weird thing that I don't know the name of.

The deadly and huge Komodo Dragon. Ten feet long, runs 12 mph, and kills you with even a minor bite because of its bacteria-laden saliva.

This is a fish. I think it might be related to Ellen DeGeneres.

And that's my girlfriend Lindsey, and my buddy Brian in the background looking gravely concerned about the earth's oceans. Or something.

Okay, so that's all for now. Sorry I don't return calls and emails.

Arty Art Art

2008-05-11T23:24:00.003-04:00

"Banana Forest Siren"

"Blood Bath"

"Trek Orion"

"Burro Head Desert"

"One Day My Head Asplode"

"Midget Pilgrimage"

"Funeral Pyre"

Why Doesn't Lemonade Get Cold Faster?

2008-05-11T10:29:00.005-04:00

Okay, so maybe it's my imagination, but it always seems that a glass of ice water gets colder more quickly than a glass of lemonade with ice. Has anybody else encountered this?

I've searched the internet for explanation, but can find no mention of it. Does it have to do with viscosity? Acidity? Is there a resistance to cold conductivity offered by lemon pulp? It certainly doesn't resist electrical current, since a lemon can generate 1 volt by simply inserting a copper penny and zinc-coated nail into it.

In all seriousness, this bugs me every time I'm at a restaurant waiting for my glass of lemonade to get cold enough to be refreshing.

Does my blog have readers who are physicists? Botanists? Viscositologists? Scientists with specialties in citral conductivity or master's degrees in the studies of various liquids? I sure hope so.

I have also considered the possibility that this is simply a psychological phenomenon. Maybe whatever triggers my brain to eschew my regular favorite beverage of ice water and instead crave the liquified fruit of the lemon tree also spurs me to impatience.

(Yes, I am well aware that the previous paragraph reeks of supercillious length and elements throughout. But I thought it wise to write to the audience of my desired - at least for the time being - demographic, as the cynosure of my directed question will tend to be the product of higher education... articulate and possibly verbose.

So how about it, people? If you wear a white lab coat to work, I'd like your input.

When Will It End?

2008-05-07T00:26:00.003-04:00

Ugh. I just checked the news, and it looks like Hillary has taken Indiana. That means the Democratic party's nominating process will continue on and on and on into the summer... Sigh. I just want to wake up in January with a new president, so I can then enjoy three years of freedom from presidential campaigning.

Spring Is Upon Me

2008-05-06T10:12:00.002-04:00

Every morning, I wake up to the view outside of my bedroom's sliding glass door. My backyard is a sanctuary of sorts, whether covered in snow, or grass and trees hibernating in the cold of winter. But in the last week, everything has exploded with spring life.

Just the other day, varicolored pink blooms erupted from two anonymous trees. (I'd appreciate any help you could offer in identifying them.)

And my apple tree, which produced just one apple last year, is covered in promises of more this year. We'll see what the hordes of birds allow.

Lastly, I recently consolidated my office, recording studio, and art design area into one room. With the single window overlooking the street, I thought I wouldn't get much of a view. But fortunately, there have been daily visitors, like this guy here:

That's all for now. Gotta get to work - late shift today.

More Weirdness

2008-04-27T23:05:00.003-04:00

"Settled For Second"

"Beyond Reach"

"Berserker"

"Dance Party"

"Collision Memorium"

"Dog's Attention"

"Hazel Storm"

"Whale Songs"

"Mob Fox"

More White On Black

2008-04-26T23:40:00.003-04:00

Even with all the full-color art I've been doing, I don't want to neglect my white on black studies. I must admit, however, that skulls are getting old.

So tonight after work (instead of performing the first lawn-mowing of the year, though it be desperately needed), I figured I'd go for something a bit more complex.

I created a celtic knot, and then cut a stencil for it into acetate. A quick white spray over the black shirt gave me my basic shape, and then I went to town on it. Though it's far from done, I finally gave up from exhaustion and silently declared it finished - it's been a LONG week.

Another Few More

2008-04-25T07:51:00.004-04:00

"Solar Executioner"

"Blue Man, Red Man"

"Birth Of Venom"

"Temecula Sneaker"

A Few More

2008-04-23T15:35:00.003-04:00

"Beneath The Surface"

"Snake Diver"

"Turbulent Sunset"

A review of 1977's "Rock 'N Roll"

2008-04-21T08:22:00.002-04:00

I’ve been anxiously awaiting the release of 1977’s album “Rock ‘N Roll” since it was announced in a viral MySpace marketing campaign months ago.

Now, after first listen, I can say that I have not been disappointed at all.

WIth 1977’s approach – a 70’s-era KISS soundalike whose appearance is shrouded in mystery for the time being – a good first impression is difficult to make. After all, a huge part of the ‘70’s KISS fan’s listening experience was visual: examining the supernaturally powerful cover artwork and poring over the merchandise insert. Here, we having nothing but silhouette. With no visuals to steal a fan’s soul and capture his or her imagination, there is only the music to examine.

Fortunately, the music wonderfully captures KISS’ dynamo from the late 1970’s. The record gives listeners the impression that they’re hearing previously unreleased material, songs seemingly locked in the KISS vault these past thirty years.

From beginning to end, one hears KISS-style guitar riffs, chord progressions, and guitar licks. Many of which are note for note from KISS songs, but somehow the band manages to avoid any direct rip-offs. Obvious momentary borrowings from one KISS song seamlessly mesh into other musical parts, making the songs stand well on their own. As the saying goes, “To steal from one is plagiarism. To steal from many is research.”

And this band has clearly done their research. The 1970’s KISS style has been examined thoroughly, making the strongest aspects of the album by far the songwriting and lyrics.

Lyrically, this is very much a KISS record: simple messages given with clever turns of phrase and innuendo, followed by anthemic choruses of the need for rock and roll to be shared by all. Easily-remembered words shaped by simple and catchy vocal melodies mean that – lIke all the great songs from this era – they grow on you over time. “Gladiator” and “Blast Off” are already classics in my mind after having heard the clips dozens of times over the last few months.

The album is mastered nice and loud, as it should be, and mixed like a KISS record: every instrument can be heard and sits in its own sonic space. A really high note is that the lead guitar player wonderfully captures Ace Frehley’s style, copping licks across the entire album, yet composing original solos, just as Ace did himself throughout those first seven years or so.

As for weaknesses, there aren’t many. Each of songs are clearly written with the styles of Gene, Paul, Peter, and Ace. And as I’ve said, they’ve been masterfully crafted. But while the Gene vocal style is spot-on, and the Ace isn’t bad, Peter’s thick throaty raspiness is absent, as is the operatic power of the signature Stanley tone.

And the sound of record clicks and pops at the beginning and end of each song are a nice remembrance of the KISS record experience, but they become predictable as the same sample is played again and again.

The most glaring chink of this album’s armor are the drums. Nowhere is the frantic R&B- and jazz-influenced drumming of Peter Criss, overflowing with fills and spontaneous creativity.

In spite of these few imperfections, the record accomplishes most of what it sets out to do: Begin to carve out a niche for a KISS tribute band that is like no other – not merely a re-creation, but a value-added addition to KISStory. All in all, it is well worth the download price of $7.70 (A nice touch, since $19.77 would have been excessive, even if they’d released a double album with fiery gatefold!).

And this first foray now begs the question: “Will the band’s visuals live up to the high standards set by “Rock ‘N Roll”, the album?”

I happen to know for a fact that they will.

But that is an unmasking yet future. For now there is only “Rock ‘N Roll”. So I’m gonna go listen to my new record again.

1977's "Rock 'N Roll" is available for purchase via Snocap download at the band's web site and their MySpace page. On a Macintosh, I had some difficulty downloading directly from the purchase window, but the issue was quickly resolved by going to Snocap's web site and downloading it from my account window.

This Week's Art

2008-04-19T18:29:00.003-04:00

"Cutter's Prayer"

"Oceanic Encroachment"

"Dance Of Veils"

"Crash"

"Adulterous Shame"

"Bluanacon Dragon"

They Do Get Weirder

2008-04-13T08:21:00.007-04:00

"Shoreline"

"Joyous Spieldoh"

"Rage Of Transformation"

"Hawkman"

"Super Chicken Warfare"

"Fish Pizza"

"Ethiopian Woman And Minotaur Flee Skunk"

And by request from Washington...

"LQ (Seemed Like) Forever"

Please Fill Out My Art Survey

2008-04-09T11:32:00.006-04:00

In the last couple days, I've had four requests for prints of various art pieces. It would take a major cash outlay to get this up and running if I have them printed and possibly framed, so I'd like to see if there's a market outside of these four folks.

And so, here's a quick survey - please feel free to post your answers as comments, or directly to me via email at "ron at ron daniel dot com".

1) I think the idea of selling these is:
a) Ludicrous. Your art is all crap.
b) Good. I mean, I wouldn't buy them, but somebody might.
c) Great! I'd like to buy at least one.
d) Awesome! I can already think of several I want.
e) Unbelievable! I'll buy everything you sell! I'd even buy your old toothbrush on ebay!

2) I would be most likely to purchase from the following FOUR titles:
(View these titles on one page by clicking on this sentence.)
a) "Rescue Me"
b) "Lifesaving Death"
c) "Terrible Dreams"
d) "Compassion In Creation"
e) "Flower Commander"
f) "Dragon And Maiden"
g) "Curse Of Thorns"
h) "Ache Of Space"
i) "Spirit Of Stadver Flight"
j) "Parking Atop The World"
k) "Lincoln Assassination"
l) "The Hanging Of Judas"
m) "Dirty Aquarium"
n) "Dragon Finds Evil Is Easy"
o) "Hijabic Shame"
p) "Farmer Elblew Hunts Rats"
q) "Asleo's Torment"
r) "Monroe Diocese"
s) other: ___________________

3) I would be most likely to want them available in:
a) 8" x 10"
b) 12" x 18"
c) 18" x 24"
d) 24" x 36"

4) I'd want you to make them available as:
a) Framed signed art
b) Unframed posters
c) Give me a choice

More O' Dat Art Stuff

2008-04-09T08:13:00.003-04:00

"Amorous Dragons"

"Rescue Me"

"Arctic Chiroptera"

"Electric Bluff"

More Weird Art

2008-04-07T21:53:00.006-04:00

"Lifesaving Death"

"Terrible Dreams"

"Compassion In Creation"

"Flower Commander"

"Dragon And Maiden"

"Curse Of Thorns"

"Questionable Grooming"

"Danse Macabre"

More Pours Forth

2008-04-05T08:06:00.004-04:00

"Ache Of Space"

"Vesuvius Cavendish"

"Asleo's Torment"

"Hijabic Shame"

"Monroe Diocese"

I Am Addicted

2008-04-01T21:58:00.007-04:00

I cannot stop. Must continue.

"Spirit Of Stadver Flight"

"Broncop Mesh"

"Parking Atop The World"

"Onion Flag Band Banned"

"Angry Private Stock"

"Insect Shaman"

"Lincoln Assassination"

"The Hanging Of Judas"

Just Like Home, Part 2

2008-04-01T20:25:00.004-04:00

You might recall that a few months ago, a Bob Evans restaurant welcomed me with this invitation to clean the bathroom myself:

Well, this afternoon, Red Robin apparently wanted me to fix something:

If I'd known what was broken, I probably would have obliged...

Where Do These Come From?

2008-03-30T09:00:00.010-04:00

I'm producing art at a breakneck pace now. it's almost as if I am a dam attempting to hold back the flood by releasing controlled overspill.

I conceived of this while brushing my teeth this morning. I call it "Extreme Jeans".

And the obligatory close-up:

This one, on the other hand, describes the combined turmoil of two unrelated land mammals. It's called "Jesse Llama".

And the close-up for detail:

And this was a result of what I can only describe as comedic terror. It's called "Penguin Ballerina At Gunpoint".

Fun with oranges in "Flaming Citrus Fox":

And this is "Dirty Aquarium", containing at least 15 different species of marine life:

Also, you should never start a book in the middle if you want to know what hedge lions are. This is "Hedge Lion Delivery".

And a hint that other hedge creatures exist:

Lastly, this pictures what every moral artist struggles with. It's entitled "Dragon Finds Evil Is Easy".

And the close-up:

Negative Space

2008-03-27T00:05:00.003-04:00

I've also been getting interested in starting to work with white on black. To my recollection, this is the first time I've done this. These are skulls airbrushed on black t-shirts.

Now, before somebody gets all Pharisaical on me again, keep in mind that God created the skull. It's not evil - it's the protective helmet He made for our brains and eyes. I happen to think it's a testimony of His creativity and brilliance.

Gator Command

2008-03-26T23:26:00.002-04:00

In case my titles don't make sense, they're loosely based on a mixture of my source material, and what I end up with.

This one's "Gator Command".

Outstanding In His Field

2008-03-25T23:27:00.003-04:00

More weird art from Ron. This one's called "Farmer Elblew Hunts Rats".

And some detail:

Red Bull

2008-03-23T22:07:00.002-04:00

I've never drunk a Red Bull, but now I've created one. Here's my latest original art piece. I've been doing a ton with art lately, but all that news will have to wait for a more opportune time.

And here's some detail:

Snow Way Today

2008-02-27T16:02:00.002-05:00

It's really snowy here...

I have no desire to go out in that. But I know somebody who does...

Weather Memories

2008-02-18T09:03:00.006-05:00

At this moment, giant snowflakes are being blown into my backyard from the west. But the angle of the wind combined with the shape of my backyard and height of its fence are creating a vortex. It's like watching a slow-spinning transparent tornado of snow the exact width and shape of the yard. At the back fence, it's heading east, at the glass door it's going west. I really wish I owned a video camera right now.

Most of us have weather memories. My first was walking up the hill to school in 3rd grade, turning around and seeing crepuscular rays streaming out from billowing cumulus clouds. It looked just like a painting at my Godparents' house depicting Jesus' rapture of the church. I stood there for several minutes waiting to be caught up in the air. But when nothing happened, I eventually turned around and finished the trek to school.

Then there was the time in Cheyenne I was awakened from an afternoon nap by the sound of sirens. My curiosity piqued as the proverbial cat, I walked outside rather than hide in the basement as the authorities advise. I looked up to see the sky dark with clouds looking like sharp black stucco. Directly above me was circular motion - quick and fascinating. From my vantage point, I could not see what most of the rest of the panicked city was witnessing: a large funnel cloud descending and ascending. Its evil tease was frightening enough that it made the front page of the newspaper the next morning.

There was also a day in the church office building when Pete and I watched a snowstorm advance upon us from a quarter mile away. Like a curtain of dense falling snow, the wall moved towards us at maybe 10 or 15 miles an hour. When it finally enveloped us, I knew I'd just had an unforgettable experience with a good friend.

And once in Estes Park, I remember being in a car, waiting at a stoplight as crowds of tourists assembled at each street corner waiting for their turn to cross. From over the mountain came a similar curtain, but this time it was a torrential rain. I watched it approach from half a block away. My mischievous nature delighted in the anticipation of watching it hit the first gaggle of pedestrians. When the moment arrived, I was not disappointed. They scurried like ants from the flood of a garden hose.

I've never seen the northern lights or watched 40-foot waves generated by winter storms coming into Waimea Bay. But I hope to someday.

So... what weather memories do you have?

Artful Dodger

2008-02-13T00:11:00.002-05:00

I've been creating a lot of art of late.

And it has been very literally of late. Usually in the wee hours of the morning, when I should be sleeping. But a person's gotta take free time when they can find it, right?

Most people know I am an incessant sketcher of random biomorphic oddities - like this drawing entitled "Run Away". (One of my coworkers suggested it be called "Ziggy Breakdancing".)

In addition, I recently picked up a "tribal" black and white style, producing such varied pieces as...

..."Great White Stalker",

..."Scorpion Tree",

..."Eyes in the Jungle", and...

..."Tribal Phoenix".

And today I was delighted to discover that (on his third attempt) the UPS man had finally delivered my new Wacom Intuos tablet. I've been craving one of these for years - ever since I discovered a designer I admire greatly uses one daily.

Sure enough, the thing wasn't two minutes out of the box before I began creating. (I haven't even loaded the control software yet. I bet that does cool stuff, but I was immediately distracted.)

My first tablet creation is entitled "Horses and Dragons".

It's hard to appreciate it all shrunken down like this. In reality, it's 300 dpi at 8" x 10". Here's a closer look:

Anyway, there's a glimpse into what's been keeping me from responding to emails (and from doing the dishes). I don't know how other people survive without creating art, photography, music, and writing, but I would certainly explode if I didn't.

Anagram I Am

2008-01-27T21:57:00.000-05:00

Okay, so maybe anagrams are a little "old school" compared with some of the more exciting time wasters to be found on the internet. But I think they can be a little revealing as well. Today, I rearranged the letters in "Ron Daniel" and found enough combinations to warrant a top ten list. Feel free to do the same for yourself and post them in the comments. (Or email them to me, if they're personal or embarassing.)

1) "RAD Online" - This could be a commentary on my cool internet presence, or simply say that I'm on the web too much. (RAD happens to be my initials.)

2) "Alone Rind" - I think this is a great way to describe me when I'm having a pity party about 99% of the people from my life less than two years ago completely abandoning me. I'm like an orange peel thrown in the trash.

3) "Din Loaner" - A great description of my job selling loud PA equipment, some of which mysteriously gets returned right after the customer's big show.

4) "A Rod Linen" - Just reminds me that every time Lindsey comes over, she tells me I need to buy curtains. Most of my windows are bare.

5) "Noel I Darn" - Most people know that I don't like Christmas very much, for a lot of reasons.

6) "Liar No End" - After I left the ministry, some people delighted in trashing my character, portraying me as devoid of any truthfulness.

7) "An ID Loaner" - This doesn't really mean anything. But it helps fill up the list.

8) "Ran Deli? No." - Proof that I've never owned a restaurant.

9) "Ron Denial" - Until this very moment, I never realized you can swap the first and last vowels of "Daniel" to form "denial." And this also reminded me that my first stage name was "Ronny Devious".

10) "Road Linen" - You know how moms are supposed to say "Always wear clean underwear in case you're in a car accident"? Mine never did. Fortunately, so far no paramedic has ever seen my unmentionables.

More Hawk Photos

2008-01-27T10:11:00.000-05:00

Bejeweled Mystery

2008-01-27T09:50:00.000-05:00

Here's a picture I snapped last night. Not Photoshopped (other than crop and resize). Any guesses as to its identification?

Charge It

2008-01-20T15:36:00.000-05:00

In spite of the loss, still proud to be a San Diego native. I just hope New York kicks the Patriots' butts on Feb. 3rd.

Just Like Home

2007-12-13T13:06:00.001-05:00

Until I moved to Fort Wayne, I'd never heard of Bob Evans. When my sister and I were moving me in last year, we saw a few of their plain buildings and signs and assumed it was an insurance company.

As it turns out, it's a chain of 579 restaurants scattered around the eastern half of the United States (they also own Mimis Cafe).

Based on their commercials, I've had the impression that it's one of those "family restaurant for old people" kind of places, like Cracker Barrel. As a result, I've never had any interest in going.

Well, the other night driving home from Indianapolis, I figured, "Why not give it a try?" All my presuppositions were right. The menu was exactly what I expected that the over-55 crowd wants - mashed potatoes and gravy, just like you get at home.

But what I didn't expect was for the home-like atmosphere to permeate into the rest rooms. Apparently, at Bob Evans they expect you to clean the bathroom, just like you do at home. They even leave the supplies in there for you...

No one says "clean it yourself" like Bob Evans.

Let The Stoning Begin...

2007-12-09T00:58:00.000-05:00

Alrighty folks... My tongue is planted firmly in my cheek, and I am ready to withstand any and all assaults from humorless boneheads. As promised (in a recently deleted blog entry), "Christmas For A Dragon" is now available for your listening... um... pleasure?

It really amazes me how many dragons in Santa hats can be found on the internet

The song is on my MySpace music page, or download the MP3 here.

I engineered, mixed, mastered, produced, sang, and played drums. My buddy Arend wrote the music and lyrics, played piano and guitar, and did a bit of singing as well. And our friend Nate played bass. No, this isn't what I'm doing for music now - it's just a Christmas song contest entry.

And on an equally irreverential Christmas note, here are 167 photos of children being scared to death by department store Santas. There are some really creepy ones in there...

Unearthing The Princess

2007-12-01T22:57:00.000-05:00

No, I still haven't posted "Christmas For A Dragon"...

...but I was thinking that there are quite a few songs floating around the studio here that may never be finished for a variety of reasons. Songs on paper, some in the PDA, many recorded in scratch tracks, and lots in various stages of production.

Songwriters labor over these small creations, only to leave most of them forgotten. Like long-abandoned monuments, some represent a past perspective, others point to a future which will never be. Others don't seem genuine and simply vanish. For most of us, a lot of what we write is quite frankly a few good ideas sandwiched in between really bad parts.

Anyway, I uncovered one searching the hard drives the other day, and figured that it's probably about as far along as I'll ever take it, at least for a good long time. It's presentable enough as a rough demo, and since I get prodded for new music somewhat regularly, I figured this would appease for the time being.

"Princess" is posted on both of my MySpace profiles. Feel free to check it out.

(Oh, and by coincidence, it does mention a dragon. The dragon of time.)

Sloths And Birds

2007-11-11T13:03:00.000-05:00

It's a rainy day, and the last of the leaves are falling. Soaked, they stick flatly to the deck and patio, waiting for drier days to be gathered into piles.

I was feeling a bit under the weather today, so I stayed home wrapped in a blanket and sitting on the couch watching Enterprise reruns on DVD (thanks PJW!). Probably just two long workweeks catching up with me, along with a music project that has been taking up my late nights. (More on that in the next few weeks.)

Normally my workaholic nature is hesitant to see any benefit to laziness and couch sitting, much less extol its virtues. But this morning I was rewarded for my aforementioned slothfulness, with a third visit from my mammoth-winged friend. Fortunately, my camera happened to be within arm's length this time.

Near as I can tell, this is either a Sharp-shinned Hawk or Cooper's Hawk

I guess this is as good an opportunity as ever to share another photo as well. While it's a more frequent resident, the elusive Cardinal rarely provides photo ops, so this shot from a couple weeks ago is as good as I've gotten so far:

Yeah, I know it's starting to sound like my once-eventful life has been reduced to backyard ornithological pursuits, but there just hasn't been much to report. The obligation to update readers does exist, however, as evidenced in a recent email:

"Hey Ron, you’re not like dead or anything are you? ...you haven’t been updating your blog and that is a little unsettling. I just don’t want it to be one of those things where the old lady dies on her couch and nobody finds her for a year, only in this case you would be the old lady."

Nope, not dead, just that life is busy yet uneventful... which is fine. I think the most out of the ordinary thing so far was discovering that the heat in my new house hadn't been working. I just assumed that some of the rooms didn't have the same efficiency of circulation that the others did. But the other night when I got home and the interior temperature was in the 50's, I figured I'd better check the furnace. Everything seemed to work fine, but no fire. One day and eighty dollars later, the heating guy told me I had a dirty pilot. I remember thinking he needed a bath the last time I flew into Denver International Airport, but didn't think it was any of my business. With hindsight, I should have intervened.

Like I said, not all that interesting. Heck, my parents' lives have more to report. My mom moved to Denver, my dad's teaching a Bible study... definitely more first-hand activity in their lives than mine. I could probably wow you with my adventures of getting ZZ Top some new hard drives or Will Smith some software for his studio, but yeah, it's hard to spice that stuff up.

So there you have it. I'm not dead, but have been pretty cold. And if you searched for me today, you would probably find me motionless on the couch. Don't worry... I'm just trying to keep from scaring away the birds.

Good News Day

2007-10-10T12:44:00.000-04:00

I'm a big fan of good news, especially when it's MINE. :)

The dentist tells me that the score is still Ron: 32, Cavities: 0.

(In the interest of fair play, I should clarify that I technically have 28 teeth, but the wisdom teeth that were yanked 20 years ago remain cavity-free to this day.)

Today's mail brought two forms of good news as well. After dealing with the mistake of a nasty "you owe us $49" letter from my apartment complex, today I received a refund check for $151.

Plus, I finally got notification that the issue with my homeowner's insurance policy (which should have been cancelled a year ago but wasn't) is finally resolved.

And just now for the second time (coincidentally, both times when I was blogging), a hawk showed up in my backyard. I was unfortunately too slow to catch a photo, but I'm still counting it as a good thing. That's four so far, and the day's not even half over. This is a good trend. I hope it continues.

Hot Morning Drive

2007-09-29T19:57:00.000-04:00

Some days, the drive to work is more exciting than others...

Likes To Hear Himself Talk

2007-09-25T23:36:00.000-04:00

I actually had a bit of time in the studio this evening, and thought I'd do something productive with the new voiceover setup I recently installed.

For years now, I've talked about doing an audio Bible - a narration of the Scriptures with more emotion and understanding than most of the "Bible on Cassette" versions out there. Well, I can't say that I'm committing to do the entire Bible, but I did do one of the Bible's 1,189 chapters tonight - Philippians chapter one. I'll at least finish the other three chapters of this book as time permits, and then see where we go from there.

You can check it out on my Bible study page.

Dagwood Would Be Proud

2007-09-24T16:09:00.000-04:00

I don't even know what to say about the burgers at Kaysans 5th Down in Fort Wayne...

I Must Warn Them All

2007-09-23T00:57:00.000-04:00

A cult classic has been made, and the beauty of it is that it's in theaters NOW. You can still see it before it beats a rapid retreat to Wal-Mart's five-dollar DVD bin! From one of these theaters I have just returned and have no choice but to blog until I cannot blog any longer, for this movie has deeply impacted me.

No, this film not the next "Napoleon Dynamite." It is more like the next "Attack of the Killer Tomatoes." And I guarantee that you will regret not paying money to see this on the big screen. Not since "Ator the FIghting Eagle" have I seen a movie so incredibly bad.

The film is entitled "Dragon-Wars," (or "D-war") and preferrably should be seen in a crowded theater with lots of friends.

The motion picture company Freestyle Releasing did not screen "Dragon Wars" for critics in the U.S. before it opened, and it's no wonder. It is so poorly written, atrociously acted, and horribly edited that only a trailer full of awesome special effects could draw people in. (You can check this trailer out at the movie's official site.)

The poverty of writing is evident from the first lines delivered. Jason Behr (from TV's "Roswell"), plays a CNN-ish news reporter who begins by delivering "I'm thinking"-style voiceovers while sitting and staring at his computer screen. "What about this breaking news story seems so familiar? I can't shake this feeling that it must have something to do with the story that mysterious old man told me so many years ago..."

And then we go from bad dialogue to even worse flashbacks. Make no mistake: these are no ORDINARY flashbacks. They are MULTILAYERED flashbacks! Seriously, at several points there is a flashback inside of a flashback inside of a flashback inside of a flashback. Don't believe me? Near the beginning of the movie, Ethan is thinking back to his childhood when the man in the museum told him a story from Korea in the 1500's, and there is liberal usage of flashbacks DURING the ancient Korea scenes!

There are also a number of scenes in which English subtitles are used as the ancient mystic Koreans are speaking. But the language is absolute gibberish. Even when proper names for people and the serpents are used, there is no hint of those words appearing in the spoken sentences.

The editing is so unbelievable in this movie that suddenly soldiers will be lying dead for no reason, with burning helicopter carcasses on either side of them. At one point, the editor evidently just gave up on the movie entirely and said, "I can't watch this trash anymore. I quit." Amanda Brooks (who plays the lead female role of Sarah Daniels (who is carrying a mystical power that evil forces wish to use to help turn a monstrous serpent into an even more powerful dragon (this is my literary version of nested flashbacks (get it?)))) - is standing on a beach talking to Ethan when suddenly the scene cuts to an FBI planning room. But her voice continues on, until it's inexplicably cut off mid-sentence. A classic blunder worthy of local low-budget newscast (wow, I really miss watching Cheyenne's CBS NewsChannel 5).

It would be a good thing if the editor did in fact walk out, because they couldn't have been paying him much. Nearly every penny of the production must have been put into the special effects, which most times are relatively stunning for the quality of motion picture D-War is. But in keeping with the make-fun-able nature of this movie, most of the effects scenes are laughbably derivative of "Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones" and 1998's "Godzilla". Not to worry - there are plenty of silly effects as well, including a pitiful "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" nod to "old martial arts expert runs across the top of the water" shot.

Whatever the effects budget was, they clearly had no money to hire talented actors. Lines are delivered so badly, I seriously thought it might be a Christian movie. Be offended at that statement if you will, but let's face it - most Christian movies produced, from "Left Behind" to the recent "One Night With The King," has featured acting on par with what you might hear in a first-year high school drama class production.

The really sad thing is that there is a great talent hidden in this movie. Holmes Osborne, who played Guy Patterson's dad in one of my favorite movies of all time, "That Thing You Do," appears as a hypnotherapist. For no apparant reason, Ethan the reporter convinces Sarah that she needs to go see this man to help interpret the visions she's been having so they can figure out what's going on. Never mind that anytime she stays in one place for more than ten minutes, the giant snake appears and tries to eat her. With electrodes strapped to her head, Sarah begins to see visions of the Korean city being attacked during her previous life. She begins to levitate above the couch with blue smokey lighting circling about her. The hypnotherapist doesn't seem surprised at this, but does rush to unplug the extension cord from the brainwave measuring machine.

Best movie dad ever:
"Go on off then and bang on your bongo drums as long as you like."

The only other notable actor in D-War is Chris Mulkey. You've never heard of him, but trust me, you've seen him in everything. As the head FBI agent on the case (the case being, "Why does a giant snake seem to be appearing around New York, doing things like eating five elephants and smashing up a hospital?"), somehow figures out that the armies of reptiles and thousands of armored Dungeons and Dragons-looking guys trashing New York City are really only looking for Sarah Daniels, so if he kills her, the problem will be solved - at least for the next 500 years until another reincarnation happens and they all appear again. His attempt at killing poor Sarah is so wretchedly executed that you'd think he didn't learn a thing from appearing in all those episodes of "CHiPs", "CSI", "M*A*S*H", "Walker, Texas Ranger", "Magnum, P.I.", and "Murder, She Wrote". Interestingly, he shoots Ethan at point blank range, but after the rational FBI agent kills Chris, Ethan seems completely fine, with no hint of injury for the rest of the movie.

Another grossly underfunded line-item in the budget was the pool from which they would pay the movie's extras. When New York City is being attacked, and her citizens are running screaming down the middle of the street (behavior I've never understood in any movie, I mean for goodness' sake, get into a building and hide, you idiots!), there are never more than 20 of them.

If you get a chance to see D-War, please take the time to let me know your favorite blunders and idiotic moments. Here are some of my favorites that I haven't already mentioned:

1) There is no consistency of scale to the creatures in the movie. For example, this snake's head is nearly as big as the helipad atop the building:

But a few scenes before, it fit neatly into a hospital hallway while pursuing poor Sarah Daniels.

2) A classic line in the movie is delivered when the snake's massive body is coiled around this building and rapidly slithering to the top. Seeing this, a policeman calls for all cars to come to the vicinity because "there is a situation developing here."

3) Sarah suddenly gets weird at the gym and goes home to surround herself with all sorts of Korean letters written on parchment hung on the walls. "These are the only things protecting me," she claims, but then her roommate easily convinces her to go out on the town after getting some rest.

4) A big part of the storyline is that Sarah's internal whatchamacallit will become active for the serpent to eat on the day of her 20th birthday. So she's 19, right? She and the roommate have no trouble at all finding a restaurant where they're both casually drinking beers.

5) The two FBI agents are casually driving through New York City in the middle of Dragons vs. Man World War III, and coincidentally happen upon Ethan and Sarah. "Ms. Daniels, you need to get in the car."

6) Neither driver of the two cars that accidentally plow into the Evil General seem to be affected by the fact that they just flattened a pedestrian.

7) Sarah calls an ambulance because she thinks she's having some kind of heart attack, and then inexplicably ends up in a locked hospital room with a police guard. Before she knows it, she's being assaulted by hospital workers as if she's a crazy woman, and locked in solitary confinement.

8) Not knowing any of this, Sarah's roommate attempts to visit her in the hospital after visiting hours are over. Turned away by the nurse, she goes home to pack Sarah a suitcase of clothes as if she's going on vacation for a couple weeks.

9) While packing, the roommate and her boyfriend are set upon by the giant snake. Althought the snake seems to be able to sense Sarah's location at all times, he apparently needed to check her home address first. (Also, Sarah's house is pretty awesome for a 19-year-old living alone in a big city.)

10) Ethan goes to the hospital to see Sarah (who he's never met), and the nurse on duty says she's in quarantine. In a clear violation of HIPAA privacy rules, the nurse responds to Ethan's statement that he's a reporter with, "I shouldn't be telling you this, but..." and spills some sorry attempt at plot-explanation by revealing that health officials are fearful that the dragon-shaped birthmark on Sarah's shoulder (which she's had since BIRTH) could somehow be some terrible plague-inducing infection. Although she's in quarantine, Ethan has no trouble walking right into Sarah's room and introducing himself as a reporter who's not here to do a story, but to rescue her.

11) The snake is able to rush several blocks in a few seconds, destroying everything in its path, yet Ethan and Sarah always manage to stay ahead of it, whether they are in a car or on foot.

And every time they are about to die, gunfire from police handguns or army are enough to distract the serpent while they take off.

12) Trying to escape in a news helicopter, Ethan and Sarah have to jump when the snake grabs ahold of it. Fortunately, the snake holds it perfectly still and level, enabling them to jump a mere fifty feet or so down to the helipad below, uninjured.

13) Ethan's black coworker Bruce (played by Craig Robinson from "The Office") is left behind to deal with the un-killable Evil General while the other two flee in a station wagon driven by a willing passerby. The next day, Ethan calls him at work from his cell phone, only to be told by the forehead-bandaged Bruce, "I've been trying to reach you all night!"

14) The zookeeper, after seeing five of his elephants butchered by the snake, for some reason heads down to the police station to explain what happened, rather than calling 911 to get the police to the actual scene. He is of course put in a straight jacket and sent to the psych ward of a hospital (coincidentally the same one Sarah is locked in), where the psychiatrist tells him he will be released if he simply admits that he made a mistake.

15) Ethan decides he needs to drive Sarah to Mexico, but the dragon creatures quickly catch up to them as they race across some deserted part of the country. Sarah's great advice to Ethan is "speed up!"

Wow, the list goes on and on. But I'll let you add to it. Pretty much just watch any 30-second clip from anywhere in the movie, and you'll get at least two things to laugh at. I SO want this movie to become a classic. Do me and yourself a favor - get a bunch of folks together and go check it out. You'll be so glad you did.

I'm Back, So Read If You WIll

2007-09-12T17:18:00.000-04:00

It was a long drought, living without email and high-speed internet. I felt very disconnected from friends and family - I missed you all.

Friends and family - it's supposed to be a catch-all phrase. But there are loved ones who don't fall into either of those categories, aren't there? It's hard to know how to classify them without lengthy explanations. (That, of course, defeats the purpose of categorizing, doesn't it?) Not having the opportunity to speak to them, be it due to choice, tension, history, or restraining order (KIDDING!), precludes either procession or closure, just leaving things stuck - like the lump in your throat you catch before deciding whether to cry at a really sad part in the movie. You can't wish it away, but you don't want it to explode either, necessitating a later explanation. There are too many things like that for me now - not allowed to go back, but unable to move forward. The proverbial rock and a hard place. (As a Bible teacher, I should note that "proverbial" is used in the loosest sense of the word, as neither Solomon, Agur, nor Lemuel mentioned this dilemma.)

Those feelings have come through in a lot of the songs I've written in the past few months, lyrics of which include, "If I let you go, will you remember to love me?" and "The ears I wish were listening, aren't." To my chagrin, writing those songs proved to have no therapeutic value, since the disconnect from the people that I wished could be affected by them will never hear them.

On the other hand, I have no doubt they'll be available for public consumption soon enough. (The songs, not the people. Cannibalism should be discouraged if at all possible.) My studio has a dedicated space now, and is probably just a couple weeks from being fully functional. I'll furnish pictures later.

But in Indiana, it's been too nice of a week to talk much about the indoors. I'd much rather introduce you to some of my new neighbors. The raccoon has proven too elusive, and the beautiful red birds (cardinals, maybe?) too skittish for the camera. But the finches, rabbits, cardinals, sparrows, chipmunks, doves, etc. have proven to be more willing to strike a pose. (And holy cow - while writing this, a hawk actually made a first appearance! His mammoth body seemed very out of place in my backyard!)

Well, they're not exactly hawks or raccoons, but here's a few of my new companions:

None of these guys talk much, which makes for some pretty one-sided conversations. So if we haven't communicated in awhile, drop me an email, text, or phone call. If I loved you before, I still do - I promise. The only variable in that equation is what your feelings towards me might be now.

New Phone Number

2007-09-08T12:08:00.000-04:00

okay folks... My new house doesnt have Internet just yet, but I do have a new phone number...
and I'm accessing the Internet from my new ($200 less!) apple iPhone...
anyway, this small screen isn't exactly conducive to typing and proofreading an essay, so I'll simply leave you with my new number:
(260) 249-8976
oh, and although I didn't choose a plan with a lot of minutes, I do have unlimited texting and data, so feel free to send me texts and pictures!

Limited Access

2007-08-22T12:10:00.000-04:00

Turns out I can't get internet at the new house until September 12th. So, in a few days, I'm going to be starting a three-week period without regular web access. If there's anything urgent you need to contact me about, call me at 307-630-5951. Otherwise, email me and I'll check it when I can.

In the meantime, you can watch this really dumb video of what it's like to live without the internet (but only if you happen to have three extra minutes of your life that you don't want back...).

New Address

2007-08-20T12:59:00.000-04:00

Alright all... I'm within a few days of finishing up my move from apartment to house. By the time any mail arrives, I'll be residing at:

8311 Rail Fence Rd
Fort Wayne, IN 46835

For all you crazy women stalkers, here's a recon map!

My cell phone is still the same as it has been for years, but may be changing very soon. I'll let you know when it does.

Sleep Deprived, But Simpsonized

2007-08-01T23:18:00.000-04:00

Okay, so it's quarter after 11 and I should be in bed, considering I need to get up at 4:15 if I'm gonna leave the house at 5 to get to the gym before my 7am meeting. But I got distracted when I was perusing a local guy's blog and saw that you could Simpsonize yourself.

Never one to pass up the latest internet gadget of interest, I browsed over, uploaded my picture, and waited and waited and waited... yes, it's a bit slow, but it works pretty well.

This is what I got:

Well, not exactly what I got. In reality, I took a few seconds to airbrush out the Burger King logo in the lower righthand corner. Mostly because I could, but also because it was a slight distraction, and I don't really want to be a fast food commercial. If anything, I'd rather be the opposite, like when I compared the aftersmell of Rally's on my fingers to the odor of dog urine in "Unbelieve-a-barf".

Anyway, if you're up too late and want to Simpsonize yourself too, just go to simpsonizeme.com. Feel free to post your results.

Houses And Arms

2007-07-25T20:21:00.000-04:00

Well, I made the plunge.

I put in an offer on a house, and it was accepted. We signed the sale agreement today, and close in four weeks.

It's open on the inside with high ceilings, which I really like. Very welcoming and conducive to having get-togethers, or home studies, or whatever the future holds.

Paul Reiser, in his book "Couplehood", talked about the sort of thing that made me like this house:

"And you always walk through the place imagining a life that has nothing to do with reality. Planning things you'll never do: parties and soirées with tantalizing guests and performers from other lands. 'This is great. We can have a dance floor here, a cocktail area there, the orchestra can set up near the receiver line...'
And then you move in and spend the rest of your life eating corn chips out of a bowl in front of the TV.
'What happened to the dancing and the waltzing and jugglers and cocktail pavilion?'
'I thought we were someone else. My mistake.'
Because in real life, you're always in one of three places: the kitchen, the bathroom, or the bedroom. There are only three things to do in life, and that's where we do them."

I'm thinking it might be the same for me. After all, I can't think of more than two or three people who might help me move, much less a crowd who would come over for a party. I don't do cocktails, and a receiving line of one is just a receiver, after all.

Fortunately, I do at least four things in life, so the extra bedroom which I'll turn into my home studio will get used as well.

Speaking of moving, some of you know that my left arm hasn't exactly worked since the beginning of January. I've had limited movement and no strength in it for seven months. (As in, "Help, I can't push a door open, lift the milk jug, or pour the laundry detergent." I couldn't even lift the sheet to make the bed.) Not exactly a great condition to be in when trying to move from one residence to another.

Honestly, it's been pretty scary. It happened when I got deathly ill at the end of December, and was sick for 2 or 3 weeks. Every night, severe shoulder muscle cramps awakened me a dozen times a night, with pain so bad I would often be in tears. And when it was all over, I couldn't lift a five pound dumbell out in front of me.

In hopes of fending off potential rotator cuff surgery, I decided to see a chiropractor. After all, maybe it was just out of joint or whatever, right? As it turns out, it was all in my neck. Last week, I got the ol' scrag crunched, twisted, snapped, and manipulated in ways which caused sounds that should only be heard when biting down on hard candy. Fortunately, I'm pleased to report that by that evening, I'd regained more than 50% of my arm's ability! I continue to improve daily and expect to be back at a hundred percent soon.

Just in time to move boxes and furniture, eh?

Redesign

2007-07-14T23:49:00.000-04:00

A few days ago, I got the itch to get some design work done. So I've taken some late-night time to redo the main page of my web site.

As with any redesign, some will rave and others will complain. But I like it better, and since it's my web page, that's all that matters. (It's a different story when it's a client that complains. I learned that in the graphic design business sometime around 1992.)

So here's the before and after:

Now that the front page is done, I'll be able to satisfy my cravings to get a design fix by bringing into conformity the pages deeper into the hierarchy.

So there you have it.

Morning Ramblings

2007-07-14T08:41:00.000-04:00

I'm amazed, but in less than a week on steroids, Dakota's muzzle is almost completely back to normal. His nose had been pushed a half inch (literally) to the left, and is now just the way it should be. Two of those big tumor things are completely gone, and the third is shrinking very quickly. He's back to breathing normally, and no more snorfeling. (Yes, I'm aware that I just made up that word. Just because I'm not actively pastoring at the moment doesn't mean my right to invent words has been suspended.)

On another subject, I've been debating about buying a house here in Fort Wayne. My second 6-month lease is almost up, and my apartment building has unfortunately become somewhat of a tenement lately.

Now those who know me know that I've got no ill will towards people of other races and income levels... but I DO really despise it when humans leave beer cans, cigarette butts, and trash everywhere, and won't pick up after their dogs. While I rarely even see any of my neighbors - my hours being what they are - I do see telltale signs of their existence in the daily accumulation of their refuse.

Fortunately, houses here are really reasonable. (Not to say that houses can be irrational in other cities. Except maybe Amityville, if you buy into that sort of thing.)

What I mean, of course, is that prices here are incredibly low, lower even than Cheyenne, the housing market from whence I most recently came. So you may soon be subjected to some house searching-, loan securing-, belongings moving-, home repairing-sort of blog entries which make for such exciting reading. (Yawn.) I'll try my best to make them entertaining, if I choose to go that route.

On the other hand, I haven't fully committed in my mind to staying here long-term, though I certainly could. Fort Wayne is great, the job is satisfying at times and pretty secure (if not a constant roller coaster of income). Plus, my dad lives here now, which sort of locks me in for awhile. But there are times in the day I despise the fact that I'm in this career instead of making a real impact on people's lives like I did before.

Yes, I am aware that some find fault with me wanting to "be somebody of note" in this life. As one anonymous commenter recently railed, "Your codependence (sic) stems from your arrogance, egotism, and the need to be the center of attention."

Is there truth in that statement? Sure, it's very possible. What type-A man out there isn't striving for perfection to impress people in addition to himself? What musician doesn't write a song with the listener at least partially in mind? For that matter, who doesn't mow their lawn with maybe a fraction of a thought about what the neighbors think? Pride is always present, and haughtiness in mind is a constant struggle - especially for people who produce, create, design, and yes... serve. An honest person will admit that anything done publicly for man or mankind brings a measure of pride. Yet another opportunity to recognize the source of your strength and abilities and give credit to Whom credit is due. (And repent if necessary!)

So... My decisions in the upcoming months and years will need to be made with an active suppression of pride. After all, "When pride comes, then comes dishonor, but with the humble is wisdom. The integrity of the upright will guide them, but the crookedness of the treacherous will destroy them." (Proverbs 11:2-3)

Okay... I've typed too long, no time to edit, 'cause I'm off to work. Enjoy your weekend, people!

Finally Some Good News

2007-07-10T07:20:00.000-04:00

It seems that the tumors which are distorting the front half of Dakota's face and preventing him from breathing much through his nose are not cancer after all. His vet says that after multiple tests, the smart guys at Purdue have determined that this is a rare condition called sterile granuloma dermatitis. And apparently there's been some success at treating it with steroids.

Of course, with the high concentration of steroids in his system, he won't be allowed to compete in any bodybuilding competitions. But he never did well in them anyway. The judges always said all that eyeliner made him look like a girly man.

Dakota Dangerously Diseased

2007-06-27T21:15:00.000-04:00

It's an unusually lonely evening here in the apartment. You see, Dakota is spending the night at the vet's because he has some weird fast-growing masses propagating in his nose/muzzle region. They are very likely cancerous. I sure hope they're not, but hoping doesn't do much in determining doggy doctor diagnoses. I'm steeling myself to hear the worst.

The really stinky thing is that I just got him back three weeks ago. And he's been so good! Not a single accident in the house, and because I brush him every day now, the hair isn't nightmarish like it was before.

It'll be two weeks to get the biopsy results back. At the rate these are growing, I can't imagine having to wait. I'll most likely be spoiling him in the meantime - lavishing him with hugs and attention, letting him sleep on the bed, catering to his every whim... Hey, wait a minute! I ALREADY do that! He's got a pretty good racket going here!'

But no sense focusing on depressing thoughts. He's been so great for me at key times in my life when it really mattered. So I think I'll make a montage of him looking his most majestic...

(ten minute span of time)

And here you go!

Firey Firsts At Forty

2007-06-13T21:46:00.000-04:00

In childhood, everything is new. The first time you see a a bird's nest, an electromagnet, a pollywog, a touchlamp, a blue-eyed dog, a Spirograph... you're enthralled.

But by the time you've lived more than 14,000 coherent days, it's easy to get skeptical. The "heard it all, seen it all, did it all" attitude just sort of comes over you naturally with the passage of time.

Sure, some strive to keep taking in new experiences by vacationing in far-off lands or scheduling "never did that before" events like whitewater rafting or African safaris. Unfortunately, unless it's done on purpose, there's not a lot new out there to see in everyday life besides the newest appliance, cell phone, or car model.

But tonight I saw something new while I was taking Dakota out for his final potty break of the evening. I'd brushed as much excess hair from him as I could, leaving the grass around him completely white, as if dusted with powdered sugar.

A group of five or six neighborhood kids were out on their own safari, marching up and down stairs, investigating the apartment complex's hidden fascinations, and discussing their deep kid one-upsmanship topics like, "I can count to purple backwards."

Dakota was, as always, a feature draw, and I fielded the standard questions ("Is that a snow dog?" "Can I pet him?" "Is he a wolf?" etc.).

Once the tiny platoon moved on, I saw that dusk was fully upon us, and Dakota still hadn't done his business. (He gets more than a little rattled being surrounded by many hands and voices.)

Just as I was about to give up and try again in the morning, I thought I saw a reflection out of the corner of my eye. Far across the parking lot on a third floor balcony, a woman smoked a cigarette. Was that what I had seen? Possibly.

But suddenly I saw it again. Closer to the ground this time. Like a spark jumping from a fireplace. A few seconds later, another one - bigger than the last, like a tiny explosion quickly disappearing.

It took my brain a few seconds to access the data I'd taken in since moving here. Then it registered - they were fireflies (or lightning bugs, as they're apparently called 'round these parts).

A brand new experience, which even exceeded my expectations.

Is this the last new thing I'll see? Doubtful. And it occurred to me that, while I might not have a brand new and unique experience like this every day, it is possible to observe life with that childlike wonder again. You see, every tree, every cloud, every bird that I'll see tomorrow will be unique, having some visual stimulus to offer.

Okay, maybe that's a little deep, a little overboard, a little too weird. It might just be the nonsensical ramblings of a man about to drop off to sleep. Or it could be the birth of a whole new paradigm. My guess? It's probably somewhere in the middle.

Old And Bored

2007-06-11T07:48:00.000-04:00

Well, today is the big four-oh. I don't feel much different, but then again, I've really only been awake for an hour. Like tea, a good depression needs to steep before releasing its brown goodness.

I don't feel sad or depressed over stubbing my toe on this major milestone. However, I did just find out that the plans I thought I had for my birthday weren't actually plans at all, so I'm less focused on the new decade and more on the fact that I'm going to be sitting home alone.

An old friend of mine recently observed that the inclusion of more pictures in my blog was probably just an excuse for being less verbose. What could have given her that impression? Umm.... bye.

Indianiel

2007-06-06T14:17:00.000-04:00

Hoosier |ˈhoō zh ər| (noun) - a native or inhabitant of Indiana.

I was surprised to discover recently that the term "Hoosier" is not an insult. I mean, it sounds like one, doesn't it? "He's a Hoosier" sounds way more like "What a dweeb," than it does "He's a proud resident of Fort Wayne," right?

Now, lest you misunderstand, allow me to clarify that I've got no problem with Indiana. As a matter of fact, it's quite nice here. Green lawns, lush trees, flowing rivers, nice people, etc. For the most part, I like it.

It's just that since moving here last September, I've mostly felt like a visitor. Apartment living, no home church (still), and a lack of close friends have all contributed to my stay here feeling more like an extended trip than residency.

But recently, the impending expiration of my Wyoming driver's license forced my hand. I would've been illegal come next Monday, so this was the day I scheduled to head to the BMV. (No, that's not a typo. Here, it's BMV, not DMV. Speaking of dumb names, the gas company here is called NIPSCO.)

Anyway, my new drivers license and license plate (yes, plate is correctly singular - you only get one here), don't have me feeling any more like a Hoosier than I did this morning, but I imagine it'll help the transition somewhat.

The Boy Is Back In Town...

2007-06-03T20:52:00.000-04:00

After five months... guess who lives with me again?!?!?!?

He's had some adventures, for sure. Headed out on the town for days at a time, went one-on-one with a raccoon (Dakota: one, Racoon: permanent zero), and - sadly - lost track of his best friend Bear over a week ago.

I'm still wondering what I was thinking in taking him back. But I have really missed him, and he did immediately settle back into our old routines.

Of course, feel free to ask me if this was a good idea when a flurry of husky hair swirls about my head in the car, or as I stand outside holding a leash at four in the morning. Probably not, but at the moment, as I watch him contentedly sleeping at my feet under the desk, I'm feeling pretty good about it...

A Year Later, New Life

2007-06-01T01:18:00.000-04:00

It's been exactly a year since I resigned and my life exploded...

Hmm...

I suppose should write about my regrets, the lessons I've learned, maybe even a righteous warning to those who might be heading down the same path...

But I really just have one thing to say...

The Colonel lives.

A Dad Update

2007-05-24T11:55:00.000-04:00

For the bunches of you that have asked, yes, my dad is doing lots better, thanks.

Yesterday, he excitedly asked if Lindsey (my girlfriend) and I noticed what was missing from his room... It was his wheelchair. "They gave me my pilot's license," he boasted, sitting in his four-legged chair.

Yes, therapy has done him wonders, as have nearly two months of no smoking or drinking. He's tooling along fine - mostly with the walker, but also without.

He has no computer or internet access in the nursing home (and his Bresnan email address is now defunct), so you're stuck writing cards and letters the old fashioned way. Send them to my address for now:
4680 Craftsbury Cir Apt B
Fort Wayne, IN 46818
His writing, while much improved, is pretty bad still, so don't be offended if he doesn't write back.

Also, I snapped a picture of him yesterday for you all. Sorry that the image quality looks like I've placed him in a Russian orphanage...

Thanks for your prayers!

Climb Another Hill

2007-05-01T19:55:00.000-04:00

It started raining today - a good hard rain. Cloudbursts have erupted several times this afternoon - those flash flood kind of rains that fill the building with deafening sound. The kind of downpour that practically forces you to stand up and go look out a window.

I'm in my apratment now with a dull headache, sitting at my desk and looking out a large window. Outside one of these hard rains is diminishing to a mere sprinkle. It's darker than it should be, but just from the overhang of clouds. There's still plenty of daylight left, even as 8pm approaches. I notice for the first time this year that the greenery has all come back. All the trees are at various stages of budding out with new leaves.

Everything is wet and dripping, reminding me very much of Oregon. Making me think of all the directions I could have steered my life when I was young and first out on my own. Looking back over the last twenty years, and all the crossroads I've faced. It's a little painful - not depressing necessarily, but it is quite solemn.

As I reflect on such things, I wonder what the reason is for my melancholy. After all, I had an amazing month at work. Without divilging the details, I basically had expected to score a 9.5 for April, and instead finished at 26.6 (higher is better).

But that kind of success is fleeting here. It's gone with the turn of the calendar page. It reminds me of playing a show in front of a great crowd - a concert where every song's finish produces its own climax of cheers and whistles. A show where the most beautiful woman in the room falls for the rock star...

But then, the show is over, the woman is gone, and all that's left is the teardown, the aftershow headache, and - as Bob Seger put it - "the echo from the amplifiers ringing in your head." It's the worst sort of post-success syndrome. Everything here resets on the first of the month, and the uphill climb starts again.

Too many things in life are like that. Way too many things.

More Music

2007-04-28T08:29:00.000-04:00

I've been getting grief from numerous people over the last few months for letting my website stagnate. So this morning before work, I updated the "Ron's Music" page with a few more choice selections from the Ron catalog. Happy now?

Lazarus Dad

2007-04-14T09:23:00.001-04:00

I'm trying to wrap my brain around the latest turn of events. I had just started to accept that my dad was dying, and that he was lost to me.

But two days ago, I showed up at lunchtime and he was talking - albeit with some difficulty and mostly partial sentences. He sounded very much like himself, but for the 20 minutes I was there, he was talking about how there was "something screwy going on" there in the nursing home. He had a conspiracy theory going that everybody was in on except him and me. He was going to find out more before uncovering it all and revealing it to me. But he did let me know that it was financial, and was the reason behind his missing shoes. I reassured him that his shoes were at my apartment, but he told me to wait, that when they asked me for money to buy him shoes, that would only be the beginning. He was learning more about the therapy conspiracy on television, and by listening to whispers in the hall. He exhorted me to pretend that I wasn't aware, so that we wouldn't tip them off...

I left the nursing home with mixed feelings. Sure, it was nice to have dad no longer a vegetable, but is it better to replace that with angry, suspicious, senility?

I showed up last night after work about 8:45pm. I didn't know what to expect this time, but I figured it'd be a quick visit. Imagine my surprise when my dad - my REAL dad - greeted me.

He asked if they'd given me any trouble about visiting. "No, dad, I often get here this late."

"Well, what excuses have they given you?" he asked me.

"Excuses for what?"

"For not letting you see me all this time."

"Dad, I've been here every day since you got here, at least once a day, and often twice. No one's ever tried to prevent me from seeing you."

He had no recollection whatsoever.

He did recall his paranoia, and acknowledges now that he was hallucinating.

His 180-degree turnaround astounded me. He can read again, and his hands are not trembling nearly to the degree that they were. He has regained most of his clarity, even remembering several telephone numbers from my childhood. I asked him how many children he had.

"Three."

"Good. What are their names?"

"Dum Dum and two girls."

Yep, that's my dad alright.

I'm guessing that maybe it's just taken these two weeks to detoxify his system after circumstanitally being forced into abstinence from alcohol and tobacco. Could that, coupled with dehydration, have accounted for his recent freefall towards death?

It's obviously much too early to be making any plans, and his medical problems are all still major issues.

But in spite of having to yet again adjust my entire life's paradigm for the third time in about a month, it was good to see my dad again. When I left, he shook my hand and told me he loved me. It was a powerful hand that held mine - a firm, authoritative grip. To this day, he's still got the best handshake of any man I've ever met.

Thanks for praying.

Father and Son

2007-04-07T23:44:00.000-04:00

I moved away from Cheyenne a little over seven months ago. There were a lot of tearful goodbyes - and some downright sobfests.

Probably the most difficult - yet understated - farewell was with my dad. We went to Subway one afternoon, talked, picked up the newly-repaired central vacuum for my house, then drove back to his apartment building's parking lot.

He said he wasn't good at goodbyes, so he simply shook my hand in the car, and we told each other "I love you."

As I drove away, I wondered if I'd ever see him alive again.

We have of course talked several times since then, and traded some emails, but he's suffered from despair. With health problems and a lack of projects to keep him busy, he had been telling me that he felt "like a leech on society," having "nothing to contribute anymore," etc.

Less than a month ago, I told him he was always welcome to follow me to Fort Wayne, just as he'd come to Cheyenne over ten years ago. He said he'd consider it, but I doubted he'd take me up on it.

Two days later, he wrote me this email:

Hi Son,

It has been so painful to make this decision, but I see no other choice. You know I don’t ask favors from anyone. I must come to live with you. I am praying for God’s guidance.

I can get around the apartment slowly and with effort but must keep myself supported. Most of the time I rise I get dizzy and must wait for my head to clear for fear of falling again. All of this exertion is taking a toll on the rest of my body as well, tiring easily and short of breath. My appetite is small so I eat very little. Even after my foot mends, negotiating the stairs will be difficult. I doubt I’ll be doing any driving.

This will be a tremendous change in your life again. My presence will seriously impede your social and domestic life and I truly apologize. I had planned for it to be otherwise. Since it difficult for me to maintain my concentration, I’m leaving my life in your hands.

...(deleted financial stuff)...

I will need a ground floor bedroom and bath. I’ll buy a twin bed and linens there, as well as a computer desk. The only things I will bring are a computer and small TV set besides a few personal items and files. It would be nice to bring my small Lazy Boy (will it fit in your vehicle?).

...(deleted family stuff)...

Since you’ll have to move first, you set the schedule. Just be aware that I’m quite anxious, and can’t exist way much longer.

Again I apologize for this tremendous imposition and can’t thank you enough for your consideration.

I Love you!

Dad

Of course, I agreed and immediately began making preparations.

Over the next couple days, he followed up with various preparatory emails like:

My thoughts on furniture for the bedroom include: Twin bed with linen (no headboard required); And small dresser (42”), without mirror. We can shop for a computer desk later (I won’t have a printer).

I knew my life would change, but he's my dad. His personality and tendency to thoughtlessly say hurtful things would be difficult to live with in such close proximity, but again, he's my dad and he needs me.

I tore down my weight cage, moved my bedroom into the den, bought a bed and furniture for him, and awaited his arrival.

But last Sunday, the passenger riding in the U-Haul with my son Jason was not the man I expected to see. He seemed to have aged 20 years in the last seven months. That is no exaggeration - if anything, it's a gross understatement.

Something has happened to my dad in a very short period of time. Something terrible.

At long last, his body has violently and viciously retaliated against decades of alcoholism and tobacco addiction.

It took him over 20 minutes to navigate the ten second walk from the parking lot to my front door. He had trouble concentrating and communicating. His emails had seemed coherent, so what was going on?

On Tuesday, we got him to the hospital. He was dehydrated, and a lot of things in his blood were out of whack. By that evening, he was in the ICU. I figured that once he got stabilized, he would be back to normal again.

But even while the doctors were getting his levels back to normal, he was continuing to plummet.

He can now barely stand, and can no longer take a step unassisted. He has lost all control of his bodily functions, drooling unintentionally and messing in his pants constantly. He shakes continually as if suffering from an advanced stage of Parkinson's. He has lost most memory, and can't maintain a thought long enough to get out an entire sentence.

The man who designed ventilation systems for Katharine Hepburn and drafted the blueprints for Calvary Chapel Cheyenne can no longer read or hold a pen, much less sign his name.

His body is racked with pain, his spine is rapidly degenerating, his lungs are filling with fluid, and plaque is quickly building up in his heart. He can hardly speak, and when he does, it's mostly the nonsense of delirium. About the only coherent thing he says is when I'm leaving: "I love you too, Son."

After five days in the hospital, he has been moved to a nursing home, where I suspect he will soon be completely bedridden, and most likely die in a matter of weeks or months.

As you might imagine, I'm experiencing a range of emotions I was not expecting to.
I'm confused because I don't know how such a downhill slide has occured in just three weeks.
I am filled with sorrow that each day I'm losing more and more of my dad. Each time I see him, I wonder if this is the time he won't recognize me.
I'm fearful of the financial responsibility as I look through his files and see things like thousands of dollars in unpaid taxes, knowing that years ago he put my name on many of his accounts.
I ache over the thought of him in pain, and my inability to spend every minute of the day in the nursing home to give him drinks of water and ensure that he is being attended to.
I am angry over his failure to stop smoking and drinking in spite of the many times I begged him to over the last twenty years.
I feel guilty that I feel angry, and angry that I feel guilty.

But I'm not writing this to sort out my feelings. I'm really just giving an update to those who care about my dad. If you care for either one of us, please pray.

Thanks.

Violin Eruption

2007-03-07T23:26:00.000-05:00

A customer of mine today bought a Boss GT-Pro. Naturally, I asked how much guitar recording he was doing. Turns out, he isn't. Actually, he is writing a symphony for the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra, and this effects unit is for violin. Wow, that's going to be killer! I can't wait to hear what he comes up with.

I was thinking about that tonight, and with the few minutes I had before bed, got a little experimental in my web surfing.

The result was running across Bobby Yang (this is not the customer of which I spoke earlier), who I've never heard of before. He is a brilliant, classically-trained rock violinist who doesn't use electronics - no pedals, just the instrument.

As a young teen, I was of course blown away with the rest of my generation at the virtuosic playing of Edward Van Halen on his debut album. Especially pyrotechnic was the solo entitled "Eruption," spotlighting Eddie's playing in a way no one had before.

Well, if you're familiar with Eddie's version, you simply have to listen to Bobby Yang playing it on the violin. Holy cow!

Just click the pic and be prepared...

In Your Face

2007-02-13T06:59:00.000-05:00

It's been awhile since my now-legendary blog posts of Face The Facts and Facial Follow-Up were published, and I thought I'd see if MyHeritage.com's facial recognition software has gotten any better.

Nope, it hasn't.

See You Soon, Aleczander

2007-02-06T07:31:00.000-05:00

Aww, my little man... I was already missing you and wondering if I'd ever get back to Cheyenne to see your family again. Now you've gone and made me wait even longer. I guess I can wait until heaven, since you haven't left me any other choice now...

I don't know why I feel so horrible inside - after all, you don't. Running around for the first time in your life, your lungs filling with the sweet air of glory, your muscles strong... no more chair, no more oxygen tank, no more cramping...

I know you're going to meet Dr. Luke pretty soon, if you haven't already. The first physician who won't be able to find anything wrong with you. Tell him not to bother. Arm wrestle him instead.

So, if you're so happy, why are so many of us crying? You'd be able to explain it to me, since you're not only talking now, but you've seen God face to face. You know fully, in the same way He's always fully known you. You've become like Him, because you've seen Him just as He is. Aww, dude... you have no idea how much I want to talk with you.

And I have to ask: Are you laughing out loud when Jesus teaches, the same way you did for me? Man, I hope so.

So should I say, "So long" or "See you soon"? Since both are true, maybe I'll just leave you with, "Have fun, Alec... It's about time."

Right In The Eye

2007-01-25T23:53:00.000-05:00

Have you ever tried to watch your eyes move?

You can't, can you? The only time you can ever see your eyes in a reflection is when they are looking directly at you.

You stare into the mirror, and turn your head. It's the illusion of movement, but in reality, your eyes aren't moving, only your head surrounding them.

Throughout the ages, man has seen everyone's eyes move but his own. Until the late 1800's, no one had ever seen the movement of his own orbs within their sockets. It was then, of course, that the moving pictures were developed.

So, here's my thought... Could it be that man invented the motion picture camera - not to film the great events of history, or even to create blockbuster cinematic features, but for this one reason: to see his own eyes move.

I believe so. That's my theory, and I'm sticking to it.

Unbelieve-a-barf

2007-01-23T23:57:00.000-05:00

I used to find comfort in routine. I'd often end up ordering the same thing at each restaurant to which I'd go. Pollo con Crema at Guadalajara, Carne Asada at La Costa... and at Subway, it was a 6" Turkey Breast on wheat, no cheese, toasted.

But as my blog entry entitled "Chicken Jerky" indicated last month, I've been shaking things up a bit - trying new things, pushing the envelope.

Tonight, after work, I drove through a local burger joint, a chain called Rally's Hamburgers (you might also know them as "Checkers"). I haven't eaten there much, because it's pretty greasy stuff. But for some reason that's where I ended up tonight.

I saw a sign advertising their new Unbeliev-a-burgers. They looked pretty good. And since I'm avoiding routine, I thought I'd be adventurous and try the one I wouldn't normally get: the Mushroom Swiss burger.

At first bite, I knew it was a mistake.

Oh my gosh, this thing was gross. I can't even describe it. I mean, the burgers are greasy enough - the paper wrapping them glistens with oil, soaking itself within moments. But then there were slimy sliced mushrooms marinated in some foul concoction, permeating the entire sandwich with their rank taste and smell. Oh, I did not feel good.

To give you an idea of just how repugnant it was, I just realized as I'm sitting here that the residue left behind on my hand smells like a dog peed on it. Ugh. I've gotta go wash.

Not So Super Bowl

2007-01-23T09:55:00.000-05:00

I'm not a huge football fan by any stretch of the imagination. As a matter of fact, the idea of repeatedly sitting in front of the TV for three hours at a time seems like an utter waste of life, unless you're hanging out with friends at the same time.

Ever since high school, the concept of being a sports fan has been a mystery to me. Memorizing statistics that have no bearing on life, talking about yesterday's game that neither of you played, being madly devoted to a group of men who wear the same shirt... I just don't get it.

But as you might have heard, the Chicago Bears and the Indianapolis Colts are the two teams going to the Super Bowl this year. And here in Fort Wayne, we're about halfway between Chicago and Indianapolis. So you can imagine the buzz around here. Everybody wants to talk about their favorite team, what the season was like, and what the upcoming game holds.

All I can say is "Aaaauuuggghhh! If one more person tries to talk football with me, I'm gonna drown myself in my bathtub!"

Please talk to me about something REAL. Talk to me about LIFE. Talk to me about YOUR life, not some game that other people are playing. What do you feel? What secrets are you afraid to reveal? Who are you when you're the only one around? What are your plans, your fears, your dreams? What could happen that would make you happy? What thoughts do you have that you think no one else does? THAT'S what I want to talk about. I want to know YOUR statistics, not the average rushing yards for a team's away games in November.

If that's where you're at too, please feel free to email me.

That being said, I thought it was funny to read that the Colts' coach Tony Dungy said, "It's a shame we have to go to Miami. We should just go to Fort Wayne and play this off." If that were to happen, I bet more people would be coming to visit me here. And I might actually get a chance to talk to them when the game was over...

That's Okay

2007-01-14T22:23:00.000-05:00

After weeks of being very sick, I'm FINALLY feeling better!

Today I've been writing a song and cleaning my apartment. Both things are demanding to be finished, but are each competing for my attention. As a result, neither is as far along as I want it to be. But that's okay, I can finish both projects another day.

As a matter of fact, I'm shooting for 2007 to be the year of saying, "That's okay." No sense wasting energy stressing about things over which I have no control. And the things I can control, I'll just turn into goals with definite parameters and time frames.

Peace and direction: sounds good to me. My 2006 definitely lacked that. But you know what? That's okay, too.

Oh, My Achin' Head

2007-01-10T23:13:00.000-05:00

To all who have written and asked, yes, I am still quite sick.

I had to leave work this morning and go sit in the doctor's office for a couple hours. I got a second round of antibiotics, stronger ones, so hopefully this time it'll work.

It's after eleven, and I've got a pounding headache for some reason. So, I've got nothing funny to say, and I'm off to bed.

'Night.

My life, MySpace

2007-01-08T20:48:00.000-05:00

I stayed away from MySpace as long as possible, because I heard all the parental concern stories. But it's actually a very cool way to stay in touch with friends.

And for those of you who were friends with Dakota, my MySpace page is really going to be the only place to keep up on what's happening in his life. For example, today he went to.... um, no. You're just going to have to find that out for yourself.

Oh, and if you have (or get) a MySpace page too, then please feel free to be my friend. Believe me, it was really depressing at first, when it said "Ron has 0 friends."

I'm also pretty sure the blog is going to stay where it is for the long-term. No sense breakin' what don't need fixin'.

Also, for those of you who are praying people, please continue to pray for me. I'm not delirious anymore, but I'm still sick as a dog. (But not Dakota, he's REALLY happy. A different dog. One with swollen sinuses, burning eyes, and pain in his throat. THAT kind of dog.)

Home Sweet Home

2007-01-07T14:07:00.000-05:00

My friend Tammy lives up in Auburn, a little town about 20 minutes north of Fort Wayne. She owns a consulting business that designs and specifies construction finishes for schools and universities, so she's home a lot.

I really miss being my own boss and having that kind of flexibility. In the months before I moved from Cheyenne, running Creative Services Studio meant that I was home almost all the time, too.

And of course my Siberian Husky Dakota liked that schedule much better too. Although Dakota was lonely after losing his best friend Ginger, a beautiful Boxer, he found comfort in our frequent walks and trips to the dog park.

When planning for the move to Indiana, it was good to find an apartment that took big dogs like Dakota. Unfortunately, life hasn't been very satisfactory for him. He's home alone all day while I spend 12-14 hours at work, six days a week.

Tammy was saying the other day that her dog Bear has been lonely since his friend passed away, and mentioned that if I ever wanted to part with Dakota, she'd be happy to take him. She's got a house with a fenced yard and lives across from a park.

Well, a couple of days ago, I took the plunge. Dakota's living at his new place now, and happy as can be.

His new best friend is Bear, a golden-retriever/chow mix that he spends half the day outside with.

Of course, I'm going to miss his company and morning wake-up calls of Husky talk, but I'm so much happier knowing HE'S happier. He's quickly adjusted to his new home and family (with two teenage boys!), and has already captured everyone's hearts.

So, just a week into 2007, and changes are already coming. I can't wait to see what the coming months hold.

On The Mend

2007-01-03T15:04:00.000-05:00

Just a quick update: I tried to go to work yesterday, but that lasted all of about 46 minutes. Another 17 hours of sleep, and I was ready to go this morning. Not even close to 100% yet, but healthy enough to work. Thanks for all the encouraging words and prayers.

"This is a SICK world we're living in! Sick people!"

2006-12-30T21:04:00.000-05:00

(Two points for the movie reference...)

No, nobody did anything weird or mean to me. No sociopath slashed my tires or threatened to remove my eyeballs with his elbow. (Okay, I thought of LOTS of gross ways a sociopath could threaten to remove my eyeballs, but I've got a wide divergence of readership, and thought it best to edit out the uber-gross descriptions.)

So why the title?

I am really, REALLY sick.

Severe chills and fever, muscle cramps, headache, outrageous neckache, unproductive cough from lungs of iron, and worst of all, I feel stoned out of my gourd.

I seriously haven't felt this way since I used to smoke pot. The last time I did that was about 1988 I think, but suddenly I remember the delirium. Only this time, laughing would aggravate my neck and head, thus hurting really bad. So I promise not to enjoy this at all.

Keep in mind, too, that I'm not griping, I'm just saying.

No "woe is me because I'm alone," because saying it doesn't change it. Actually, if you think about it, saying it makes you more alone, because people really don't like to be around complainers. (And at this point, at least one person in the world is saying, "Sure! NOW he gets it!")

There have been a lot of changes for me in 2006, which I think would have to be the understatement of the year (pun definitely intended there). But if I dig deep enough, I know that every one of them is my own fault - even the ones that on the first few layers could be blamed on others.

It seems rather fitting to be stuck in bed with the flu or walking pneumonia or whatever this is as the year draws to a close. Alone in my apartment with no one so say, "Oh, you poor thing! What can I do?"

While I clutch my head in pain with every attempted cough, elsewhere people will be singing "Auld Lang Syne," which in Latin means,"Old acquaintances should be forgotten and never brought to mind. Should old acquaintances try to talk, it'll only bring up old anxieties." At least this is how some have been interpreting this since I sort of disappeared in June.

In reality, it's old Scottish and means something like "times gone by," but nobody really knows for sure. So I'm sticking to my translation as being the authoritative one. After all, if enough people repeat it, it'll become truth. That's what happened with evolution, right?

So, if you happen to read my blog and want to send me a cheery "hello," this weekend would be a good choice for that gesture. In my imitation-stonedednessosityism, it might even make me giggle and make 2007 start a whole lot better than 2006 ended up. (I promise to giggle quietly.)

Oh, and here's your "sick world" clue:

Happy New Year, folks. Emphasis on the "happy."

Presidential Peace

2006-12-27T14:39:00.000-05:00

I just now heard Gerald Ford died yesterday. That made me a little sad - probably because he was the first President I really remember from my childhood.

I have a memory from 1976 of getting into a fight with some kid at the Day Care Center because he was pro-Jimmy Carter and I was pro-Ford. At the age of nine, we weren't exactly students of the intracacies of presidential qualifications. The true source of the conflict was that his dad was going to vote for Carter, and mine was casting his ballot for Ford.

I'm nowhere near as passionate about politics as I was then - quite the opposite. Frankly, I can stand neither liberal fault-finding nor conservative conspiracy-theorizing. I hate politics in their entirety - both because they are so ludicrous, and yet are so necessary.

But the one thing that really bothers me is that ever since Nixon's fiasco of criminal activity in Watergate, the press has viewed the office of the President with disdain. In the last few decades, it's been open season on the man in the White House. (Insert Dick Cheney joke here if you must.) Yes, being in the public eye makes you fair game. But poachers who will kill at any cost are a danger to any society.

I remember that one misstep on the steps of Air Force One turned Gerald Ford into being portrayed as a klutz. He was lampooned on Saturday Night Live to the giggles of millions, but the press began broadcasting every one of his golf and tennis gaffes.

Not one of us could live up to the scrutiny of being on camera 24 hours a day. Never mind that Ford was a college football All-Star. He was a clumsy oaf because the press said so.

Today, George W. Bush is portrayed as a brainless chimp. I've never been behind the scenes as he discusses the war in Iraq with his cabinet members and advisors, so I can't explain all of his decision-making rationale. And I've never personally met the man, so I can't speak to his character.

But I CAN say this: You don't get to the most powerful office in the world by being an idiot. Whether he is a Democrat or a Republican, a conservative or a liberal, the President of the United States of America will always have my respect because of the office he holds, the responsibility he bears, and the authority with which he has been entrusted. I may not always like him, I will rarely agree with him, but I will always respect him.

My encouragement is: Debate the issues, stand up for your rights and beliefs, operate within the boundaries of the laws of our nation. But do it without using childish and uninformed insults like "idiot." We'll all be better off. As the apostle Peter said, "Honor all people, love the brotherhood, fear God, honor the king." (1Pet. 2:17)

And to Gerald Ford, I say, "Rest in peace, Mr. President."

A Comic Marvel

2006-12-21T23:56:00.000-05:00

Ever since I was a kid, I enjoyed both comic books and drawing. Naturally, I thought it would be a pretty simple thing to combine those two loves into the ability to create my own comics.

Whoa. Easier said than done. Every foray into creative comic making was difficult, pitiful, or both.

Eventually, I broke down and bought this book:

While it certainly gave me an appreciation for what goes into the composition of comics pages and the creation of characters, it didn't help me actually make anything.

But lo and behold, tonight I discovered Plasq's Comic Life 1.2 on my Mac.

As soon as I fired it up, I loved the interface. Learning curve? Ha! Zero. Inside of three minutes, I'd made this:

Yeah, it's not exactly a creative, award-winning piece, but you get the idea. If you've got a Mac, check it out for yourself.

R U TXTING ME?

2006-12-20T08:31:00.000-05:00

Some of you who keep in contact with me via Verizon text messaging might be having hurt feelings right now because I seem unresponsive. It's not me - I'm only getting about half of the texts that people tell me they've sent. So, please don't be offended or think I'm dissing you. If I don't respond to a text or two within a reasonable amount of time, leave me a voicemail or email or something.

So I'm guessing this means it's probably about time to switch over from Wyoming to Indiana, phone-wise. Don't worry, I'll let you know when I make the change.

HOPE UR RDY 4 XMAS. WHT DID U GET ME? DONT TELL, CUZ I LIKE 2 B SURPRIZD.

Busy, Nerdy, or Both?

2006-12-19T06:42:00.000-05:00

I am running on adrenaline at work.

Imagine just learning to juggle and finally getting to the place where you can keep three tennis balls in the air. You're thinking, "I can do this, this is going to be possible," when someone throws in a bowling ball. Hmm... can I do THAT? "Yes, I'll adapt. I'll adjust."

Then another bowling ball is added...

and another.

Wow... am I doing this? I think I am...

Just think about one thing at a time as it comes... don't worry about the other four spheres in the air, all different sizes and velocities but each one requiring the same amount of mattention.

Suddenly, a chainsaw enters the mix...

Anyway, so maybe you've guessed I'm a bit busy. However, not so busy that at 6:30am that a little icon on someone's web page proclaiming their "Nerd Score" can't distract me.

Distracted I was, the test I took. (That sentence sounds pretty funny if you read it aloud with a Yoda voice.)

With total honesty I answered the questions. I was sure I'd be told that yes, I was a nerd, but one of those cool ones like Steve Jobs. Not the poindexter pocket protecter kind of nerd, but the one who is smart, makes good money, and can still get the girl because he's a great cross between nerd and cool.

The test was tabulated, the score provided.

And I was disappointed.

"Not nerd."

I think they just didn't ask the right questions, maybe.

The computer's conclusion was: 90% scored higher (more nerdy), and 10% scored lower (less nerdy). What does this mean? Your nerdiness is "Not nerdy, but then again maybe not all that cool either."

A great way to start the day. Not nerdy, but not cool. Not Steve Jobs.

Yeah, maybe not, but at least I'm gonna be BUSY for the rest of the day...

Note: By the way, if you want to take the Nerd Test yourself, just click on the icon with my nerd score.

Chicken Jerky

2006-12-09T01:11:00.000-05:00

You'd think that by the time you reach the age of 39.5, there wouldn't be much more to experience in life that would take you by surprise. "Been there, done that" by now, right? Well, I'm thinking there's still some tricks left up life's sleeve.

For example, tonight I ate at Taj Majal, a local Indian restaurant. Yep, you read that right: Indian food. The first time I partook of that Asian cusine (in preparation for a trip to India that was cancelled due to Taylor pretending like she was going to be born), I thoroughly disliked it.

I've now tried four or five Indian dishes, and they've ranged from mildly unpalatable to pretty okay. But tonight I had Chicken Tikka Masala, extra spicy. Man oh man oh man was it awesome! This could very possibly be my favorite food ever. At very least, it's in the top five.

This is what it looks like:

Yes, I know that this photograph looks remarkably similar to vomit. It's not just the picture... the food really does look like this in real life, too.

But it's goooooooooood....

And it's great to have a new favorite something, you know?

Did you see Steve Martin in the 1979 movie "The Jerk"? He was a white man (with absolutely no rhythm) being raised by a poor black family.

But one night, he heard nerdy white big band "music in a mellow mood" on the radio, and his feet started tapping. His fingers started snapping. This man, who had complained to his family about the blues ("There's something about those songs. They depress me.") finally found something that spoke to him.

Excitedly, he exclaimed, "Well, if THIS is out there, think how much MORE is out there!"

That's kind of how I'm feeling about Chicken Tikka Masala.

Call Me Phil

2006-12-07T20:48:00.000-05:00

I don't know where people are hearing about my blog, but it's been picking up quite a bit of traffic in the last couple weeks. It's weird, because other than a small handful of folks from Cheyenne who keep in touch (as much as you CAN keep in touch with me, since I work all the time and rarely have time to respond), the traffic is coming from elsewhere.

Elsewhere. An interesting word. Where? Somewhere else. Elsewhere. Why doesn't it work for the other important questions, like "Who?" Someone else. Elsewho.

Some words are more expandable. Take, for example, "yesterday." It also works for "yesteryear." So why don't we utilize "yestermonth" or "yesterweek"? Because it's stupid, just like the idea of writing to a worldwide audience when you don't have anything to say.

It's kind of like the comic strips. Have you noticed that what used to be your favorites just seem like newspaper filler now? I may be wrong, but I remember Dagwood being funny when I was a kid.

Speaking of filler, have you noticed that you're still reading, but aren't really enjoying it? This blog entry is like the sawdust in the dogfood or the pig snouts in the hotdogs.

Why do you keep reading? Maybe you're hoping that some great comedic insight is just around the next paragraph. Sorry, it's not.

Others like it when I spill my guts about the constant turmoil that's resulted from my life choices. These folks are likely hoping that the sputum of my regrets will be hawked up in this virtual sink. (Nice. You gotta admit, that was a good metaphor right there.)

Some readers only respond when I quote Scripture and say they can see glimmers of "the old me" in there somewhere.

You know what? The old me is pretty much the current me - just in a different setting. I've always been teaching people what the Bible says ever since I started learning interesting things to be found in it. I still do, but lately my opportunities have been very small and largely inconsequential.

Lately, I've been thinking of this whole thing as being like a powerful creature being put in a zoo. Think of the animal who lived on the African plain, hunting for its food, while trying to avoid its natural enemies. It flourished in that environment, because its life was being lived the way it should be lived. But put it in a zoo, where there's a feeding schedule, no danger, and no stimulation, and what have you got? Same animal, same potential, but no opportunity to display it.

Is any of this making sense? Doesn't matter. This entry is like the song on the album that you fast-forward through to get to the next one. And if it's a good album, that next song will be worth it.

Note: This one was so dumb, I almost didn't post it at all. And you read it anyway. Four minutes of your life you'll never get back. Ha!

Office Life

2006-12-05T21:02:00.000-05:00

Adjusting to life in cubicleville is proving a tad bit difficult. It's mostly culture shock - I've spent a good number of years having total mobility and flexibility of location and schedule. Now suddenly, I'm chained to my phone with the three-foot cable of my headset. Confined to the two walls and 20 square feet of my cubicle. All that's missing is the dumb pointy-haired boss.

Thank the Lord there's none of those here (my numerous bosses are neither dumb nor pointy-haired (and I'm not just saying that because this is a public forum (do you like my usage of nested parentheses? (I learned how to do this when I was a computer programmer (you also do it in algebra))))).

Office life in general is more difficult than other employment surroundings I've experienced. A trip to the bathroom (which thankfully frees you from the cubicle for a minute or two) becomes an exercise in how many different ways you can say "hi" to - or make small talk with - a guy throughout the day. Yes, there are 90 or 100 of us, but there seems to be a biological "schedule of need" (to put it politely), and so you tend to see the same guys on your visits.

At least the inertia of walking with a purpose keeps those conversations somewhat short. The difficult times are when you're a captive audience, trapped in your cubicle like a cornered animal.

Then there are the ocassional flurries of comedic quotes that grow old quickly. Steven Wright is the quintessential one-liner guy who people love to repeat. To death.

If you have no idea what I'm talking about, or if you really feel the need to join in to one of these conversations and have no participatory ammunition, here are some of my favorites:

- Everywhere is walking distance if you have the time.

- I was arrested for selling illegal-sized paper.

- It doesn't matter what temperature the room is, it's always room temperature.

- He asked me if I knew what time it was. I said, "Yes, but not right now."

- My girlfriend asked me how long I was going to be gone on this tour. I said, "the whole time."

- I hate it when my foot falls asleep during the day because that means it's going to be up all night.

- I went to a restaurant that serves "breakfast at any time." So I ordered French Toast during the Renaissance.

- I have the oldest typewriter in the world. It types in pencil.

- If you can't hear me, it's because I'm in parentheses.

- When I die, I'm leaving my body to science fiction.

- Last week the candle factory burned down. Everyone just stood around and sang Happy Birthday.

- In my house on the ceilings I have paintings of the rooms above... So I never have to go upstairs.

- I'm writing an unauthorized autobiography.

So those are my favorites. At least, they WERE my favorites the first twelve times I heard them. Now, they're more like sharp stabby things with which a child might poke his little sister.

(But sometimes even THAT can seem funny... if you're the kid doing the poking.)

So what is going on in my brain besides that? There is a dull ache in my heart that longs to teach again. But I know it's going to be a very long time before that opportunity arises, if it ever does. I often wonder if I'm already teaching my final study:

I used to dream about teaching at the Calvary Chapel Bible College. Today, I happened to get a customer that works there. It was a poignant reminder that many dreams can be put permanently out of reach by bad choices.

So in the meantime, I'm guessing I'm going to have to learn what Paul somehow figured out:

"Not that I speak from want, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me." - Philippians 4:11-13

Does God use Pain?

2006-11-29T19:38:00.000-05:00

Nothing happy, clappy, or funny to write today. Today's just too hard, too painful, and too alone.

In the ninth chapter of the gospel of John, there is a blind man described. This guy used to sit there and beg, because he had no way of doing anything to earn a living.

He'd been blind from birth. Imagine his torment throughout childhood. Being ostracized by classmates, or maybe even completely excluded from school. Even into adulthood, most believed he was cursed of God, either for his own sin or his parents'. And he probably had experienced his fair share of feeling abandoned by God.

I can relate. I've been feeling pretty alone since June, and for reasons none but one or two of you know, it's worse today than ever. Excluded and ostracized by all but a few. Even some who at first stuck by me and claimed they'd be my friends forever have bailed out.

But you know what? It's only been six months. Half a year. Just 1/78th of my life, really.

Sure, I can't imagine a lifetime of feeling this way, and can't imagine being able to. But the question is, "Am I willing to? Am I willing to endure anything that is in God's plan for my life?"

I think that's the key right there: remembering that God does in fact have a plan. There was a plan for the blind man, certainly. Jesus knew his torment, and said that his situation "was so that the works of God might be displayed in him." (Jn. 9:3) Jesus knew that his torment was coming to an end, and sight would soon be given to him.

Do I believe that in my life a huge miracle is going to happen? That like Job, my latter days will be blessed more than my beginning? That God will make everything new and better than before? I don't know - that's up to God to decide. If it happens, it certainly won't be because I earned it. But the bigger picture is that it honestly doesn't matter, so long as I can still say, as David did, "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me." (Ps. 23:4)

Chew on that for awhile, whydontcha?

Note: Several concerned emails within an hour of posting make me think that I didn't get my point across very well. This was supposed to sound encouraging, folks. My faith is strong, and not dependent upon my circumstances, no matter how long they last, no matter what God's plan for the future is. He is God, I am not, and I'm relying upon Him. That's GOOD, right???

You Can't Have Everything... Where Would You Put It?

2006-11-24T08:14:00.000-05:00

In recent years, I really learned to enjoy buying, wrapping, and giving presents to loved ones. I grew to see the whole process as one way to communicate love and caring. I would try to think of who the person was, what they needed, and what they liked. It was my way of showing I was thinking of them.

Of course, if I was at a genuine loss (as I often was), I'd do the gift card thing. Some people say that gift cards are impersonal and unimaginitive. But I like 'em.

Unfortunately, placing such value on the process inevitably led to disappointment when the reverse wasn't true. I found that over the last decade most people who gave me gifts based their buying decisions on what I did for a living, rather than who I was. Translation: I got a lot of "Pastor Plaques."

I've been thinking that this Christmas is going to be pretty unique in that there's no quick-fix on the present front. If someone wants to buy me something, they're not going to be able to just walk into a Christian bookstore and grab the first thing that says "Pastor" on it.

Since my new job has taken me far from family and long-time friends, I assumed my absence would alleviate the issue entirely. But the Thanksgiving turkeys haven't even begun to cool in the fridge, and already several people have asked what they can get me for Christmas. Drat!

It's hard to know what to say. Frankly, I really don't need much, since I've already accumulated most of life's trinkets and beads. Plus, as a bachelor in a one-bedroom apartment, I don't have a lot of room for stuff.

But to make things a little easier on those who are dead-set on sending me something, I updated my wish list for Christmas. The link is over there on the right, or you can just click here.

My address is 4680 Craftsbury Circle, Apt B, Fort Wayne, IN 46818, in case you've misplaced it.

In closing, if this entry seems a little below-par in comparison to my usual writing, it's because I really need to get going to work and haven't had time for the usual number of rewrites. Being late is the biggest no-no at the company I work for. The employee manual says, "There is no such thing as on time. You are either early or you're late." I love this place!

As a funny happinstance, I just received a text from someone in Cheyenne saying they're going shopping! Unless I'm mistaken, it's 6:15 in the morning there! Craziness! Have fun with the Black Friday crowds. I'll be at the office.

Note: Today's title is taken from a Steven Wright joke. Credit where credit is due.

Comedy Of Errors

2006-11-21T23:08:00.000-05:00

Okay, so this morning I couldn't for the life of me remember if my morning meeting was at 7:30 or 7:45. Just to play it safe, I got to work at 7:25. Then I waited 20 minutes for the 7:45 meeting to start. Sigh.

Two hours later, I clumsily knocked a bottle of water over onto a friend's laptop. (Fortunately, he had the lid securely screwed on. Whew.)

When I went to leave for lunch, it seemed that my keyless entry's battery had died, because my car door wouldn't open and I had to use the actual key. Interestingly, the interior lock switch didn't work either. Nor did the key when I turned it in the ignition. Turned out I'd left my lights on and my battery was dead.

After work, I went to buy groceries. As I braved the pre-Thanksgiving crowds in the frozen food aisle, I grabbed three Healthy Choice dinners out of the freezer. Unfortunately, the middle one slipped out from between the other two, resulting in all three of them clattering to the floor. I let out an embsrassed chuckle and picked them up, feeling terribly self-conscious.

Carrying the groceries in from my apartment's parking lot, one of my bags slipped of of the pinky I had it precariously looped around. Of course, the bag's contents happened to include a jar of spaghetti sauce, which - upon hitting the concrete of my front porch - exploded inside the bag, the broken glass slicing plenty of holes out from which the sauce could pour. The patio looked like a CSI murder scene.

Of course, the evening wouldn't have been complete without the rinsing of spaghetti sauce off soup cans resulting in shards of glass jamming up the garbage disposal.

Certainly, there have been times in my life where a series of events like this would have resulted in an outburst of anger or a sullen "my day is ruined" attitude. But like The Sphinx said in "Mystery Men," "Until you learn to master your rage, your rage will become your master."

Actually, he didn't say that, exactly. He'd been spouting predictable twists of phrase all day, so the conversation with Mr. Furious went more like this:

Mr. Furious: Okay, am I the onIy one who finds these sayings a littIe bit formulaic? "If you wanna push something down, you have to pull it up." "If you wanna go left, you have to go right..."

The Sphinx: Your temper is very quick, my friend. But untli you Iearn to master your rage...

Mr. Furious: "...Your rage will become your master?" That's what you were gonna say, right? Right?

The Sphinx: Not necessarliy.

What a great movie.

Anyway, the point is that while circumstances are often uncontrollable, your response to those things is always your choice. As Stephen R. Covey wrote, "Our behavior is a function of our decisions, not our conditions. We can subordinate feelings to values."

So, clumsy day. Ha ha, no big deal. It gave me something to write about.
And hey, if I don't write before Thanksgiving, have a great one. Enjoy your family and/or friends, and remember to thank God for them. Seriously.