Back to Basics

You know, I started posting on this thing because I wanted a way to disemenate my life's news to my homies around the world. That was a noble and reasonable goal, I think. The fact, though, is that I just don't take the time necessary to keep you people in the loop on my world. That frustrates me.

I'll have to spit this out rather quickly, which is sad, but I'd rather do it that way than not at all:


I'm leaving tomorrow for Owerri, Nigeria. I'm going on a little trip with Mr. Peb and sons. We will be spending time in some church services over there, and we will also be going into villiages to talk and pray with people. I am expectant for healings and the kooky/miraculous. There has been a prophetic word that we will be led into what will seem like a dangerous detour, but will turn out to be a blessing. Money.

Nigeria, particularly Lagos, sounds like a nutty place as I read about it. Sounds severely unpredictable. This is cool with me. The fact that it's the hot/rainy season (incredibly humid, swarming disease-carrying mosquitoes) right now is less cool. I hear the food there is really very good, which is cool. I also hear that you can be mugged and even murdered INSIDE the airport. That is less cool.

As you can see, Nigeria is a land of contrasts. But I've been hanging out with some of my South African friends today, and they ALL tell me that I will leave Nigeria as a "devil-stomping, prophesying madman." Oyez. They tell me "the saints there are dramatic and full of faith. Their worship will energize you." Yum city.

See you tomorrow, colorful guy on a costumed horse!

I'm SO down with variety here.

I tried the thing where I post from a phone.

Failure. Their gathering system didn't work. At all.

I tried the thing where you comment into a voice mailbox.

Failure. You don't want to comment unless you can see what the others are saying, too. Fair enough.

Now I try this bit. It just breaks it up a bit, maybe. Let's see if you participate.

Today, I am full of desire

What I want is the LORD's PRESENCE. I want to FEEL his nearness and KNOW his friendship. I feel like Rick Joyner describes at the beginning of The Torch and The Sword: spending too much time on principles and strategies, and too little time teaching HIM. Ultimately, I have to admit to being a stranger to Him, a foreigner to his presence and ways. I want to be taught OF him, BY him. I almost wrote that I don't want to be taught ABOUT him, but even that is rare enough. In truth, I DO want to be taught about him. Where are those teachers? My main question, I think, is "how do I come by his presence?" Bible reading for its own sake, for instance, seems to me an endless pursuit of religious trivia. I want the scriptures only as gateways to more of his Spirit and presence. As has been said by others in numerous places, I am simply too easily satisfied. When I stop and consider it, I know that THIS is my honest desire--to be with him. The fatigue I've felt in my work lately is not disconnected to the fact that I just don't feel in step with the Spirit. I don't feel to be acting CONTRARY to the Spirit, but rather feel to have been going it alone. The weight of talking about God or going about "his work" without his presence is too much for anyone to bear. I am in need of an encounter with him, lest I become cynical, embittered, or despondent. Jesus is rightfully called the Hope of the Nations, and he is what I'm hoping in today.

Jesus said that if you don't receive the Kingdom like a little child, you won't get it. Today I want to receive it with a wide open mouth. And I'm painfully aware that Jesus IS the Kingdom--there's nothing outside of His person and presence worth spitting at.

RIP, Funny Letterman

Top 10 Expressions that Sound Dirty but Really Aren't (February 3, 1986)

10. "Frosting the pastry"
9. "Shooting hoops"
8. "Jumping the turnstile"
7. "Checking your oil"
6. "Tethering the blimp"
5. "Sending out for sushi"
4. "Picnic on the grass"
3. "Quarter-pounder at the Golden Arches"
2. "Shaking hands with Abraham Lincoln"
1. "Windsurfing on Mount Baldy"

Learning to Fly, Baby

3 weeks ago I was at the Air/Space Smithsonian in D.C. I saw, not a replica, but the ACTUAL PLANE that Mr.s Wright flew into the history books. It was overwhelming. I teared up. Last weekend I was at Kitty Hawk. I saw the ACTUAL FIELD where it all went down. I wanted to wait until I go see their home and shop in Dayton (completing the trifecta) to write this post, but I just can't wait any more. This is too good.


Here's what I learned about these guys:

1) There's no flying machines without these guys' relationship. They said that they were so closely related to one another that they thought the same. Together, they rejected the theories of flight of their day (!). Together, they screwed around at something they loved until they changed the way our world works. Relationship was the platform.

2) To this day, the engineers and aeronautics gurus tell us that their most valuable contribution was NOT being the first men to fly. Watch this: it was that they DISCOVERED THE FOUNDATIONS of flight. The simplest bases of flight were introduced to the planet by these guys (who'd failed 1,000+ times), and that's what changed it all. Didi and I learned that ALL modern planes contain ONLY the elements of flying that are present in their Model A. There has been nothing new discovered since about the way to put weight on the wings of the wind. This blows your mind.

I could leave you to make the appropriate spiritual application, but I enjoy saying it too much to pass up: in the world system, those who perform the 'crowning achievement' are honored. Not so much the innovators, but the ones who bring the innovation to the masses. Those who package it right and, maybe with the aid of steroids, break long-standing records, if you get my drift. Not so in the kindgom. In the kingdom, those with authority are those who lay foundations, who 'go low' and do the small thing with a pure heart. These will be, as Jesus called them, The Greatest in the Kingdom. The Slaves of Everyone. God says, "Don't sweat the brass ring. You be about discovering and laying FOUNDATIONS, m'boy. Stay low and be saved." Try to discover what's beneath everything. Then plow there.


3) I love to imagine the anonymity (sp?) of that first flight. About 5 dudes trying to get 750 lbs of spruce and linen and aluminum off the ground. 12 seconds... 120 feet... then thud. Onto the sand. And there it is, folks. The town around them was unaware of what was happening. The world media was ignorant. But I bet those brothers winked at each other. Jackpot.

Zech 4:10 "Who despises the day of small things?" Hey human guy: Do you have ambitions for some degree of notariety? Respect from men? Respectability, perhaps? A "certain standard of living"? Do you entertain any notions about a style of righteousness that you could call your own? Hmmm? ... HMMMM?

Well, in the name of God, lay all that offal aside. See the greatness in the small, unapplauded thing. That conversation over the phone with your mom MATTERS. The email you've been putting off may well be a HIGHLY REGARDED ACTIVITY in the eyes of God. Raking the neighbors' yard might be the most important thing you do all year. Who despises the day of small things? Things that change the world happen in mosquito-infested sand dunes in view of nobody. "But your heavenly Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you." OOOOOOOHHHHHH SNAP.

PS- I nominate this as Most Inspiring Photograph Ever.

Truth In Unexpected Places

I love it when I find God content outside those who say they're talking about God. It's like the proverb that tells us to study an ant to learn about God. That's Bible telling me to look outside the Bible to learn about God. Psalm 19 kind of stuff.

My Chemical Romance is a band I would typically dismiss out-of-hand. They're high style and low substance, from a True Truth perspective. But, like the Arcade Fire Angry Guy, I wonder if these people are having dreams from God and don't know what they're seeing, or what. But you can't deny the power of this sort of thing. And the truth! My goodness, the truth! So here I publicize it for your benefit.



My Chemical Romance
"Black Parade"

My father took me into the city to see a marching band.
He said, "Son when you grow up, will you be the saviour of the broken,
The beaten and the damned?"
He said, "Will you defeat them, your demons, and all the non believers,
the plans that they have made?" Because one day I will leave you
A Phantom to lead you in the summer, to join the black parade."

...And we will send you reeling from decimated dreams
Your misery and hate will kill us all
So paint it black and take it back
Lets shout it loud and clear
Do you fight it to the end?
We hear the call to carry on

And on we carry through the fears, disappointed faces of your peers
Take a look at me cause I could not care at all
Do or die, you'll never make me
Cause the world, will never take my heart
You can try, you'll never break me
Want it all? I'm gonna play this part
Wont explain or say i'm sorry
I'm not ashamed, I'm gonna show my scar
You're the chair, for all the broken
Listen here, because it's only..
I'm just a man, I'm not a hero
Just a boy, who's meant to sing this song

History Makers!

These guys dream it up like nobody ever has before. They go out there and do things we have NEVER IMAGINED. They created NBA history last year with their decisive, take-no-prisoners,instead-BE-the-prisoners style of play in the finals, declaring with incredible will that they WOULD lose the championship. Who saw that coming?

"Nobody believed we could lose", said team captain Jason Terry, after the Mavs' monumental dismantling of their own game plan. "Sometimes you have to prove the skeptics wrong. We like to think that we put ourselves in an 'impossible to lose' situation, then we came out and did just that. Don't EVER tell us what our destiny is. We make our own destiny."

True to form, this year's never-say-die-and-definitely-don't-say-live bunch wants to make history again. An eigth-seeded team has never beaten a number one seed since the NBA (short-sightedly) made the first round of playoffs a best-of-seven series.

"Sure, nobody's ever done it", said MVP candidate Dirk Nowitski, "but we've heard that before. This teams loves being in a situation that everybody says is over before it starts. We love overturning expectations, shaking up people's perceptions. Lots of teams come from behind to surprise you. How many teams have come from AHEAD to surprise you? More than anything else, that's what we're about."

Hard to question the German 7-footer. He's not only making audacious claims with his startlingly ineffective play, he's backing it up with the kind of rubber-spined apathy required to do the unthinkable. So get out the record books, sports fans, and get ready to erase ANOTHER record: the 2006-2007 Mavericks are in the house.

In Praise of Wife

Today I want to brag on the old ball and chain. The old lady. The 'trouble and strife', as the Cockneys call them. Unfitting monikers, all of them. Maybe The Glorious Telescope would be better. I look through my wife and I see the expanse:

See, my wife, she is receiving, more and more, the love of the God Who Made Her Up. She is becoming convinced that she is well and truly Doted Upon by the Master of the Heavens. She is losing her taste for fashion and money, though she traffics in that world as a job. She sleeps more soundly. She's simplifying! Aha! She is becoming lighter and stronger at the same time.

When I met my wife, she was kind of TOUGH. It took some work to be trusted enough to see her laugh in an unguarded way. She came across as DRIVEN or IN CONTROL. She intimidated guys. And liked it that way.

She is now more of a dancer around the house. She makes up doo-dad songs impromptu. She is reading more, reading the scriptures to me and soaking on them. She is taking authority in our house. She is exercising her authority in the Spirit. She is doling out both grace and justice to the many women who instictively look to her. She is growing light and strong at the same time.

We are laughing more together than ever before. People who hardly know her are being priveleged to see the silly girl that it took me years to see. Her wacky, childlike sense of humor is sticking out all over the place. She's also more discerning about the enemy's movements and tactics. She's far less likely to let a lie sit, unaddressed. She corrects me with grace and love. She is laughing at the future. She's growing lighter and stronger at the same time.

I have been married to this woman for nearly 5 years now. I am learning a thing or two about God along the way.

Hallelujah.

He speaks to those he loves

God talks to you because he loves you. He’s trying to draw you in. Every message, every picture and gift from God is about drawing you closer to himself. You think God needs you to do the stuff he instructs you to do? He doesn’t (Isaiah 66--“Heaven is my throne and the earth is my footstool. Where is the house you will build for me?” Translation: Do you really think you can do me a favor?). He doesn't NEED you; he WANTS you. Ps 18:19 says "you rescued me BECAUSE YOU DELIGHTED IN ME."

I got the bad idea growing up that God saved me because I could do some really good stuff for God and I need to get after it, trying to do the stuff I was saved to do. Basically, I need to validate God's choosing me. I need to perform for him. I have to put out.

Sickening.

What I know now is that God's directions to me, even w/regards to 'ministering' to others, are just further invitations from him into greater intimacy. God expresses his gifts in us because he’s trying to romance us. He says, “Billy, this is what I’m like. I bring people back from the dead. That’s what I’m doing with you—bringing you back from the dead. I want you to understand me more. I want you get a glimpse of MY heart and MY power, and how easy it is for me. Go lay your hands on that boy and I’ll show you what I mean...” See, God isn’t looking for servants (he has a lot of angels who do a really great job); he’s looking for a Bride. He wants a Woman with whom he can share secrets. He wants a Bride who wants him for who he is, not for his money (or ability to save them from hell). He’s not trying to “use you to do his work”. He can do his own work much better, thank you very much. He’s trying to reach YOU.

I am not a fan of Veggie Tales, and I'll tell you why. It's too self-knowing, too wry, too clever. It's a great product for teenagers (and I really mean that), but as of today, I don't really want my youngsters brought up seeing it. I don't want them growing up savvy or clever or streetwise. Just don't. (If you show this to your kids, I love you, don't judge you, etc. Just telling everybody where my heart is today.) I want them to be pure more than any of those things. Moreover, that's what I want in ME... purity. I once thought being gullible was a terrible terrible thing (gullibility is always demonized in the world. Not being hep to the jive is a cardinal sin, as you're all painfully aware. We all felt that barb from one time to another, whether in jr high or yesterday. "You haven't seen EXPLODER!? WHAT!?!?" "Don't you know My Chemical Romance? You are OUT OF IT!" "Of course, slim cut jeans are where it's at! You didn't know that?"), but I now see that "love...believes all things." I want to be a sap. An un-clever, not-too-sopisticated man who really BELIEVES and really LOVES. Unsuspicious. Open. Not ignorant (that's never affirmed in the scriptures), but innocent of evil. Undefiled. I hope I'm describing this well. I want to be more passionate about the cleanliness of my conscience than being able to share in the funny moment from the Office that everybody's reliving (and I don't judge the watching of that show, either...). Violent films and sensuous television and gorging on Don Pablo's is just really falling out of my acceptable zone, that's what I'm saying. I have a picture of purity, and I think my Dad wants me walking toward it.

Now, I happen to: 1) really like the ethic that Paul Frank has developed around his work, and 2) be strangely attracted to this song. I know that the combination of these forces may come across as creepy, but I implore you to not go there. See simplicity and lightness in this. It's good for me to think on this.

Local Boy Makes Good

My pal Todd built this website on creativity called The Accidental Creative and you can click the title if you want to see it. Anyhow, he just got his big fat face in U.S. News and World Report! Come on! The story's at http://www.usnews.com/sections/business/index.html Way to go Todd! Kick their newsy butts!


Not sure what I mean by that.

Imparting follows Receiving

IMPARTING seems to be something that we can give, almost assign, to someone else.

Proverbs 29:15
The rod of correction imparts wisdom, but a child left to himself disgraces his mother.

It has to be something that WE HAVE. You can’t give away what you don’t possess yourself. What seems to happen is that we impart who we are to the people we’re around even if we aren’t trying sometimes. It just what’s IN US, and it gets on the people around us, just like evil stuff (bitterness, pride, etc.) will do as well. None of us lives in a bubble. This is why the scriptures are very directive about the way we’re to choose close "inner circle" relationships (Prov 12:26- A righteous man is cautious in friendship; Prov 22:24- Do not make friends with a hot-tempered man...; . Things are imparted, good or bad, all the time around us. The people we spend time with and open our hearts to ABSOLUTELY change who we are.

Ecclesiastes 12:9
Not only was the Teacher wise, but also he imparted knowledge to the people. He pondered and searched out and set in order many proverbs.

As we grow in this, we want to get more to where Paul was. He moved with intentionality to impart things to the people around him. He knew that he had gifts to give the church, and that he himself WAS a gift. Knowing this, he interjected himself into the situations he saw around him. THAT’s where we want to go (I Cor 11:23- "I received from the LORD what I passed on to you..."). “Somebody needs faith? Wait, that’s in me! I’ll impart MY faith to THEM! Let me get my hands on them and believe that God will take from me and give it to them (I can always get more from God)...”

Romans 1:11
I long to see you so that I may impart to you some spiritual gift to make you strong—

Not This Again

Eye roll.

Me, Droopy, and Sam + Neat Band = Mathtime Fun!

As I've mentioned in the past, I have a little theater about a half-mile from my front door. It has amazed me with its uncanny ability to get Gabe Dixon, David Mead, Harry Connick Jr., Patty Griffin, Branford Marsalis, etc. The 20th Century is a seemingly insignificant place, but it's been good to me.

Imagine with me, fair reader, my delight in having a couple of friends join me at my front door for a walk on a warm spring evening. It led down to that selfsame 20th Century because of a band I'd heard and read about. It ended inside, staring at these four young men for about 90 minutes. It was one of the best live shows I e'er seed. Their name, collectively, which they share among themslves but not separately, is Mute Math.

I know what you're thinking. "That's a dumb name for a band unless they do exlusively Devo/Kraftwerk mash-ups, in which case it's not a dumb name, it's just uninteresting music." I know that. But we're not here to debate their name. Well, I guess we COULD debate the name. But let's not. Outside of this paragraph. And the comments section; you could do it in the comments box if you want to.

Let my review of the show be summarized by what Jiff pointed out (he saw the same show 3 weeks later in CO): the evening starts with the drummer coming out and gaff-taping his headphones around and around his head. One thinks, "well THIS will be interesting." The band then launches into deconstruct-o rock, playing (sometimes) hooky music with a palpably unstable feel. The drums in their set were ALL OVER THE PLACE: that guy's arms have to be made solely of tendons. The lead singer played some percussion. The bassist often played the Cannon Drum, a boomingly mic'ed sucker that sat behind the drummer's head (the headphones came in handy there, I'm guessing). The guitarist played his delay pedal on a couple of numbers (that is to say, he laid his guitar down and just jacked with the effects on an endless loop). The lead singer played a gloriously un-cool Keytar (!), then some kind of homemade screech/scratch effect instrument that he then dismantled and let the audience play (with low levels of success). The bassist pulled out an electrified cello for a couple of numbers. It was wobbly, unpredictable, constantly-evolving excitement. And suffice it to say, this was the greatest small-venue light show I've ever seen. On the tiny 20th century stage, MM brought in, I believe, 12 MAC2000 spots (those are the ultra-controllable badass lights that all the stars use. They look like this:)

I had a great time with my hep friends Droopy and Sam. I was one of the oldest people in the joint. The show was also sponsored by those pose-kings, Scion, who were giving out blinking-light necklaces to really add to that RAVE vibe I so enjoy. I figured the best way for me to be in the moment was to turn mine on, and wear it around my neck all night, which I did. The cool kids were looking at me like "don't you know you're just advertising for the SPONSOR, man? It's not COOL to be a TOOL." My return look said "blinking lights are fun."

The 20th Century has disco balls and often, the young punks aimed their cell phones lights at them, so that we were all covered in shiny motion. I liked that.

So it was a great show and a great night. It has since returned to winter here in Cincinnata, but spring is threatening. Then we can expect summer to arrive about 4 days after that. Good times. Thanks Mute Math! Just work on that name before you get too big.

When it happens like this, it hurts

I DELIGHT (!) in musical artists I like gaining a wider audience. I love it. I will pimp Griffin House and Gabe Dixon as long as the sun shines. But OH does my heart drag when what I consider musical pablum gains ground in the cultural landscape. Ohmy.

Today's example comes to us from the moneymakers at iTunes, who're touting their Exclusive EP from... Matt Kearney. Holy sheesh.


His rising song is "Nothing Left to Lose". Me and Matt (and, presumably, very few others) were around in 1993 when 4NonBlondes, another terrorizing act that wiped up the MTV crowd, had their only (but huge) hit with "What's Up?" Matt's connection with What's Up? is that IT HAS THE EXACT SAME MELODY. Not derivative... SAME. This is... poor.

I will also state here shortly that I saw Matt at my little 20th Century Theater, and I felt SO BAD for this young man. I was genuinely embarrassed for him. I have no desire to get into a larger discussion about the rap genre, but for an acoustic guitar player (with a nice voice), his rhyme-talking made my mouth drop with incredulity. Many people enjoy this, it seems, but I do not. For me, this whole idea is unacceptable. But I am a songwriting snob, and I know that. I'm simply here to publicize what I'm thinking.

AND I generally don't want negativity on this page. I don't want to wax on about all the stuff I don't like. That gets us nowhere, and I'd much rather talk about the things I love and am FOR than the things I'm against. But this guy has come up in two conversations in the last week for me, so I thought I would just get it out there. Now I'm done. Good. Feel better.

PS- that same night, we saw Matt Wertz. Holy sheesh. I need to turn Gabe on again just to detox.

Another pointless post

This was too strange and random to pass up. I just happened across this guy who wants YOU to know how to make a homemade replica of a Stormtrooper's backpack... even though he admits it's not THAT close to the original. Bless him. Click the title.

Channel 23

The Networks are my shepherd, I shall not want the extended cable package.
It makes me to lie down on the sofa.
It leads me away from the scriptures.
It decays my soul.
it leads me in the paths of sexual insensitivity and violence for the sponsors' sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will enjoy that evil, for blood and cleavages excite me.
Its endless channel options and TiVo-bility with the touch of a remote, they comfort me.
It prepares a hilarious commercial before me in the presence of my wife and children.
It anoints my head with humanism and sensuality.
My coveting and fashion sensibility runneth over.
Surely laziness and ignorance shall follow my family all the days of our lives, and we shall dwell in our den, captive to Event Viewing, forever.

Oden Caught Smirking!

At least, that's what he said he was doing with this facial expression. According to reports, this is the face GregO makes when he hears a hilarious joke or some ribald tale.

Star Wars Nativity

I just had this idea today and somebody beat me to the punch. Whatever. I could make a better one. What's with the random sheep?

A free one for the kids

This is just lagniappe to make your day happier. This is a direct quote from an email I just received from Jiff, regarding his situation working for Old Staid Religious Institution, and a conversation that happened in a staff meeting about the 'young folks' he wrangles weekly. I think you will enjoy it.



...long discussion about whether or not it would be good for the people of North [the collective name of his 'alternative group'] to be involved in the big "Phase II" money-raising campaign.

I chimed in and said that I think our people are much more interested about sending money to fight poverty and AIDS in Africa than in building a building here in Boulder, for typical religious programs.

Our head guy (the "moderator") took affront to this and said, "I think the people of North need to realize that the world is a lot bigger than just Africa."

Thank you very much.

It's Official

I don't use my iPod anymore.

I store everything on it, and glad it exists for that reason, but by golly, I just don't listen to music through that thing. I don't use it in my car because I don't like starting it up everytime I get in the car, and I can't stand sitting there and holding the play button so that it turns off when I get out. It's just a pain. I use iTunes and burn CDs, and keep a handful in my car which I throw away when they get old to me.

I thought I would use my iPod on long car trips, but if I'm with people, I'd much rather talk, or use the aforementioned CDs, which are always sermoncentric on said long drives. I've been meticulous about keeping the iPod with me ("in case I NEED it!") in such instances, but have finally learned that I simply don't use it.

As for walkman-type purposes, I haven't used that kind of device since I was responsible for mowing my parents' lawn, when I would dig on some sweet Farrell and Farrell Jesus rock. I don't know where people use the walkman these days. I tried using it when I was running my half marathon and all that stuff, but the only way I'd do that is with my clamp-on, outside-the-ear speakers (keep that hard plastic OUT OF MY EAR CANAL, thank you). And my iPod was, of course, crazy heavy for that kind of application. MUCH heavier than my Walkmans ever were. The little tiny shuffles? I could do that. But I'm not plunking down $80 for my very occasional runs, where I think I'd be better off listening to nature anyhow.


So I guess that's it. My iPod is a really slick hard drive that just kind of backs up the CDs in my basement. So that's... okay.

Who Put This Chicken In My Nugget?

Here's fun facts for all you raging McDonald's fans out there (go on, raise 'em high!): your whiz-bang chicken nugget is 56% corn, and also contains TBHQ, which is a form of butane! Wow! Ingesting a single gram of TBHQ can cause "nausea, vomiting, ringing in the ears, delirium, a sense of suffocation, and collapse." Ingesting five grams of TBHQ can kill.” I say light em up!

In other news, this:

Robbed! by Innovation

USA Today is the Nation's Newspaper. It's in color, it's in graspable chunks, and it doesn't posture itself as being elite or intellectual (hello, NYTimes). It just gives me info in a headline-heavy way, which is exactly how I like it. Jiff likes to read stories and GRASP and UNDERSTAND; I just want to have a cursory awareness. People don't always like this abailability-to-the-masses. My friend Ric, who's a snob in all sorts of ways, haughtily calls it the McNews. He means this as an insult. Nobody likes what McDonalds is doing to the world, and he thinks that's what's happening with USAToday. I don't.

One thing I've grown to love in the past decade is how USAToday's online layout gives me the same experience: I can look to their home page during a meeting and get an overview of the Hot Topics in the news-watching world. I have detailed here in the past how much I loathe the news at large, and if I can get some idea in 15 seconds, I'm all for it.

Well, that's all changed. They're efforting being more like a video game. There are tabs and buttons and all sorts of hiddenness that's supposed to POP OUT at you if you hit the right button. I DON'T WANT THAT. I like the page because it's all there, instantly. Bang. Done. This peek-a-boo news has to go. This is a move in the wrong direction.

So if anybody has ins with the Gannett Co., please tell them to stop with the innovation. It's counter-productive. But we've seen that before, haven't we?

Deliverance from the Spirit of Aggieland

I have 3 colleagues who attended the Saturday games in Lexington. EACH ONE OF THEM, when they saw me separately this morning, did a varation on this routine:

Colleague: Hey Stevie, what's this? [begins to gyrate in a poor re-creation of yell leader movements, always including the "kneeling roll and throw", the "sprinkler dance from Can't Buy Me Love", and "two-armed flipping the bird" movements. Hilarous laughter.]
Me: Yeah, it's weird. [Keeps walking to a meeting.]

1) I'm including this image because it reminds me of the work of Benjamin Knox, whose art annoys me.
2) This post was created while I was on the john, creating something else inscrutable.

Tourney Time II

As you may know, Ohio State (the official college of the state of Ohio. Seriously, if you don't know this... I'm told that Columbus is one of the largest cities in the U.S.andA. without a pro team, and the entire city and surroundings simply roots for Ohio State teams. I have friends who went to Miami of Ohio, Michigan State, and even Murray State who just cheer for OSU out of birthright. It's like Texas' cowboys mania except on a stranger, more incestuous scale) won a barn-burner (where'd that term come from?) over Cincinnati-based Xavier University this weekend. I was at work when this happened. When I returned home, I found out that Didi and our OSU-loving friends had already secured airplane tickets and seats in the stadium for the 6 of us to go to San Antonio this weekend to see OSU struggle with Tennessee and TAMU romp over Memphis, then the supposed clash between those two beloved franchises of the NCAA moneymaking juggernaut. Okay.

Besides the fact that I have a job where I work weekends as well as singing in a WEDDING on Friday night, this is a great idea. We can show our friends some Texas hospitality, eat some actual (not pretend) BBQ, and see my parents. But see, it's those details called OBLIGATIONS and RESPONSIBILITIES that hang me up. Right now we're trying to figure out whether I should go early and see the Thursday games (returning for the wedding and my JOB), or stay for the wedding then rush out for the (supposed) Saturday game (and neglect my JOB).

This is what fandom does to people. It's weird.

Not that I have a lot of room to talk. Just last week, I shelled out four hundred and fifty smackeroos to secure seats to see the aged Police reunion in July. here's hoping the Steve Manuel Band's latest effort sells over 100 units.

In other NCAA news,

*CREIGHTON HAS A GUARD NAMED NATE FUNK.
*tu was exposed as the poorly coached paper lions they are. Durant slows down, the molasses flows.
*Kansas could beat the Boston Celtics. That team is scary (and look MUCH better than OSU).
*Did either Memphis or Nevada looked like they belonged there? Like a few other games I saw (UCLA, Georgetown), there was a frustrating sloppiness to the whole affair, much like TAMU likes to play until Law thinks, "This is embarrassing. I should just go score right now so that we can get some points. This team isn't that great. Luckily, I am..."
*The NCAA-approved ads are quickly wearing me out. To say that the Dickie V/Hooters ad is disturbing and weird is like saying Al Skinner's turtlenecks are an unusual choice. it's like those people are all trying very hard to act happy and fun-loving. I've never been to a Hooter's but isn't that place supposed to be kind of sexy and fun, like Las Vegas in the suburbs? Those ads look strained and extremely uncomfortable. I don't want to go to Hooter's. And I don't want to buy a Chevy. EVER. And I don't want to go to Lowe's because all those stupid fans might be there. That leads me to another story:

When we were in Lexington, it was fun to see Aggies and say "howdy" and "gig em" a thousand miles away from campus. That was kind of cute. But we also ran into the same abrasive loudmouths as you see on campus (...grind), and the same people who've melded their personal identity with the corporation called Texas A&M University. Man, is that weird to see in sports. Anyhow, we met a guy named Brett who'd branded himself as the TAMU representative for the state of Colorado. He sported all the gear (hat, shirt, coaches' pullover, class ring), Aggie sunglasses (?), and an Aggie bluetooth phone sticking out of his ear (doubly questionable). He was a self-proclaimed Ski Bum, but I like to think of Brett as The Aggie Bachelor: a man who eschews traditional family life and stability for the more elusive goal of self-gratification. It was... weird. Here was a fun exchange that happened between Brett and Didi:

B: Yeah, I'm Fightin' Texas Aggie class of '84.
D: Oh, yeah. We're from the nineties. See, we dusted off our rings, too, just for this game.
B: [addled, confused] ..."DUSTED OFF our rings?"
D: [feeling other, separate] ...Uh, you were in the corps, weren't you?
B: Hell yeah, I'd have worn my senior boots if I wadn't gonna do so much walking here.
D: Oh, okay.

And that's the fun of the NCAAs for me. It's the time when not only do two ravenous fan bases come together but, like during our time in Lexington, *8* fan bases come together. You're used to hating every fan in the hallway of an arena that's not wearing your team's colors, but at these things, you have to think a while before you react emotionally.

Aggie fan sees CCSU fan: "Hey screw y..." (Wait, you guys could conceivably knock off OSU tomorrow, right? So that would presumably make our road to the finals a lot easier.) "Hey, way to go Central Conneticut State!! Kick their ass!"

Aggie fan runs into OSU-supporting friend in San Antonio: "Hey congra..." (Wait. Though I'm used to supporting my friends, I know that we might meet up Saturday, and that Greg Oden will take a crap on the entire ATM frontline, who look good in Texas and Lithuania, but femenine next to national powerhouses...) "Up yours, loserville. Hope Conley gets scarlet fever."

It's confusing. Fortunately, watching approximately 15 hours of basketball this weekend has really helped me to sort it all out.

That's enough rambling today. I won't append this post with photos; it's long enough.

NCAAs

If you think I'm posting an awful, awful lot, there's a reason: my butt is parked in front of the tournament and it ain't moving. I'm more into this year's tourney than I've even been in my life. This is due partially to the fact that I picked TAMU to win it all and nobody that's seen that pick has laughed in my face. THAT MEANS THAT SOMETHING UNUSUAL IS HAPPENING.

If I knew that all of you were paying more attention, I would have much, much more to say about what I'm seeing, but I'm imagining my audience as being Jiff: marginally interested in sports, somewhat interested in my opinions. So I'll leave my report to things like:

*Creighton has a guard whose name is Nate Funk. CREIGHTON HAS A GUARD WHOSE NAME IS NATE FUNK.

*For the first time in my life, I attended NCAA tourney games yesterday. Me, Didi, AP and APWife drove to Lexington to see Louisville completely destroy Stanford then see the Aggies escape Pennsylvania with their pride dismantled, their confidence in their 3-point shooting decimated, and their hopes of Final Four glory in the garage on those 5-foot lifts, with everybody looking under the chassis wondering why this thing isn't running right.

*At Lexington, one of the highlights of my month was running into old friends Thad Norvell and Brandon Jones (especially Thad!)--it was a joy to run into a fellow Aggie in a foreign state rooting for our team. How sweet is that?!

*My bracket is currently looking fantastic. I'm 19 for 23 right now. I didn't pick VCU (but you gotta love that), but I did pick Winthrop, Michigan State, and Xavier, all upsets. I'm hoping Kentucky gets it handed to them tonight.

I'll not bore you people any more with this. Go watch those Hold Steady videos featuring Zorro again.

Ronald Is Experiencing A Dry Spell

I have known Ronnie Fauss for approx-imately 22 years. His opinions are enter-taining and his decisions are often unorth-odox. He loved the Rockets as much as I did in school. His committ-ment to Taco Cabana during college days at Baylor was renowned. His refusal to spend money when things could be had for nothing (say, the discarded chicken found in a dumpster behind Cabana in the middle of the night) is an inspiration to aspiring tightwads like myself. And it was Ronald's early adapting to the online post world that blazed the trail for the words you're reading right now. Having said all that, his page is wearing me out lately.

Ronald's readership often numbers in the 20s or 30s, which is sizeable, no? We all love his earnest reminiscences of growing up, his existential ponderings, his queso takes, and his cola critiques. We put up with his alt-country (eye roll) views and his affection for local bars. This is Ronald! We love the guy! What he's killing me with in the last couple of weeks is his obsessing over his tightest clutch of friends, 4 or 5 guys in east Dallas who play poker and who knows what else together. So his posts are all in-jokes, call-outs that could easily be accomplished by email, and lame in-talking about who's joining him at the next Mavs game and whether they enjoyed it or not. Where's the wit and quirkiness we love about the Ronald? What a waste.

Now, I'll defend all day long that it's his page and he can do what he wants with it. But it affects my life and this is MY page, so I'll complain about it here. It's self-concerned minutae, I know--but isn't that what these things were invented for in the first place?

So here's my plea to you, Ronnie: get your head out of your butt and regale us with odd stories of you dealing with people in the larger world, or tales from Accountant Cubicle World, or lambastes of Big Church Scenes. We miss you, dangit. And put your shirt on.

Hold Tight for the Hold Steady

Married couples soon develop a symbiotic relationship in many regards:

*I don't over-order at restaurants anymore, because I inevitably eat 33% of what Didi orders.
*Didi doesn't even CONSIDER what will happen to the house, yard, cars, etc., because she knows I'm on it. Likewise me toward bills and bankstuff.
*Didi doesn't want to hang around her family of origin unless I'm there, because I offer strength and objectivity where she's historically lacked it toward them.

Got it? Well, this happens with sleep, too: If one of us is exhausted and hits the sheets at 8:30, like I did Wednesday night, the other will inevitably stay up too late (like she did, THANKS LOST) reading or watching the teevee with its entertaining lights and sounds. This happened to me last night when she was asleep before I'd returned from rehearsal, so I stayed up watching the NCAA first round unfold (VCU!). What I'm saying is, when she's not around to give me the "NOW IT'S TIME TO GO TO SLEEP" signal, I watch the late night shows. Many of you know this already.

What I like it watching the late shows and their endless parade of obscure/up-and-coming/we'll-never-hear-of-them-again musical acts. It makes me feel a lot more in-touch than iTunes' New Music Tuesdays ever will (too much information, there--no time or energy to sort that out), and I like seeing acts that The Industry is tapping as a Good Decision To Put On The Air. Last night, for instance, after the games were done, I saw Cat Empire on Letterman (not great, but fun) and Golden Bear on Jimmy Kimmell (just not great).

What really gets me going is when I see an act that I haven't heard of before, but I love their stuff. This happened a couple of months ago when I saw The Hold Steady on Letterman and just LOVED their vibe. Older guys, been playing together from years, from Minnesota, now in NY, and have lyrics like:

she was a really cool kisser
and she wasn't all that strict of a Christian
she was a damn good dancer
...wasn't all that great of a girlfriend

Again, these guys are in their thirties. The lead singer, Craig Finn, does a lot of what I'd call Stylized Talking, which is surprisingly endearing to me, because I can't STAND the kind of stuff Matt Kearney does. Anyhow, I got their record "Boys and Girls in America" and really enjoy its straight-ahead, no-nonsense ROCK MUSIC (remember that stuff?): overdriven guitar, bass, drums, and piano/organ. Very, very fun music. This is what I saw and liked (keep watching so that you can hear the piano-led bridge)...


I'm gonna throw this in just because it's a cool video:


What the heck. Let's go whole hog. it's my page.

This Month's NBA History Post

Just doing my part to, once again, keep you mindful of the great moments in NBA history. A repeat appearance to this column comes courtesy of the great Akeem Olajuwon (and the one for whom this column was most likely invented):


Akeem Olajuwon's line from March 3rd, 1990: 29 points, 18 rebounds, 10 assists, and 11 blocks. That's what we call a "quadruple-double", and it's only happened 4 other times in the histroy of the NationalBA. This, however, was the most impressive performance EVER in that rarefied air, and "the Dream" is the only player to ever record two quadruple-doubles.

Mr. Olajuwon now runs his family's concrete business in Lagos, Nigeria. I think.

Same Guy!

This man can preach.

I guarantee you that the NAACP never thought it would be the transportation for the gospel. This is counterterrorism, pure and unadulterated. Delicious! Delighful! Marvelous! Wonderful!

Worlds Collide!

I kid you not. I was on Wikipedia last night, on a tip from Jiff, reading about Abigail and Brittany Hensel, girls that share a body (they look, in effect like a two-headed girl. Here's a photo:


That's not the weird part; that's just the setup. Are you with me? This is where it gets interesting. Anyhow, I'm reading about these amazing girls when I look up at the muted television and, watch me here, Jack Hanna (Ohioan) is on David Letterman showing him a TWO-HEADED TURTLE.

I was flummoxed. Then my head exploded. And replicated itself.

The Beurocrats Are Winning.

In case you didn't know this, here are some curious factiods I learned from my Hamilton County Court Clerk's office today:

- If you're getting your passport renewed, and you want your Passport Renewal to be Expedited, you can apply at the Clerk's Office. It will cost you $127 for the Expedited Passport Renewal, then another $30 for the Clerk's Office's Processing Fee (meaning, they talked at you while you were in the line, then stuck your stuff into an envelope), and (get this!) then the $14.50 in first class postage that YOU'LL HAVE TO GO TO THE POST OFFICE TO GET.



Correct.


You have to leave the Hamilton County Court Clerk's Office, go to a nearby post office (nearby=5 minute drive), purchase said postage, then return and hand that postage to a person who will affix that postage to what amounts to a $30 envelope you bought.

You can expect this $170 passport to be returned to you in two weeks. Turns out, though, there's another option for Expedited Passport Renewal. See below:


-If you want your Passport Renewal to be Expedited, but you don't want to pay $171.50 or wait two weeks for it, you can JUST GO TO THE POST OFFICE. The postage is $1.11. You will only pay the State Department $127. AND YOU'LL GET THE PASSPORT BACK IN 3 DAYS.



Ummm. Okay. Thanks for your help, Hamilton County Clerk's Office. While you're at it, stick it.

Same Guy!