walk without noise

Moving day...

2009-12-31T08:15:00.000-08:00

100 posts. I started this blog at the beginning of 2006 and have posted inconsistently ever since. I'll be honest and say that while I'm proud of many of the posts written here, I was always disappointed by the lack of discipline in which I posted. I started strong, lost steam and have been wrestling with how to get it back ever since.

I think I found the answer: My blogs tend to be long, and the longer I go without writing one, the greater I feel the need to write something meaningful. The truth is, there are a lot of things I want to write about that are meaningful to me for different reasons; some require much explanation and some don't, but I believe it all to be connected. And to encourage the pursuit of this connection, I've decided to start a new blog.

I will gradually expound on the why in the new blog, and there's even a post or two already there to get you started. From now on, my blogging will live at whitstiles.wordpress.com and I hope you'll follow me there.

If you're reading this, you've stuck with this blog and I thank you. You've allowed me to share my thoughts freely: some things that were true to me at the time and many things that hold true now. I hope you find your way over to the new one, and that you find a lot more to read over there.

Cheers and a very happy New Year...

writing in the sky...

2009-09-28T11:12:00.001-07:00

For the last week, I have been reading Pirsig’s thoughts rather intently. I’ve a ways to go and intend to discuss it at length in due time, but here, from this altitude, I can’t help but feel it is time for my own. He was right–windows have a way of framing the world, like looking into some moving photograph. I am a spectator, not a participant at this altitude, from this seat.

When the plane is surrounded entirely by cloud, you always feel like it’s turning, spiraling, or diving for the ground. Without the earth below, there is no sense of orientation; I get why pilots lose their bearing and disappear all together. The plane finally clears the cloud, like a break high in an alpine canyon wall, to reveal the valley below: fields and river beds, crevasses made of cloud like cotton stuffing stretched thin. Large nimbus puffs look like the great rust hued rock monuments of the American west. We still cannot see the ground below but this is a world unto itself.

I wonder what the clouds are telling us and wish I paid better attention in Earth science. I imagine the ground below and what the weather is like there. Above this cottony bed is a high mass of definition-less white and gray–no real shape to speak of but certainly the same type of cloud that bounced us around earlier. Above that, higher still are the thin wisps of cirrus, I believe. My memory tells me those clouds are ice, drifting through atmosphere reserved for spy planes, astronauts or something divine.

I’m presently disappointed by my inability to predict the ground weather, to read the clouds I have such a fortunate view of. I’ve lived my whole life watching them, often cursing their offerings, assigning personality and shape to them. Why this sudden interest in their meaning?

Perhaps I am tired of rain. All these clouds certainly mean moisture and Nashville has looked more like Seattle this month; I am quite tired of it. But maybe it is something else entirely. Fall is close and I can feel it coming. Every year I wait for it. I long for it. I have even prayed for it. Something happens as the trees prepare and begin their seasonal death like magic; I come alive. Summer heat sits heavy on me, less so this year on account of an insanely joyful summer, but by September, my heart and spirit grow heavy and ache for fall breezes, long nights on the porch and mountain air. It comes every year and I need it.

If I knew more about the clouds, perhaps I could see the weather ahead, read Fall’s fortune for a glimpse of hope that it is waiting for me on the ground below. I love Tennessee in the Fall.

But deeper still, my heart is wondering what’s ahead, looking for signs of the next season. Perhaps God sits over the weather, raising and stirring the clouds to write directions in the sky. Through this window, it’s hard to tell what is a picture and what is experience but I can’t help but look anyway.

Out of the Silent Planet

2009-08-19T19:44:00.000-07:00

Prior to the honeymoon, Sarah and I made a trip to Borders where I picked up this book. It is the first installment of C.S. Lewis' Space Trilogy and the first book I've read to completion in several months. It was a good feeling.

This book grabbed me from the moment I saw it on the shelf. Out of the Silent Planet. What a great name for a book! The third book also bodes well–That Hideous Strength. I really think a writer could spend their whole life trying to come up with titles that strong and compelling and I think they're right up there with books like Bonfire of the Vanities and The Sound and the Fury. But I digress.

The book tells the story of Ransom, a philologist who is walking cross country on his summer vacation. The story opens on a damp road, gray like ash and shining from a setting sun and fresh rain. Ransom, to keep a promise, works his way into the garden of a shabby home, only to find two professors, Weston and Devine, with whom he is professionally acquainted. The two men are clearly up to something, but before Ransom figures it out, he is drugged and rendered unconscious. Upon waking, it rapidly becomes clear he has been kidnapped by Weston and Devine and is traveling on a space ship, landing, after several weeks, on a planet called Malacandra. The gravity is less there, and plants, mountains and creatures grow like spires in a way the heavier pull of Earth cannot allow.

As you might guess then, Earth is "The Silent Planet". Ransom is perplexed by this name, as was I, but a few different characters put the pieces together. Without giving too much away, there is a spiritual side to the story, a larger idea that connects the various planets together. Earth, or Thulcandra as these characters call it, became a place where evil, or bent people thrived. As this progressed, Earth lost contact with the greater entity of the planets, becoming intellectually closed off and self-interested. Earth grew silent.

While I do not wish to spoil anything else in the story, I must express my attachment, in the wake of this novel, to Malacandra. Lewis paints such a vivid picture of an unfamiliar landscape and ecology, and probes the roots of the human soul and the divine consequences of evil. This is so much more than science fiction and I'm glad to have read it.

good morning from great falls...

2009-08-15T08:02:00.000-07:00

Hello there, it's been a while. This is that post that bloggers write after months of inactivity, in which I pledge my desire to update more regularly. Simply put, 2009 has been the craziest, most wonderful year of my life. Where blogging has typically been the result of a lot of free time—they're usually long, I'll be honest–free time has been scarce, and what time I've had hasn't been spent this way, but that's been fine with me. So, here's a post, but no promises.

It's August 15th and I just took a walk in 47 degree air. I cannot begin to express how good it felt. I don't like to sweat unless I'm doing something that warrants it, and while I love Tennessee, the summers really wear me out. As a wedding gift, Sarah gave me a replacement for this old blue Patagonia fleece of mine, which has been my version of Linus's blanket. I've worn it constantly for years, all over the world. It's been repaired by the factory twice, and it's wearing thin. Most of you who have known me know this fleece, and Sarah, in a very touching gesture, gave me a new black one for me to wear out during the course of our life together. Where the Tennessee summer hasn't allowed me to really wear it, this northern Montana air is perfect, so here I sit on my motel bed, window open, black fleece on, taking in the first bit of prolonged solitude I've had in several months; taking in, but not necessarily relishing.

I am fiercely introverted, easily exhausted by the constant presence of a lot of people and consider the time I have to myself precious. I shut down sometimes talking to people after a busy or long day, get quiet, glaze over; if you've known me long enough to know the "blue fleece", you've probably noticed this too. The wedding season, as you might imagine, has been exhausting; wonderful, but exhausting. Where Sarah and I had little time to really allow for much solitude, we replaced it with each other–hanging out, working out wedding plans, running errands, whatever it was. Before the wedding, our lives really started to become our life. Our wedding was amazing and worth all the work, but with every passing day, we longed more and more, not for our individual solitude, but for the collective peace and privacy of a life together. Now we have it, and two months into the marriage, it's hard to remember what life was like before it.

So here I am, traveling for the weekend in Montana, with the cool, western air blowing through my window, and I feel restless. Pre-marriage Whit would have begged for this, but now I honestly don't know what to do with all this time. I miss my wife...

While everyone of us needs to be alone with our thoughts from time to time, and while I know my inner introvert could use this time emotionally and spiritually, I am having to learn how to do this all over again. Where this quest for solitude was once the point, not only of this blog, but of much of my spare time, it has very quickly become a supplement to a greater point. I couldn't begin to explain marriage and do it any sort of justice, but what I do know is that two months of marriage has rendered 26 years of being single obsolete; I love being married. So here's to rediscovering solitude, but even more, here's to discovering the more perfect picture that now is my life. Cheers.

cold...

2009-01-15T20:39:00.000-08:00

We’re right in the middle January, the coldest night of the year so far, and the metro schools are closed tomorrow. I’m sure it’s because the school buses don’t have adequate heat for the kids, but it still seems irrational to me. Maybe I’m just jealous because jobs don’t have snow days written into the budget. Truth be told I love these bitter (in the Tennessee sense), cold nights; the entire winter could be just like this. I like to look at the moon on a night like tonight - it always seems brighter somehow, it’s light hard and crisp, like the earth gives up a measure of its darkness. A moon on a night like tonight leads a man to wonder. Tonight, sadly, I can’t see it anywhere.

It’s hard to believe two full weeks of 2009 have already passed. 2008 ended and the new year began without the first inclination that any change had happened. Sarah's and my wedding is only five months and five days away and we’ve been engaged four months now, yet in my mind, it still feels like something happening next year. I never really believed people who told me that life only gets faster and faster as you get old, but I think it’s finally sinking in. I can’t wait till June, it can’t get here fast enough, which is probably why it still feels so far away, but every time stop to think about how long it actually is, it’s much closer than I think. This is the year I get married and as I consider 2009, it’s the only thing I can think about.

Now this is the time in the blog where you start talking about resolutions. I don’t have many this year to specifically speak of. Most of them are things I don’t consider resolution worthy, just life worthy. I’ve resolved in the past to run and get in shape, but I’ve never done it and I’ve always felt guilty about it. This year something funny happened, however, and I all of a sudden started working out and now three months later here I am going to the Y every day. This was no resolution, just a decision I made one day and it stuck. I wanted to get in shape this past year (I’m still not but I’m working on it) and I really think it’s sticking because I finally entered a place in my life where I really wanted it. I want to take ownership over my finances. I want to memorize an entire book of the Bible. I want to be a better steward of my gifts. I want to practice and play guitar more, not just trying to maintain a level of consistency in my playing, which I’m not, but actually work to a point where I’m growing in my musicianship again. I want to write more consistently, shorter thoughts if I have to, just something to help me find time for contemplation in the midst of such a busy season. But I can’t just resolve to these things, I have to want them. I have to do them.

All that being said, I’m excited for what this year holds. Marriage is the most exciting thing I have ever had to look forward to, and I can’t wait to share more about it in the coming months. I really do want to do this more, the whole blog thing, but I’ve been saying that a lot of the last year. I’ve got some ideas for some posts coming up so please do check back and we’ll see what happens. For now, it’s late - sort of - and I’m tired and I think I’d like to turn the lights out for a few minutes before I fall asleep and see if I can catch a glimpse of moon. Happy new year.

rest...

2008-11-10T08:32:00.000-08:00

Work is a persistent fellow with no real regard for the needs of a tired soul. For the last thirteen months, I have worked at a computer and taken no days off that were not days spent working or traveling in some capacity. That is until today. As Nashville awoke to find its first frost this morning, I find myself in Portland Brew, a Monday ritual I practiced every week prior to taking my position at Griffin. I have missed this time. Most of my reading and blogging occurred during my Monday coffee (you can read back on the earlier years of this blog and note all the entries posted on Mondays), and it only seems fitting to write a bit this morning.

One of the reasons my soul is tired is the absence of the natural side of creation in my day to day life. The office has my back to our only window and in this post-daylight savings, it is dark more than an hour before I ever leave the office. I experience God in the falling and crunching of leaves, the running of rivers, and the setting of suns, the stench of dirt, and the chill of cold. Autumn is often a spiritual experience for me as God is reminding me that while summer’s fruits die off for a season, the soul awakes, hungers, and grows ever still. I miss this more than I miss my Monday coffee.

About an hour northeast of my parent’s home is a river called the Hiwassee. Winding down out of the Smokey Mountains towards the Tennessee, the Hiwassee has more in common with its western counterparts than most rivers in this state. It is wide and shallow with water so clear you could photograph the river bottom. Amidst the contoured rock, chutes, and tall grass Sandhill Cranes spread their wings and Rainbow Trout hide unless lured out by the chance of a meal. For years, my dad and I have waded these waters in pursuit of the trout, sometimes fruitlessly, but mostly successfully. The river lacks the management a great trout stream requires as the Tennessee Valley Authority has a vested interest in power production, not fishing, but for this part of the country, it is as good as any river gets.

Yesterday I donned my waders and boots and assembled my rod like an infantryman might his rifle. An artificial fly is a work of art, as is the knot that connects it to my line. Fly-fishing as a whole is an art form worthy and demanding of discipline in technique, patience, and love of the water. There is nothing quite like fishing from the middle of a river rather than the bank, pulling your fish in to you, only to release it in the water running between and around your legs. Today the water is shallow, no more than knee deep, and this means the fish are timid. For much of the afternoon, I work my line across the deeper runs in the river to no avail. The light gets ever lower and the hardwood-covered hills burn with the colors of autumn. The sun glares on the water, running wide and winding out of view. I don’t care about catching fish as today is all about remembering the creation I so seldom see. This time is worshipful; I am grateful for it.

Eventually the river yields two small Rainbows from the same hole, and the magic fly I tied on snags and breaks off on the river bottom. I catch no more fish and the sun sets, forcing us off the river in the last traces of light. As my dad and I twist out of the hills towards home, I feel rest in a way I’ve not felt in months. I pray this peace continue through the rest of this week’s vacation, and I thank God for the reminder that no dam can reduce a river’s majesty, and no office can confine nature’s glory. Cheers!

Who Would Jesus Vote For?

2008-11-02T14:17:00.001-08:00

In the last couple of weeks I have heard a lot of contradicting statements with no less authority on either side. The media does this every day, it’s how they make money, and at this point the media is about as realistic a representation of the ins and outs of life and politics as a pornographic movie is a guide to healthy sexuality between spouses. This is not about the media. This is about Christians. Some Christians, friends and prominent leaders will say that no Christian in good conscience could vote for John McCain, the war mongering, opponent-bashing heir to President Bush. Others will say that no Christian in their right mind could vote for Barak Obama and his deep liberal voting record and support of infanticide. I sit and wonder who Jesus would vote for, and why, and it seems as good a time as any to dwell on this for a while.

The politics of this country are divisive by design. Pundits will tell you that there is no riding the fence, if you are a moderate you are not a Republican/Democrat, as if all the values of a couple hundred million Americans can be split into two categories. Senators Obama and McCain tout unity as major points of their campaigns, but there is no option to vote for the middle of the road as when you cast your vote, you are aligning yourself with everything the candidate stands for. You cannot vote for Obama’s tax cuts without voting for the protection of partial birth abortions, and McCain’s energy policy goes hand in hand with his foreign policy. The concept of a melting pot turns into a dish of oil and water when we give our voice, and our country is the weaker for it.

Christianity, on the other hand, is all about unity. This is in theory, of course, as the politics of the Church, religion, have fractured and splintered the original fellowship so many times over you could earn an advanced degree in the study of it. Christians seem to be proud of their differences too, as can be clearly seen from the street looking in on the building or the sign out front. We are quick to tell other denominations they are doing it wrong, reading the scriptures wrong, presenting themselves to the rest of the world in a way that makes the rest of us look bad. Some Christians will even go as far to say other Christians aren’t actually Christians. This is a daring and dangerously arrogant thing to do. This was never the intention. Before being taken into custody, Jesus prayed over his disciples, “That they may be one as We are one” (John 17:11). Jesus’ desire for us is that we would be united as Christ is to the Father, one in the same. The Church is the earthly presence of God’s dwelling among man, but it often shows little of the character of God, and this leads to discord and disbelief. Freidrich Nietzsche once said, “I will believe in your redeemer when you look more redeemed,” and I don’t need tell you what he believed.

So if Christians are supposed to be unified in thought and action, why are we talking about politics? Why do we engage in the debates and self-righteous arguments over our decision? How can we be content to dehumanize a candidate in the name of our faith, yet turn a blind eye to the equal sins of the one we support? What do our beliefs contribute to the voting process? These are valid questions for Christians to be asking, and important ones to be considering during these times. But there is another question to consider, a question you might hear a lot of different answers to depending on who you ask. Who would Jesus vote for?

The Bible doesn’t say much about politics, and says nothing about anything that looks like voting for public office. Christians are left with no choice but to use their faith to form political opinions, but these are not intended to go together. Jesus lived during the occupation of a hostile government, an era ripe with political controversy yet he did not speak out against the Romans. Jesus chose to speak about spiritual bondage, and pointed people towards freedom through teaching, community, and miracles, but left the bondage imposed by the Romans alone. Pretty interesting, considering Isaiah’s claim, “The Government will be upon his shoulders.”

On one occasion, Jesus is approached by the Jewish elite regarding taxes. You know this story - the Pharisees ask Jesus if it is lawful to pay taxes to Caesar. Jesus asks for a coin, then asks the crowd who’s face is on it. “Caesar’s”, they said, to which Jesus replies, “Give back to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the thing’s that are God’s.” And that’s really about it. Jesus allows the Roman military to crucify him, and then he overcomes death and challenges his followers to sacrifice all, not for God and country as they saying goes, but for God.

Many times I have heard or read that if Jesus was alive today, he would certainly be an activist. I don’t think this is true, at least not in the traditional sense. Jesus would certainly still associate with beggars and homeless, prostitutes, addicts, cheats, friends and family, but he would not be carrying picket signs or speaking out against the war. Jesus’ mission was much more focused on the people around him, the people who would be at these rallies, or even the politicians themselves, but with no aspirations of political influence. He never petitioned the government to give food to the poor, or create programs for the homeless and addicts, and he never instructed anybody on how to vote, just how to live.

I am not entirely certain why we take politics and voting so personally. Perhaps the political process is the highest stake game of I told you so we have available to us, an instance where we place our pride on the line because when it comes down to the “proper” direction of this country, we want to be right. Both political parties have had their fair share of time in power and this country is still moving forward, yet we continue to fight very personal and nasty battles on our way to the polls. That’s pride, not objectivity driving the voices of the most powerful nation in the world. I don’t know about you, but that’s a scary thing to think about.

Christians certainly take politics personally too. It’s very easy to see how our pride affects the church - just ask someone who quit going to church - and it only makes sense that when it comes to a Christian perspective on politics, we want to be just as right about Roe v. Wade as we do predestination. Republican Christians want Jesus for president and Democratic Christians want the government to be the Church. If Jesus were alive today, however, he would retreat from political power and tell the Church to be Church in spite of the government. In other words, Jesus taught a faith and way of life that had nothing to do with the government in power. The Church is designed to flourish in a democracy or a dictatorship. This is an important thing to remember, and I cannot stress this enough. As far as we Christians are concerned, it does not matter who wins this election.

To revisit the question, “Who would Jesus vote for?” Honestly, I don’t think Jesus would vote. If all authority on heaven and earth is his, why in the world would he cast a vote for the authority of a man? Sure, each candidate represents certain things that call upon the teachings of Jesus, but only certain things, plus some other very un-Christlike issues as well. There are far more important and personal concerns for our Savior, things we should be more concerned about than the current political process, because whether we live in the US, China, or Iran, these things would remain and bind us as believers.

Now I’m not saying you should not vote. Paul talked about his Roman citizenship on several occasions, and it afforded Paul certain advantages in his ministry. It did not define him, however, and neither can our American citizenship. I say cast the vote for the candidate who you feel will do the most to preserve and advance the constitutional identity and purpose of this country. That’s probably the closest way to vote in a “Give unto Caesar what is Caesar’s” mentality that I can think of. We live in a country that affords us the freedom to practice our faith without persecution, but even if it didn’t, a government does not have the power to take our faith and values away from us, so please do not vote fearfully as if it does. Live your faith and values, don’t pridefully vote them, because even if the candidate you want to win wins, he will certainly let you down in the end. It’s just like Tammy Wynette once said, “After all, he’s just a man.”

new gear...

2008-10-19T18:58:00.000-07:00

I have an amp I bought on eBay and from the first time I turned it on, we were musical brothers. It's called a Divided by 13 (see the link on the right), a hand-made job out of LA in the vein of a vintage AC30 but with a lot more wallop and reliability, and it is an amp that sounds exactly like I always hoped an amp could sound. This particular model was designed and built for Paul McCartney's guitarist, Rusty Anderson. I bought mine from a guy named Brad Fernquist who plays for the Goo Goo Dolls. It's super cool, and incredibly loud, probably my favorite piece of gear I own.

Now before I continue, and I will keep this brief, there are three classic and basic types of amps in the world from which all others worth playing are derived - the 6L6/6V6-based Fender, EL84-based Vox, and the EL34-based Marshall. So you may be wondering, what's the difference? For the Fender, think of all the classic country, blues, and jazz guitar sounds you know. For the Vox, think jangly pop from George Harrison, to the Edge, to great chimey contemporary guitar work. As for the Marshall, we're talking rock and roll - Hendrix, AC/DC, and Led Zeppelin. Everything else stems from one of these traditions. The Vox-style is my favorite voice and probably the most versitile, hence the Divided by mentioned above, but a professional player should have all three to keep his bases covered.

For a while now I've been wanting something small with a nice tone that was quiet enough to play in my bedroom, maybe something with an old Fender-sort of vibe. It would be a step in rounding out the collection, but budget is short so I've been waiting. Gibson and Epiphone do a yard sale a couple times a year to get rid of seconds, overstock, and damaged product. Most of the stuff there is junk, but occasionally there are some gems that come through. It seemed a good time to find a practice amp and I convinced my boss to let me miss the first couple hours of work on Friday to stand in line. When I got there, I eye-balled this pallet of Gibson amps, probably the only pieces of actual Gibson product in the sale, and though I had never played one, I knew it was my best bet. The employees get in first, and they immediately went after the amps. I started worrying all the cheap Gibson's would be gone, but when they finally let the proletariat in, there were three left and I grabbed one.

I had no idea what I had bought, so I pulled it up online and checked it out. Turns out it's a hand-wired, 15-watt amp in the classic Fender vibe, just like what I've been wanting. I was blown away, and instantly worried that it wasn't going to work. Now, I'm not one to make a point of money, but this deal was too good not to share so here goes. The Gibson GA-20 RVT, which I purchased, sold new for between $1000-1200, and I bought it new with nothing more than a scuff on the vinyl and a bad but usable tube for $100. To top it off, this thing sounds great! As simple a thing as this is, I think God chose to bless me with this amp, giving me something I had been hoping for in a way I had never expected to find it. It's a nice addition to my collection.

Next up is the Marshall, some day. On another note, I really do want to blog more. Thank you for still checking in, and feel free to pressure me. Cheers!

An Affair to Remember...

2008-10-13T18:25:00.000-07:00

When I was a child, I prayed with my father. In a quiet moment, he guided me through words canonized in our Baptist tradition, and said, “Son, you just made the most important decision you will ever make.” On another occasion, my dad informed me of what he said to be the second most important decision I would ever make - choosing the woman I would spend the rest of my life with. I tucked this away in my mind, and much time has passed since.

A girl passed me in a hallway some two and a half years ago. I knew who she was yet I did not expect to find her there, in that moment, and she caught me off guard. Her hair was the color of autumn straw yet rested on her shoulders like silk. She wore thin black frames over green eyes and little make-up; her posture was impeccable. It took 45 minutes for me to introduce myself, which was quite awkward, and for several more weeks I would pass her, speak to her, and once tried to hug her. It was a disaster. Yet somehow the heavens smiled upon me and after a couple of weeks, we went on a date.

Over cups of coffee and tea, we became acquainted. We shared stories of our families, schools, dreams, and work, then we shared a movie and eventually dinner on a red and white checked table cloth. On a hill above Nashville our relationship began, and the paths we walk have pushed closer and closer since. She is life, she is laughter, she is warm and bold. She is a part of me.

Recently this part of me departed town for several days. Usually I am the one who travels yet on this occasion Sarah and three of her closest friends flew to New York City for a vacation. It was to be the trip of all trips, the chance for Sarah to do everything she dreamed of in New York. From scouting favorite movie locations like the castle in Central Park or the Empire State Building, like in Sleepless in Seattle (her favorite!), to dropping in on The Today Show and Conan O’Brien, to visiting great museums and Broadway shows, the trip was something to be jealous of, and Sarah was ecstatic. Sarah is a woman who loves to dream, and this trip was a dream come true in every way, and to mark the occasion, I prepared a little surprise.

Sunday morning I departed the house long before the sun’s tidal glow washed over the darkness. My faithful Honda led me to the airport, which in turn led me to the Starbucks in terminal B, and then eventually onto a plane. I sat down next to a sweet couple from Kentucky who had a son name Whit, and they told me all about their plans in New York. For all the times I have played my guitar to a crowd, I still get nervous easily, and their stories and questions helped to pass the time and calm my nerves. The plane landed, and after a terrifying shuttle ride I boarded a train. The day before, I told Sarah I was going on a hike, and that my cell phone would probably not work for much of the day. During that hour and a half long trip down long island, my cell phone sat powered off and burning a hole in my pocket. I would imagine my heartbeat was audible even over the steady pulsing of the train, and the city could not come quickly enough.

Eventually, I arrived in mid-town Manhattan and stepped out of Penn Station into this overwhelming sea of people and traffic. I had three hours to travel three blocks, and I hadn’t eaten all day. I knew Sarah and the girls were shopping, and seeing the myriad of department and designer stores at every corner, I became paranoid my surprise would be ruined, and I took cover in a Starbucks. Not long after, the fact that I had not eaten caught up to me, and I left the Starbucks in search of food. Five feet down the sidewalk, I stopped for a burrito, ate three bites, felt like I might vomit, and threw it away. I then returned to Starbucks, bought a smoothie, and ducked into a corner for a while.

Checking my watch, I still had an unbearable amount of time, so I headed up 5th. I stopped in the Public Library, but turned around when they were about to coat check my bag. Since 5 o’clock in the morning, I had clutched my bag like it was my last possession in the world, the reason for which you will soon find out about, and I had no choice but to leave the library. Just around the back, however, I found Bryant Park, and for a brief time, this narrow oasis allowed my sweaty brow to rest and my nerves to relax. Then it was time.

I quickly headed back down 5th until I was met by a doorman at New York’s most enduring landmark. The Empire State Building loomed 102 floors above me and twenty minutes later, I stood on top and looked out over the city. After all the nerves and anxiety of this day, I felt like I had conquered the building somehow, like King Kong once did, yet I had no beauty in my hands. I could only imagine where Sarah was and all I could do was wait.

Now throughout the day I got the occasional update from Lindsay, Sarah’s roommate, and for two and a half hours I waited on the 102nd observation deck until the last message came through. “We’re on the elevator,” it said. I stood and watched the needle creep towards number 102, and finally the doors opened. The girls walked out, and finally Sarah stepped through the doors. For a moment she surveyed the skyline until our eyes met, and then she stopped. Walking forward, I took her hand, saying, “There’s something over here I want to show you!” Leading her away from everyone else, we hugged for a while as the reality of my being there sat in. I reached into my bag and removed a small blue box with a bow. “I got you a gift for your trip to New York that I didn’t get to give you before you left, and I wanted you have it while you were still here.” I then got down on my knee and asked her to marry me.

As you have probably guessed by now, she said yes. The rest of the night was a whirlwind. We celebrated, took some pictures, called family from the back of a cab, and had an unforgettable dinner (not because of the food) at Tavern on the Green. We found coffee at a Barnes and Noble, and bought some bridal magazines. I held my new fiancé's hand as she walked barefooted through the upper west side, and we enjoyed the last moments of our incredible night in New York.

The next morning I walked with Sarah and Lindsay to the taping of The Today Show, where I had to leave them for my train and subsequent plane back home. It is my honor to say that Sarah Beth Moseley will soon be my wife, and that the awkward advances of a bumbling boy some two and a half years ago have never been so well rewarded. To the green-eyed girl with hair the color of autumn straw, I say thank you! You have made me so very happy...

lost in space...

2008-08-03T17:50:00.000-07:00

David Bowie wrote this song that made me sad as hell the first time I heard it. You know it, the story of Major Tom and his ill-fated trip into outer space. Everything starts so courageously, but as "Space Oddity" continues, Major Tom's space craft slowly shuts down and hope is lost. He tells his wife he loves her, then drifts into eternity in the ever darkening and cold expanse of space. It's such a lonely song.

I'm watching Apollo 13 on AMC, and I cannot help but think about Bowie's song. This is a different kind of story, though, a true story of one of this country's greatest feats of ingenuity and quick thinking. It's a remarkable tale of a time when the world rallied in support of three astronauts floating powerless in space. The pope led prayer for thousands in Rome while others gathered at the wailing wall in Jerusalem, and I don't know if so much attention has even been given so few people in the history of this country.

Stories of space are compelling. Nothing in this country's history gives me a greater sense of awe and hope as the space program. With so much of our country's attention devoted to fixing things, NASA continues to pursue dreams and do the extraordinary. In a lot of ways, it stands for our best, one last bastion of the American Dream that continues to dream. In a time where nuclear warheads sat poised on missiles, we stuck a man on a rocket, put him on the moon, and brought him home safely. Not to say we didn't put some nukes on some rockets either, but still, that's incredible no matter how you look at it.

It's pretty clear we take this for granted, even forgetting it's there. Major news outlets treat launches and landings like the local bake sale, or the World's Ugliest Dog pageant - passing coverage at best. We’re so busy pointing fingers at our government, whether justly or unjustly, that we fail to remember the people who daily pursue the impossible. It is clear we’ve forgotten, that is, until the bottom falls out.

I still remember the morning the shuttle Columbia disintegrated in our atmosphere. It was February 1st, I had an audition that morning, and my father called, the tone of his voice still present in my memory. He said he just wanted to call, that news like that was always hard to hear; we were both sad. The event was a shadow across my heart the entire day, and I felt like I had lost something. Remembering that day, it felt like a dream had been broken.

As I sit here on this couch watching the actors retell the story, I ask myself, When did we stop dreaming? When did our country quit pursuing things that make us feel alive? When did we trade our heroes in for binge-drinking actors and adulterous athletes? I start to think about all the garbage I hear about on the news every day, and all the fear that spins from the headlines. John Kennedy's words have long since been ignored as we continue to moan about what we think this country should do for us. It is quite clear we quit dreaming.

Driving in my car later in the evening, I find myself praying and asking the question, When did I stop dreaming? As we plan and plot the course of our lives, from grade school to high school, to college and all its preparation for the first job of the rest of your life, we settle into this linear model of living that will continue unabated unless we do something.

God never intended us to take the safe and prosperous way out, yet we live in a day where preachers teach and Christians live a faith that says the blessing of God is safety and prosperity. Christians grow richer and more complacent, all the while enabled with new tools from the church to cope with it. The Bible teaches the poor will be blessed, and that spiritual poverty is an injustice. This American church has turned their dreams into buildings, and attendance, and the injustice of it all spills out into the community around it. It was never supposed to be this way.

Watching Tom Hanks and the rest of the actors, I am aware of my own guilt, the physical, emotional, and spiritual safety I pursue everyday. Before I know it, I too am drifting through space like Major Tom, bound for an endless and lonely journey. I long to cast my dreams upwards to the heavens, just like some courageous men in this country once did. In the classic film, Sunset Boulevard, a fallen star famously responds to a critic. "You used to be big," he said, and Norma Desmond responds, "I am big. It's the pictures that got small." Looking through my little TV at a remarkable view of this planet, I am convinced it is not the pictures that got small, but rather us.

the sun shall set...

2008-07-09T21:16:00.000-07:00

Sand spreads my toes with each step and pushes into my high arches. I stop to drop my sandals and zip my jacket to the collar’s top on my way to the water. As the sun sets I feel like I am loosing it, never to see it again, and all my senses come alive as to remember always. My skin tightens and the hairs on my arm stand up in the brisk south Atlantic wind; my hair is a mess. I can taste wild sea and hear its rabid surf, growing louder with each step. The beach smells of sandbox, littered with pet droppings and trash. A splash of water shoots an electric pulse through my body. I am cold.

The entire group of us gathers on a rock for a picture, a last chance to document our time in this land of apartheid. The setting sun burns like wildfire into the mountains behind us, and we say our bittersweet farewell to South Africa. I feel closer to the sun here, for some reason, and I am sad to see it go. We huddle, snap a few shots, then wander the shore for a while. The sun falls rapidly below the horizon, and for a little while it is like the fading light stalls in a cold blue-gray. For a short time this evening glow lingers, and I negotiate the sharp rocks with my bare feet. We take some more pictures here and there, and eventually the last color fails and the stars take their rightful place above us. I have never seen these constellations in my entire life.

A sunset occurs every day, this final breathe of light and life after the sun goes down is something I can see any evening the clouds allow, but this sunset is perhaps the most memorable of my entire life. It hurt in my heart to watch the sun fade because this place was special, it was a hotbed of life, beauty, suffering, and the frail condition of humanity. I feared I would never see the sun set on this horizon again, I still may never, and it moved me.

You hear a lot about the environment these days. There is the threat of oil wells in the north Alaskan wildlife refuge, rising sea water, and polar bears damned to fall into the Arctic Sea. It is sheik to care about Mother Earth, and as the world goes “Green”, mainstream pop-culture has devoted tremendous amounts of time, money, and carbon to concerts from self-righteous musicians to TV networks for our billions of un-recyclable television sets. The evidence all points to an of era of people who love the environment because they were told too, like neo-nature Nazi’s marching to Al Gore’s drum.

There is one piece of pop-culture that makes me grin from ear to ear every time I see it. Discovery has been running this commercial where a number of their personalities sing this song - “I love the whole world, it’s such a brilliant place”. The World is Just Awesome, it says in the end, and every time I stop and think, “Yeah, it is!” I love this planet, and am overwhelmed by its scope and creativity. I’ve been fortunate to travel to some of the most extraordinary places in the world, and it has made an advocate out of me. I pick up trash when I hike, argue about environmental issues with friends, and have been jokingly called a tree-hugger on many occasions, even though I am nowhere near the the woodsman people seem to think I am. Some of the greatest spiritual revelations of my entire life have happened in the less-touched parts of creation, and I am grateful for these things.

But it doesn’t take long to be reminded of how not awesome the world can be. There are are the obvious human issues of poverty and disease, war, terrorism, and grave abuses of human rights. The Earth itself is groaning under the feet of mankind. Think of all the rivers you wouldn’t be caught dead in, landfills full of our excess, and the fact that extinction rates among wildlife is at an all-time high. Whether it’s because of carbon emissions or the ambiguous “warming trend” critics of global warming refer to, the Earth is getting warmer. Ice caps will melt, flooding the costal cities where billions of people live. Deserts will expand, bringing famine, poverty, war-lording, and even graver human rights violations the world over. We are in a state of emergency, and governments and people buzz with ideas and solutions.

For all the spiritual experiences I have had in creation, I consider what is the Christian stake in all this environmental stuff. I’ve heard it both ways, those who think it is Biblical to protect the environment, and those who don’t. I am angered by the believers who say it is pointless to protect the planet because it is all going to be destroyed anyway. It is an easy step as Christians from debunking environmental initiatives to looking at the world with our “hell in a hand-basket” style of judgement. Such believers will inevitably retreat into their own sheltered world out of fear, only for it to be destroyed as well. This simply does not work. After all, Paul writes in Romans, “From the creation of the world His invisible attributes, that is, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what He has made.” God’s essence is seen since the beginning of creation, before man was ever made. Not only are we made in God’s image, but the Earth itself carries secrets of God’s divinity. The secular world gets it, even though they do not know it, and all the while we poke fun.

So what does this mean for us Christians? A guy spoke at my church Sunday about just this, and in short, he pleaded the case that God’s creation is a tremendous tool sharing Christ to non-believers. God’s glory is so clearly displayed through the intricacies of creation and speaks volumes to the receptive heart. An environmental initiative is a means of pointing people towards God. It is not the only way to do this, but a valuable and inescapably present asset never the less. We would never take a portrait of Jesus off a wall in our church and walk on it, and while Christ is Lord over creation, we should not flippantly march all over the planet with careless dominion, but rather with faithful stewardship. This is an act of worship.

On that night in Noordhoek, South Africa, God spoke his peace to me. “I’m right here,” He was saying. “This is of me, I am in this. I know what I’m doing.” My perch on that tiny rock was a window to the spiritual world present the whole earth over. Spiritually, we are children of a dawn, the fresh and renewing promise of Christ’s redemption from sin. I cannot, however, help but see this sunset as a metaphor for the natural world. Man’s ambition has brought the sunset, and as the light fades on this physical earth, I wonder if we are now in the blue-gray evening glow of natural life. God will restore the Earth one day, correcting all the damage we have done, but until that day comes, we must be faithful to conserve this incredible gift, broken it may be.

table

2008-06-30T11:34:00.000-07:00

A brief break from work and dash to the far coast, I sit with my elbow hanging over the isle on my fourth flight in less the 24 hours. This is the very meaning of illogical, a hundred and fifty people in a fiberglass tube hurtling forty thousand feet through the air at five hundred miles an hour. The physics is bewildering yet I am more likely to die behind the wheel of my Honda. Windows have been elusive this trip and I’ve hardly seen the ground. All the mountains of California and Colorado pass below without so much as a hello.

It was an exciting trip though. I had the chance to play guitar for an artist I greatly admire for her wisdom and sincerity. Her father has always told her that when she opens her mouth, she allow the spirit to fill it, boldly proclaiming the works of the Lord in song. This is a charge she carries out with humility, and I was blessed to be involved.

We went to Saddleback, a massive church in Orange county best known for its mega-best selling pastor. The event was a conference for worship leaders from as far away as Japan, a time for the potentially stretched and exhausted to be filled. I know that feeling too well, and it is a privilege to be a part of something like this.

I don’t play a lot of gigs these days, and I look forward to them when they come. This particular gig was a great opportunity to work with someone new and I was unusually nervous. That’s not to say I don’t get the usual pre-show jitters, but this was different. The band had been told we needed to be perfect, and while I pursue perfection in my playing, I have never been told up front that it had to be. With every day that passed and every listen through the songs, I grew increasingly nervous and a stone formed in my belly, ever expanding and growing heavy.

In Luke 14, Jesus has dinner with a group of Pharisees and teachers in the home of a prominent leader. While there, he shares a parable about a wedding feast, telling those in attendance that it is better to not sit in a place of honor, for if someone more distinguished than you were to come along, you might be asked to move. Such an occurrence would be humiliating. Jesus teaches, rather, to sit at the end of the table, in a place of humility, so that the master might invite you to move to a seat of honor. The proud humiliated and the humble exalted, I have long feared being the proud.

A day or two ago I was reading my way through Psalms and came to number 23. It is one of those pieces of scripture that makes you stop for a moment, like how your eyes might stop on a book you’ve read in the middle of a shelf filled with others you haven’t. David writes so romantically about his God and shepherd, and I am struck by how simple and elegant this poem is. In the last verse, David speaks of a table, possibly a banquet table, prepared for a feast “in the presence of his enemies.” David is basically saying that while the shepherd guards and protects him, God also seeks to bless and honor David while humiliating the proud and wicked. I would imagine David’s seat at this table would be quite close to the master’s.

Having read both passages near each other, I was struck by the parallel of the two tables. The scriptures, like any great work of literature, do not repeat imagery thoughtlessly and in the face of this coming gig, I began to pray that I come humbly to the table God has prepared for me. I know in faith that God will honor the humble pursuit of the gifts He’s given and I dwelled on this idea for a while. But what of my enemies? The nerves, questions, and worry over the coming gig made it quite clear who the enemy was.

Much of my life has been spent fighting myself. The petty insecurities, the self-imposed confusion, silent and public fears, it has all been there at some point. Brennan Manning, in one of his books, refers to, “The Impostor”, the false-self capable of taking over our lives. Eventually the impostor will remove all memory of the true self, most people never being aware they have made this transformation. I have lived as the impostor, and in these times, I feel like I still do. All the while, the true self, the man God has already created me to be, sits bound in captivity and out of thoughts. As I read the words of David, I know full well that these fears and insecurities are my enemy.

The morning of the gig, I sat on my hotel bed with the window open and the cool Californian breeze blowing through. I turned to the next Psalm, number 24, and realized it was the source scripture, almost word for word, for a song we were going to perform later in the day. I paused for a moment and considered the timing, the fact that I had started in Genesis close to 8 months ago and that every day I did or did not read my Bible led me to reading this particular section on this particular day. Encouragement overwhelmed me and I felt no nerves for the rest of the day. Aside from my in-ears breaking on the first song, the gig went great. For all my anxiety, it felt like I’d played that gig a hundred times before. My table had been prepared, indeed.

Today I consider the impostor. So many of David’s songs and poems speak of these ever relentless foes bent on his destruction, and I wonder how many were flesh and how many were spirit. The battle of my life has certainly been my spirit and the forces inside me that seek to undo me. I know this is dramatic, but I am amazed (not in the good way) that I am 25 years old and still struggle with fear and insecurity. My identity gradually aligns with the insecurity and before I know it, I am lost in it. I could never count the number of times I’ve performed in front of an audience, or the occasions in which I’ve opened myself up to another person, yet so often it feels like the first time I’ve done it. It is an amazing path I have traveled, and as I sit on the plane, flying high over the midwest, I know there is a long way to go, yet I am reminded still of the good shepherd. The impostor and I have more battles to fight, but God is faithful and his work has already been done.

I Read the News Today, Oh Boy...

2008-06-17T19:45:00.000-07:00

A landmark occasion was all over the news today as the state of California began issuing marriage licenses to gay couples. It was a “victory for humanity” in those approximate words according to the mayor of San Francisco, and the media was a flutter with stories of long-expectant couples eagerly awaiting this day. The centerpiece of the spot on NPR this morning focused on a lesbian couple in their 80’s who have been together for over 50 years. They were the first couple to be wed under the new law, and their frail voices expressed relief. Family surrounded them and they celebrated.

No piece of controversial reporting would be complete without a trip to the other side, however, and the news team soon found their way to the protesters gathered around city hall. One man was introduced as a “born again Christian”, that all too immediate “I’m with Pat Robertson” tag, and he quickly explained that he believed God would bring destruction upon this country for the things that are happening. NPR is my primary news source, and their bias was quite obvious this morning. The voice of the Christian majority, preaching condemnation and destruction.

I once wrote the question a while back, and you can dig for it if you want to, “can you legislate morality?” This is not a blog about gay marriage, I’m not going there, but this is a matter of politics. You see, the man on NPR this morning, with his picket sign and sharp words, was lobbying the political process to uphold his Christian morals. We as Christians in America do this all the time, seeking protection from the imminent cultural implosion taking place around us. Protect us from criticism, protect us from liberalism, save our babies, and keep our teenagers virgins. We place God on our side and vote from our pews; we grow complacent. How little we understand the plight of the millions of Christians operating the world over, not only without government protection but under open persecution of the very institution designed to protect them. It is not the government’s job to protect our morals, but it is our job to uphold our own.

The conservative right is not the only side to do this. I am a member of a generation alienated by the church and bitter because of it. The church as we knew it has become an enemy and so many young Christians have made the swing to the left in the name grace and justice. The gospel of Christ is transformed into a liberal political agenda as we lobby the government to take up the fight against poverty, homelessness, hunger, health, and global justice. I am guilty of this liberal swing and I, along with so many others, have turned to my government to do the dirty work I find so daunting. These are good things, Biblical things, issues close to the heart of Christ, but they are not the government’s job.

I had breakfast with a friend this morning, and we talked about the Declaration of Independence. He is a seminary student, quite smart, and he explained that close examination of this document does not point to a nation founded on Christian principles but rather deistic, almost universalist beliefs. Further study of the founding fathers would also indicate that many, such as Thomas Jefferson himself, followed in this universalist mindset, though I had long believed our founders to be devoted Christ followers. Our government protects the right to practice religion, but it does not protect the rights of one over any others. We Christians in America have long lived like it has. It shows in the way we have sheltered ourselves in our churches, and called upon our leaders to look after us. As the world burns around us, we roast marshmallows.

I think it is a dangerous thing for the government to legislate religious morality, though it is essential it legislate fundamental morals. Human life is valuable and murder is a crime. I am also of the opinion that abortion and the death penalty are no different. Basic human life, period. But what about a day like today? As I listened to the piece, it was obvious the elderly women being interviewed loved each other, but in my heart of hearts I believe their relationship to be sinful. What do I do with this?

This afternoon the same news service reported that over 25 million people are currently living as refugees under the protection of the United Nations. Floods rock the Chinese provence devastated by a massive earthquake only a month ago, and the rains are not suspected to subside for another ten days. Hundreds of thousands are dead and displaced by a massive cyclone in the nation of Myanmar, and their wicked government works to tie the hands of global relief organizations desperate to help the victims. Even on our own soil, nearly 90% of the counties in Iowa have been declared disaster areas as flood waters continue to rise. What do I do with this?

The honest answer is that I do not know. Would Jesus hold a picket sign on the streets of San Francisco? I doubt it, but I am certain he would oppose gay marriage. In spite of this, I am also certain he would have friends in the gay community, and he would be very good at loving them. Would Jesus have petitioned the government to feed the poor around him or provide social services to the homeless, prostitutes, and drug addicts? Probably not. Jesus showed little patience or interest in the function of government, but instead he dwelled with the vagabonds, loved and transformed them, even though the religious people around called him a “drunkard”.

To the Pharisees, it was Israel versus the world and like them we point our fingers and walk our picket lines. But to Jesus, we were all children of God with no more of this "us and them" garbage. He lovingly urged others to sin no more, and to take up the cause of the poor and the widow.

These thoughts consume me as I look towards November, and I consider what is important. I have no wisdom compelling me to where to assign my voice at the polling station, and in this era of the shallow entertainment we call news media, the issues are as lost to me as all the toiletries I’ve left behind in hotel bathrooms over the years. Yet I am entirely certain of one thing - conservative or liberal, it is time we stop hiding behind our government, and quit counting on them to do the job Christ died for us to do. To trust our government to uphold our morals and be the hands and feet of Christ is to sell God and the power he has generously bestowed to us, his people, through his Spirit so very short.

May God dispel the fear that drives my complacency, and forgive my shallow faith, for my sin so graciously forgiven was just as worthy of destruction as that of those we so bitterly speak against. Gay, genocidal, infanticidal, adulterous, war mongering, greedy, and prideful - we are all born equals.

his iron heart...

2008-06-04T20:50:00.000-07:00

I carry a curse with words in that while I love to read, and enjoy a good conversation as much as the next guy, I am doomed to loose it, to forget it. My reading comprehension is pitiful, having to read and re-read passages in books just to remember them, and I cannot repeat anything heard without jumbling the words or forgetting it all together. Sarah can remember entire conversations, and lines from movies and shows she saw years ago. She is an ever patient reminder that I am a hopelessly visual person. For this reason, I am grateful for movies.

I just got home from seeing "Iron Man" and it was fantastic! A completely enjoyable and exciting movie, free of any cheesy lines (what was intended to be funny was actually funny), and the cast was terrific. Probably about the best "super hero" movie I have ever seen. The movie was good because the story had depth, a story about figuring out who you are, and living with the things you've done. It is a story of injustice and war. The most remarkable part of the story for me though, and forgive my ignorance all you fan boys, comes in the source of the hero's power. This may be fantasy, but bare with me for a minute.

Tony Stark is a brilliant scientist, engineer, and weapons designer who is captured by terrorists seeking to enlist his services. In his capture, he is sprayed with shrapnel, and a doctor, also in captivity, attaches an electro-magnet to his chest to keep the shrapnel from working its way into Stark's heart. Seeing the limitations of the attached car battery that feeds it, Stark finds a new way to power the magnet and sustain his life through a small, chest-mounted reactor of his own design. Instead of making weapons for the terrorists, Stark builds an iron suit, powered by this new invention and escapes. As Stark returns to society, he is touched by the delicacy of life and the terrible cost of war.

This is a story about what drives us, about what makes us strong in our weakness. In the unrealistic source of Iron Man's power we see the delicacy of the heart, that we are driven by more than pure mechanics and biology. For every bit as real the heart is, beating inside our chests, there is a metaphorical heart that for those who feel it, keeps the physical heart beating. We derive passion from it, endurance, motivation, and excitement. It feels pain, weathers turmoil, clinches in sadness, and moves with love.

I am often aware of my heart when I am anxious. It is as if a cord is pulling it deep into my chest. Anxiety rears its ugly head at the most inopportune times, when I hold a guitar, when I write these words, when I find myself on the verge of vulnerability. At my best I do not know this.

It works the other way too. Just the other night I was in my car during the last hours of daylight. The sky was electric blue like a tropical cocktail, blanketed with with thin strips of cloud colored and textured like ceiling insulation. The blue and pink were the only two colors in the sky, set in hard opposition. The voice on my radio repeated, "Your love is strong," and my heart expanded in my chest. Where anxiety makes my heart sink, joy could make it explode. This is the heart meant to endure. All the while the other heart, the finite heart, beats.

The point comes, as it does in all good hero stories, where the protagonist's strength fails and everything hangs on the brink. Iron Man is driven beyond his abilities, and his artificial heart begins to fail. Without spoiling anything, we are given a glimpse into the the true strength of Tony Stark's heart. It is a moment seldom found in a big summer blockbuster. I love a good movie because it inevitable gets my mind going. As I sit and consider the heart, I'm thinking $8.50 is a small price to pay.

Cheers!

sarah in cyber space!

2008-06-02T19:02:00.000-07:00

I met a girl with hair like the autumn sun, and I wanted to know her better. Awkward flirting and coy conversation would follow, and come to find out she's terribly sweet, perceptive, and absolutely hilarious like no one I know. She's also my best friend. Lucky for you, she's starting a new blog!

Sarah is an extrovert, a great thinker, and a keen photographer. Her blog will be an extension of all these with an over-arching sense of deep spirituality. So check it out over on the right here! Her old blog is linked too, and while small in number, the posts are worth reading if you haven't.

It's good to have you back in the blog-o-sphere, Sarah! Been a long time coming...

a long time coming...

2008-05-17T21:25:00.000-07:00

I've mentioned on this blog before that I like Radiohead a great deal. My esteem for the band has only grown, from the first listen through OK Computer, to skipping class for Kid A, to the band's recent In Rainbows and I must tell you a story.

I graduated from high school the same year Radiohead's Kid A was released. The band toured the US and my best friend Hunter bought us tickets for my graduation. The closest show was in DC and we jumped into Hunter's 4Runner and headed north for a 12 hour drive. Upon reaching the Bull Run battle field where the show was being held, we saw one flash bulb construction sign after another telling us the Radiohead show had been canceled. We pounded fists against the dash, cussed, and turned around and drove home. 12 hours home to be exact.

That was seven years ago and I have never had the chance to see Radiohead again until this past Wednesday in St. Louis. Despite the frustration of the drunken frat boys all over the lawn, the two plus hours of music was probably the best and most inspiring concert experience of my life. The light show was stunning, the set list was terrific, and the band is simply flawless live. All the sonic complexity of their records translates with ease as the five members of the band have always worked hard to not leave any important, studio-made detail behind. The band's core three guitar, bass, and drum format saw both Thom and Johnny spending ample time behind the Rhodes or piano, Johnny operating any number of analog synths to reproduce much of the more peculiar sonic textures. Even Ed, the band's only dedicated guitar player set his guitar down to manipulate various floor-mounted effects.

With over two hours of music, they played every song off In Rainbows, including "Bangers & Mash" from the bonus disk, as well as at least 2 songs from every other album but their first, Pablo Honey. Highlights of the show range for the three guitar onslaughts of "Airbag", "My Iron Lung", and "Paranoid Android", to the largely programming-based "The Gloaming", to "There, There", a point in the show where only Thom played guitar, and Ed and Johnny both picked up sticks and played percussions. As a whole, the band communicated a tremendous love for live music and a deep appreciation for their fans. Thom cracked jokes from the stage and they all graciously waved and bowed to crowd at numerous points; one of the best bands in the world, living up to their reputation and with no pretension. It was a long time coming.

Anyway, for you fans, here's the setlist. Maybe put together a little playlist and enjoy!

All I Need
Jigsaw Falling Into Place
Airbag
15 Step
Nude
Kid A
Weird Fishes/Arpeggi
The Gloaming
You and Whose Army
Idioteque
Faust Arp
Videotape
Everything in Its Right Place
Reckoner
Optimistic
Bangers & Mash
Bodysnatchers

Encore 1
Exit Music (For a Film)
Myxomatosis
My Iron Lung
There There
Fake Plastic Trees

Encore 2
Pyramid Song
House of Cards
Paranoid Android

Cheers!

a weekend at the movies...

2008-03-30T19:21:00.000-07:00

Friday evening came with the sweet promise of a weekend with nothing to do. It feels like ages since I've had a weekend like this, and what a welcome weekend it was. The time was filled with good eats, the typical amount of sleep, which sadly isn't much, and the time forgotten lazy afternoon at home. I even cooked dinner with legitimate fixings! A very welcome weekend indeed.

The above title is a lie, though I did watch a few movies. The first was "Jackie Brown", the third film directed by Quentin Tarantino. The only of his movies I'd not seen, it was a smart tale of a street-wise flight attendant and the arms dealer who pays her bills. Not as raw and over the top as Tarantino's other work, the story is well told, written, and acted, featuring a terrific cast including the always welcome Michael Keaton, Samuel L Jackson, Robert DeNiro, and Bridget Fonda. I liked it.

Yesterday, Ryan, Scott and I went to see "Diary of the Dead", the fifth film in George A Romero's "(Noun du jour) of the Dead" franchise. An attempt to comment on the violent depravity of men, the story of a group of college film students documenting their flight from the un-dead falls short of other recent zombie flicks like "28 Weeks Later", and the remake of Romero's own "Dawn of the Dead". I confess that I like movies about zombies, but the script more or less sucked, as did the acting. So in other words, it wasn't great.

Speaking of movies, my ever more creative, not to mention funnier and better looking, companion Sarah presented me with a fabulous suggestion we will soon be undertaking. In the wake of my humiliating upset at the Oscar's (see the below reminder of my humorless obsession), Sarah, no doubt aiming to restore my pride, proposed we start watching the Best Picture winners, all 80 of them. We quickly got excited and committed ourselves to the task, and soon we will start to work our way through the movies in reverse order from "No Country for Old Men" to 1927's "Wings", plus the first two installments of "The Lord of the Rings" to catch Sarah up to speed. We both have our reservations, Sarah dreading "The Silence of the Lambs", and I "Titanic", but we're looking forward to starting. Sarah tells me I have much to learn about "The Sound of Music", and I will certainly post updates along the way.

That's all for now, and I best get to bed. Right now people the whole world over are restoring their strength so they can wake up, call and complain about their iTrip, meaning I need all the help I can get. Cheers!

so long...

2008-03-24T21:07:00.000-07:00

I lost my iPod to a glass of week old Coke tonight, and I find myself in a quandary. I spend most of my day talking to people who own iPods. Almost everyday I talk to someone who says my company’s product ruined their iPod. I then give this spiel about how we’ve never had an instance where our product fried one, but that we would be happy to get it back and test it. This is the truth, I’ve never seen it happen, but no one cares, and for the most part no one believes you. I hate being the villain, but the truth is that things quit working, products fail, even expensive ones, and all day long I wish I could tell someone it’s just stuff.

This was my fourth iPod. The first one developed this pitiful frowning face and ultimately quit working all together. The second one had a short in it, causing it to turn on and off if you squeezed it in the right place. The third one was stolen when some high school kid broke my car window and took it along with Sarah’s. My father graciously replaced the iPods, and tonight that one bit the dust too.

A friend of mine is a Young Life leader and tonight I volunteered to help students kidnap their friends and bring them to Young Life. The 15 year old girl riding shotgun was looking for some music and set the iPod down in a cup of Coke. I didn’t know this until after the kids got out of the car and I realized the iPod was all sticky. I turned on the light and could see the liquid under the screen. All of a sudden I’m looking for someone to blame, frustrated over the fact the girl knew what she had done the moment she felt the Coke in her hands, though she never said anything. If I was in her shoes at that age, I don’t know if I would have either, and I can’t hardly blame her. While I try to take the high road, I really wish in my heart of hearts I had someone to blame who could do something about it.

No matter what I learn about the world, it is hard to overcome the materialism that pervades it. I have a very good grip on my guitars, when they were made, what they cost, the location of every nick and ding. I can even hold one, run my hands across the strings, and sense the infidelity of another person’s hands. Every DVD has a specific place on the shelf, and I can see what’s missing with a passing glance. I know where every CD I own is, how it is organized (alphabetized by genre with records chronologically sequenced by artist), and who has borrowed one. It is quite pitiful. Tonight the passing of my fourth iPod makes me sad, and in the midst of all this I forget what a luxury it was to even have one.

I have seen third world poverty with my own eyes, walked in a slum where one out of five people had HIV or AIDS. Countless homeless have heard the sound of my car doors locking, or the so simple “I don’t have any cash.” Yet I have so much more to lose, so many other luxuries that can only be lost in time. All these things are replaceable, and in spite of what I know about the world, it is hard to remember that which is not.

There is no cute anecdote here, just the knowledge that in this time of frustration, I am very aware of how easily I get priorities messed up. Even in thinking about this blog tonight, I have marginalized and hurt someone I hold closer than any other, and it sucks to realize that. I should be grateful for my sticky, caffeinated iPod, and be humbled by how quickly the things we revere become worthless. Maybe I will be come the morning.

Oscar Night!

2008-02-23T11:34:00.000-08:00

This is the time of year where I really get sick of hearing about sports. Not that I’m ever really that excited to hear about them, but between the hype of this past Super Bowl and the inevitability of March craziness, I am weary. I suppress my inner competitor, but when it comes to this weekend is different. I look forward to the Oscars.

So here are my predictions, who I want to win and who I think will win - sometimes why. The truth of the matter is that I know nothing (especially about movies I’ve never seen), and my opinions will change nothing, just like yelling at your TV can’t make someone catch a football. But who really cares? Here we go.

Actor in a Leading Role: Daniel Day Lewis for There Will Be Blood - In the midst of good performances, Lewis has no competition. His loss would be the upset of the night.

Actor in a Supporting Role: Who do I want to win? Javier Bardem for No Country for Old Men - This man was downright terrifying. Who will win? The Academy has a way of honoring the veterans; I have this feeling Hal Holbrook will win for Into the Wild.

Actress in a Leading Role: Want? Ellen Page for Juno. Win? Julie Christie for Away From Her

Actress in a Support Role: Cate Blanchett for I’m Not There - She’s too good to be nominated twice and not win one.

Animated Feature Film: Persepolis - This tale of growing up Muslim and female is primed to dethrone Pixar from their digital tyranny, though Ratatouilli was a lot of fun.

Art Direction: Sweeney Todd - No one creates esthetic like Tim Burton and his team. I really hope this wins.

Cinematography: Roger Deakins for No Country for Old Men - This is his sixth nomination in this category, and this movie feels as cold as its ruthless villain. Simple, traditional, and beautifully filmed.

Costume Design: Want? Alexandra Byrne for Elizabeth: The Golden Age. I think that Jacqueline Durran will win for Atonement due to the stunning war sequences.

Directing: Joel and Ethan Coen for No Country for Old Men - They got snubbed for Fargo and I think they deserve this.

Documentary Feature: This one’s a guess. Taxi to the Dark Side

Documentary Short: Freeheld - I have no idea.

Film Editing: The Bourne Ultimatum - This movie must have been so hard to piece together, and to do it well was quite an achievement.

Foreign Language Film - 12

Makeup: Ve Neill and Martin Samuel for Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End - They’ve been nominated before and the third time is often the charm at the Oscars (think LOTR).

Music (Score): Marco Beltrami for 3:10 to Yuma - A good score becomes a character, and this was a memorable performance.

Music (Song): Once - "Falling Slowly" - Music and Lyric by Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova - The most moving and original musical in years.

Best Picture: No Country for Old Men - The Coen’s have done their time and creating a sweeping masterpiece.

Short Film (Animated) - Madame Tutli-Putli

Short Film (Action) - At Night

Sound Editing - Ethan Van der Ryn and Mike Hopkins for Transformers - Both are two time winners and this was the best aspect of the movie.

Sound Mixing - Randy Thom, Michael Semanick and Doc Kane for Ratatouilli - All the kitchen sounds and pattering mouse feet. Very tough to balance and very cool.

Visual Effects - Scott Farrar, Scott Benza, Russell Earl and John Frazier for Transformers - I did not like this movie, but the effects were stunning, some of the best I’ve ever seen. Take note of the way light reflects off the AutoBots.

Writing (Adapted Screenplay) - Paul Thomas Anderson for There Will Be Blood - His source material was scarce, and the end result was dynamic and terrifying. A screenplay worthy of the Daniel Day Lewis’s stellar performance.

Writing (Original Screenplay) - Diablo Cody for Juno - Never has a movie been so irrevereant and touching. I really think he deserves this award and Juno deserves an Oscar.

Cheers!

top 5

2008-02-12T06:04:00.000-08:00

At the end of every year, I always try to stop and think about the year gone by, what the best and worst things about the year were. Well, 2008 galloped by, and grabbed me by the arm like a bandit on his high horse, and February is already upon us. So for now, I choose to look back, before it is too late, and recount my favorite media of 2007. This list is not authoritative, in any sort of order, and not even limited to things released in 2007, but simply what I enjoyed during the past year. So here it is, my top 5 albums, movies, books, and TV events of the year. Cheers!

Albums:

In Rainbows - Radiohead - Radiohead has been my favorite band since I learned to drive. I skipped school the day Kid A came out, and after several years of waiting for this record, I am satisfied. While they have never ceased to be brilliant, it is nice to hear ten straight tunes without the minimalist spacer tracks of the last couple records. Also a piece of music industry history.

Neon Bible - The Arcade Fire - This record is loose and gritty, meandering in and out of 80’s new wave and modern garage rock. Very emotional and full of energy, it comes from a spiritually dark place, though recorded in a church, but it is overwhelmingly hopeful in its whole.

Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga - Spoon - A lesson in simplicity, this record draws on early Van Morrison and Elvis Costello while managing to sound like nothing else.

Asleep at Heaven’s Gate - Rogue Wave - An expression of the life’s duality of joy and suffering. I probably listened to this band, as well as their last album, Descendant Like Vultures more than anything else this past year.

A Weekend in the City - Bloc Party - This band plays so well together, yet they always sound like they’re on the verge of falling apart. Great production, awesome guitar, chaotic and beautiful.

Movies:

No Country for Old Men - The Coen brothers have made most of my favorite movies and Cormac McCarthy wrote one of the best books I’ve ever read. This movie is bleak, but it’s so good. With the best villain since I can’t remember, I couldn’t begin to break it down, so I’ll simply say that I loved it.

There Will Be Blood - PT Anderson is another one of my other favorite film makers and this study of greed and selfishness is a departure. Great screenplay, cinematography, score (provided by Radiohead’s Johnny Greenwood), and probably my favorite piece of acting since DeNiro in The Kind of Comedy.

Hot Fuzz - I could never get sick of this movie. Best laugh of 2007.

The Simpsons - I had more fun watching this movie than anything else last year. It made me feel like I was ten again.

Juno - It takes a special movie to make teenage pregnancy a laughing matter. As touching as it is funny, probably my biggest surprise of the year.

Books:

The Yiddish Policemen’s Union - Michael Chabon - This author never writes the same kind of story twice, and this exploration into noir is steeped in a fascinating piece of historical “what if?” that never looses momentum. A mystery/thriller as only a winner of the Pulitzer prize could write.

Watchmen - Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons - I live with two comic book artists, and this was inevitable. Watchmen deconstructs the super hero like 1984 does fear and politics; I simply loved it.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - J.K. Rowling - The conclusion of this story was everything I hoped for. Entertaining, touching, exciting, and above all, appropriate.

Sex God - Rob Bell - A unique look at the nature of intimacy as it pertains to a man and a woman, but more so God and his children.

Through Painted Deserts - Donald Miller - A simple but beautifully told story of a pivotal time in the author’s life.

TV:

Lost - Sarah and I just boarded this train (or dare I say plane? sorry...) and are somewhere in the middle of Season 3 (so no spoilers PLEASE!!!). I’m hooked.

Planet Earth - The biggest documentary budget in history, taking over 5 years to make. Awesome, stunning, and truly humbling in its scope, it is probably the finest documentary series ever made. What a world!

The Office - The smartest show on television, and the only show since the X-Files I’ve actually made a point of watching on a weekly basis.

Mythbusters - The only show on television I will watch whenever it is on, no matter the time of day. The best model of the scientific method since Bill Nye the Science Guy.

24 - My roommates and I continue to stress over this one whenever a new season gets released. Season 5 was the best one yet.

evil

2008-01-20T15:53:00.000-08:00

Sarah has a new job working for a ministry that connects churches with the community in non-churchy sort of ways. This is a noble mission for many people see the church as a quarantine - isolated, cold, and ominous on corners of many streets. The woman at the well in John 4 is a testament to this when she says, “Our ancestors worshiped God on this mountain, but the Jews say that Jerusalem is the only place for worship.” We have many Jerusalems and Connect Ministries seeks to tear their walls down.

Last night all the partners and camp directors went bowling with their spouses and significants. Shortly after arriving, an older man of about 60 passed Sarah and looked her head to toe. He was very skinny and tan, and he spoke disrespectfully to her. At first we all talked about awkward it was, eventually shaking off. We laughed as the 5 year old daughter of a man present innocently showed us the bandage on her middle finger. We got our lanes and sat down.

The man just so happened to be in the lane next to us and he spoke unintelligibly as we passed. He then proceed to stare at Sarah the entire time we bowled. We tried our best to ignore him, but it was difficult. At one point, I got up to bowl as Sarah left for the restroom with a co-worker. I turned in the lane and watched as the man got up and followed Sarah to the other side of the building. I quickly got rid of the ball and walked to the bathroom. The man lingered at the door and when Sarah came out, he approached her, leaned his head in close in began talking to her, when I walked up and pointed at him. My blood boiled and I spoke with more anger than I have ever spoken to anyone in my life, stuttering and shaking. “Don’t talk to her! Get away from her! I’ve heard what you’ve been saying, you don’t talk to her like that!” The man then reached out and put his hand on my shoulder, looked me in the eye, and said, “What was I saying?” and again, “What was I saying?” He knew what he said, but I was nearly speechless from my anger at this point. Sarah grabbed my other arm and pulled me away.

I cannot imagine how Sarah felt, and I do not think that I ever could. I felt the cold chill of evil and dirty intentions as it threatened the one I love. It reminded me of a time when I was on a mission trip as an 8th grader. The youth group played putt-putt and a man in his mid-twenties approached a girl in our group, no more than 12. He asked her if she wanted to come to bed with him, and she began to sob uncontrollably. I could feel the sickness then just like I felt it last night, and I am reminded of the disease that is sin.

A police officer sat at our table for the rest of the time we bowled, and the man continued to stare until he eventually left. As we put our shoes back on, Gabe, one of Sarah’s bosses, said, “That’s what we would be without Christ.” In this moment, I am reminded of how treacherous the devil is, how sin poisons who we are until all that is left is a feeble frame with a vulgar tongue. Gabe’s words convicted me to pray for the man.

The world is full of so much beauty, but for all the good we try to create around our selves there is much darkness. We medicate ourselves against the sorrow, and focus on what makes us feel happy. An environment is created, seemingly impervious, but in reality porous and submerged in pain, darkness, and suffering. “Life is good,” some people say, but I don’t know if this is entirely correct. My friend Dave says that life is hard, which is true. Life can really suck sometimes, and for a lot of different reasons. But in the midst of everything, we are given the power to weather, and to endure.

Sarah and I walked into the parking lot at the end of the night and looked around. We ran to the car holding hands, smiling for the first time in a couple of hours. I knew the man wasn’t there, but I could still feel his presence; it was heavy on my chest. The rest of the evening was a battle against my anger, and it took hours to fall asleep. Gradually the man faded from my mind, my eyes slowly closed, and I slipped into sleep. In the morning, he was gone.

your best suit or dress

2008-01-01T20:08:00.000-08:00

All over the world people dress for an occasion, and make company with the choicest of friends. Plans may be simple or extravagant yet there is a common theme happening the whole world over. This is celebration. Raise your glass into the air and speak blessings of the year to come, declare your hopes for the future, and turn your back to the disappointments of the last year. “Maybe this year will be better than the last,” and everyone drinks their approval. It happens every year.

Two things seem dangerously prevalent with the passing of each New Year’s Eve. The first is that we are all too eager to sweep the last year under the rug, all of its lessons and experiences. The second is that we are setting ourselves up to fail. This is the point of resolutions, making up for last year’s failures and creating the opportunity to screw it up this time around. I do not intended to make a sweeping generalization, but rather an assessment of seasonal sentiments at large. It is a cycle I wish to avoid this year, and as I consider the last year and the year to come, I have some thoughts.

2007 was an interesting year for me. From a professional point of view, I worked much less this past year than in the year before it. I thought I had found my in, and with the start of 2007 I anticipated even more work with better pay and exposure. This was not the case, however, and I spent much of the year with time in my hands. I cannot say I grew musically in 2007, but my desire to express myself creatively has not diminished by any means.

I went to South Africa in February for two and a half weeks, and I was not prepared for the place. There may be nowhere on this planet that better exemplifies the contrast of beauty and disaster, but I saw a glimpse of the measure of God’s love there. Hope is in no short supply, even though HIV/AIDS, TB, and poverty are rampant. Cape Town and the western cape of South Africa is as stunning as anywhere in the world, and I was blessed to see it. And there at the collision of two oceans I saw God meet the earth in a way I never could have imagined. Hope upon hope, life upon life, and joy in its purest state of existence.

Like I said before, I had a lot of time on my hands this year and I am afraid that the lessons of that wild place gradually washed away. I can remember the gigs I traveled to, yet so much of this past year was a blur, which is probably normal. It is just that I came home so motivated and inspired to write, play, love, and live with so much joy and excellence, but I let my inactivity get the best of me. You can ask Sarah and anyone else who spends much time with me, and they will tell you how down on myself and in a shell I can be, either in word or demeanor. No room should be made for regret so I say this not to medicate myself, but to confess and be done with it. There is much work to be done for those who are willing and 2007 has taught me how necessary it is to be willing.

Highlights of the year include some pleasant travels with some of my favorite people. These include a week on a lake in central California, and another week in the mountains of New Mexico. I long for these places, especially now that the days have become so short. I also got to watch life come into being in the form of Sarah’s joyful nephew Noah, as well as my sister’s first child, Sam. He is beautiful and I have felt my heart grow with his presence.

I also started my first real job in 2007. When I say real job, I mean real job, the kind with salary and benefits. I finally decided that I was not playing enough to warrant not having one. I want to continue with my life, not wait on it, and the opportunity at Griffin promised a chance to proceed and plan. And, as I mentioned above, I had time on my hands and it was costing me far more than money. After two and half months, it is still good to work, and I am enjoying the structure I have no truly known since high school. I sleep better, get up earlier, and waste little time; it feels so very good. I still wish to play and pursue music, and I cannot listen to something good without loosing myself in the urge to create. My parents generously gifted me a gorgeous, inspiring Gretsch guitar, and told me to go do something with it. I intend to.

A little over a week ago Sarah and I had dinner to celebrate Christmas together, and she asked me what I resolved for 2008. Like I said above, resolutions are often an invitation to failure, so I thought carefully. If I eat better or exercise more, so be it, but I want real goals for this year, things that would shape the course of everyday life through the expansion of my spirit and mind. I then told Sarah that I want to start and complete some form of writing project (as of yet undetermined!), that I want to finish 2008 a better guitarist than I started the year (something that did not happen this past year), and that I want to learn to pray like I actually believe prayer is what the Bible says it is.

As I look to the next year, I want to continue to build upon the foundations God has laid in my life, not let life’s lessons dilute in a solution of apathy and frustration. I do not wish to wait for something to come to me that I can go and get for myself. I do not wish to waste the time that I have. Not this year. I am going to put on my best, raise my glass, toast my friends and loved ones, the year gone by, and the new year that is really no more than another day. So to 2008 and each new day I say, “Welcome. You’ll be gone before I know it so let’s make the most of it.” Happy New Year. Cheers!

Wind

2007-12-24T22:51:00.000-08:00

The wind is persistent, steady like the passing of train, endlessly pouring from the horizon. It does not rest or gust, but it simply blows. Low clouds race across the sky with barely time to perceive their shape. They are in such a hurry I wonder if they know where they are going. And above it all the moon throws its pale blue to the earth below. It traces cloud, leaves no puddle without projection, and sets the rest into hard shadow. This is not moonlight that washes over everything, but some sort of heavenly street light in the midst of a cold, dark alley. Stories and tales of the darker things are born in a night like this, yet against this sinister canvas there is nothing looming, fearful, or wicked. The night is rare in its beauty, and rich in the senses. You do not breath of the air on a night like this, you drink it. It is standing in the awareness that the world is alive all around you and that something is driving it all, something big, something mysterious.

We really have very little to go on as to what kind of night it really was. We know that magi followed a star, but that is really about it. It may have been cold, the moon may or may not have been out in the night sky, it may have been cloudy, we just do not know. Yet when we think about Christmas Eve, we picture a night of endless stars, the moon beaming down through the cracks and the cold onto the birth of Christ, our Lord. We imagine because it is an event that is easily romanticized. I do not think this is a bad thing yet it is amazing how many assumptions we apply to an evening we really know very little about. In the scriptures we get only a few verses about that night, but there is one thing I am relatively certain about. In the culmination of the physical and emotion turmoil that was Mary’s teenage pregnancy, there must have been a tremendous sense of life and the world around them - something big, mysterious, and driving it all like a strong winter’s wind.

Imagine a world in which everyone lives with a sense of something bigger at hand, something more meaningful. When I picture this world, I picture a lot of happy people who seldom fret the woes of life. To engage all your senses is to experience the world with wonder, and to give yourself up to the inevitable is to live without care. I am convinced this is joy, living without regard to the petty things or even the dramatic, but rather with a healthy and gracious understanding of the bigger picture. When I imagine the Bethlehem sky and the couple in the manger, I have to believe they felt the same overwhelming peace and belonging, even in the midst of labor.

There are many focuses in the season of Advent. I have written about the prophecies and anticipation of Israel, and about peace, to no adequate effect, in some prior work. It is also common to hear sermons about hope, joy, the magi, and the shepherds, not to mention Mary and Joseph. I wanted to take the time to consider the weight and worth of this season, I wanted to change the way I looked at Christmas. But I quickly realized how incapable I am of truly capturing and considering everything there is to consider. The Old Testament alone tells of the hundreds upon hundreds of years of anticipation, then factor in all the players in the story and what makes them essential, and it is downright overwhelming. I do not want to over think Christmas.

Now I sit here in the dark in front of the Christmas tree at my parent’s house and I picture that moon, the wind, and the shadow. I listen to Andrew Peterson and picture the stable, what the sky must have looked like on that night Christ was born. I sink back into the couch and I rest in the knowledge of something big and mysterious, something driving it all. The ancient prophecy, the star-gazing magi, the dumbfounded shepherds, noble Joseph, and blessed Mary, it all fits together so well. The circumstances surrounding the birth of Christ were perfect in every way.

I originally planned to write something for every week of the Advent season, which I obviously did not do. This week was intended to be joy, but I am realizing that if joy is living gratefully in unconditional acceptance, then perhaps all these other aspects of the season fall right in. By living in joy, we experience peace and hope, and in these things we get a pretty good picture of Christ. But joy would not exist without love, and perhaps the most important thing I have been thinking about these last couple weeks is that the coming of the Christ was a tremendous act of love. Christ became man and squeezed into this world because He loved us enough to want us to be with Him.

As Christmas day is now upon us, it is my hope that we can all rest in the knowledge of God made man through the little baby boy born in a manger. Why God did such a thing is much bigger than us, yet it is a joy to be a part of it. I hope and I pray that this Christmas is filled with the knowledge of something big and mysterious made complete in that little boy. Behold the Lamb of God, never changing, never running astray, and upon him all the Glory of the world. Merry Christmas.

What's So Peaceful About Peace?

2007-12-15T23:01:00.000-08:00

I hear so much talk of peace this time of year, and I cannot help but wonder where people are hanging out. Where are the sheep? Where are the stars? Where is the sweet and cooing baby Jesus to command a little silence? As far as my Christmas experience is going there might as well have been a marching band practicing on the other half of the manger, and the oboes are out of tune. The two burning candles on the Advent wreath have fallen out of their stands and are setting the carpet on fire. I can safely say that I am not experiencing much peace at the moment and either a peaceful Christmas is an illusion or its on a fast track to pass me by.

Now I must admit that I am being dramatic, but I must consider the circumstances. First there are the petty things, like how every morning I stick out my elbows and push my way onto Interstate 65 amidst dozens of people acting like they are driving their imaginary pregnant passenger to the hospital in a bumper car. This is probably the case all year long, but I have started a new job in the holiday build-up, and it is a rude awakening after the stillness of a breaking morning. I then sit at my desk and respond to a hundred or so emails and calls from edgy customers wondering where their Christmas gifts are. I once wrote a scathing letter to a manufacturer of a guitar I own because of a defect in the instrument, hoping that my words would sizzle on the page and in turn score me some kind of hand out. I was young and foolish, but it would appear what goes around comes around. We are in the throws of materialism and nothing shows the selfishness of man like people spending money. I am stressed out by the way people are spending money.

There is simply too much to do to make Christmas logistically happen. This is the busiest time of my year on every possible level. I work every day, have an engagement every night, and while this is a time for fellowship and celebration, I find myself looking for reasons to bug out. This is a time to give God glory for the intersection of mankind and the divine, yet we have so many obstacles in the way of getting there.

And then there are all the difficult things, the things that are outside of our control. This week was a week of unwelcome news, and a week of difficult lessons. I caught a glimpse of the depth of my selfishness and it hurt. At the same time our nation is fighting a war on two fronts, a war against an enemy that will never cease to exist. Democracy is failing in allied nations, civil war occurs the entire world over. Then there is the genocide in Sudan, children forced to be soldiers in Uganda, and the fact that 6,500 Africans die every day from a preventable disease. The truth of the matter is that this a world in which we have no peace, and a world that never will.

Israel, as I wrote previously, was a nation that never experienced a lasting peace. Isaiah speaks of the Messiah as the Prince of Peace, and we embrace this idea. After all, angels appeared to the shepherds below, saying, "Glory to God in the highest! Peace on Earth and good will towards men!" Our nativity scenes depict the most perfect of circumstances, carols invoke the calm, and even the high and peerless beacon of the night sky invokes a tremendous sense of purity and bliss. This picture of the birth of Christ is bursting with peaceful images and I wonder, how do I find the peace in this season?

A few nights ago I sat and watched a remarkable song cycle called “Behold the Lamb of God”. A local singer-songwriter named Andrew Peterson, along with a number of his friends, performed this telling of the birth of Christ, starting in the beginning of the Old Testament. The defining moment of the entire production is a song called “Labor of Love”, a song that is possibly the best lyrical telling of the birth of Christ I have ever heard. The song starts with the lyric, “It was not a silent night, there was blood on the ground.” And it continues:

You could hear a woman cry
In the alleyways that night
On the streets of David's town

And the stable was not clean
And the cobblestones were cold
And little Mary full of grace
With the tears upon her face
Had no mother's hand to hold

It was a labor of pain
It was a cold sky above
But for the girl on the ground in the dark
With every beat of her beautiful heart
It was a labor of love

Noble Joseph at her side
Callused hands and weary eyes
There were no midwives to be found
In the streets of David's town
In the middle of the night

So he held her and he prayed
Shafts of moonlight on his face
But the baby in her womb
He was the maker of the moon
He was the Author of the faith
That could make the mountains move

It was a labor of pain
It was a cold sky above
But for the girl on the ground in the dark
With every beat of her beautiful heart
It was a labor of love
For little Mary full of grace
With the tears upon her face
It was a labor of love

A “labor of pain” is far from a peaceful thought, yet the child of Mary was in fact the Prince of Peace. Even God made man was born in the pains of labor, not to mention the abject squalor of a filthy manger.

In this second week of the Advent, I consider the Prince of Peace and the obstacles placed between us and a peaceful Christmas. In a world where violence, disease, and suffering is inevitable, it is the Christ child that embodies peace. Life is not peaceful, but the presence of God is peaceful, and one day this world will experience the lasting peace the Israelites longed for, and not just for those who believe, but for the entire Earth. Wars will end, the environment will be put into balance, and selfishness will cease to exist. In the birth of Jesus and the celebration of Christmas, we are intended to experience peace, if only for a moment. As I sit here and desperately try to slow down my thoughts, I do not wish for the sweetness of this season to pass me by. I long for the Prince of Peace, and it is my sincere hope that all the weight and noise imposed upon us during the Christmas season fade away, until all we are left with is the cries of a child, and a sky full of stars.

The Advent: Anticipation

2007-12-09T16:17:00.000-08:00

Oh Israel, you stubborn people! You are a nation of intermittent obedience, though you are no stranger to discipline. You are easily swayed by idols though you have dwelled under the mountain of the living God. How easy it is to forget the road you walk, even though it is led by cloud and fire. How easy it is to forget the provisions you receive, even as manna and quail appear from the sky. And in the very presence of God, how easy it is to long for Egypt and your days of slavery.

Oh Israel, if you only knew what your disobedience would bring! If you only knew how joyless your law would make you, waiting every day, year after year, for the law to save you. It is not the laws you break, for the law can be fulfilled by no man, but the spirit in which you break them. The arrogance of Israel says that a time comes in which the law no longer suffices, that a man must lead Israel, that some “god” of their neighbors will come to their aid, and I cannot help but wonder if every time Israel fell back into slavery, they mourned their words: Wouldn’t it be better to be back in Egypt? (Numbers 14:3). Israel longs for something lasting, and all the while their spirit crumbles.

Permanent is a word the children of Jacob must have often thought and seldom spoken. And who can blame them? They were nomadic herdsmen, ever moving towards a land they had been promised hundreds of years before. Once in the land, they lived in peace for a time, only to be assailed and divided, eventually destroyed. It seemed their progress culminated in the building of the Temple, a reward for the guidance of Godly leaders, and a beacon of Israel’s unity. Later kings would turn wicked and greedy, the nation would divide, and the Temple would crumble to the ground. Israel would find themselves in bondage again and they would long for redemption.

The voices in the wilderness are echoed in their leaders as Isaiah, like David before him, speaks of a coming redemption. Israel’s battle with the law has left their nation divided and weak, full of corruption and bitterness. Jacob’s children are primed for deliverance, and in the words of Isaiah they hear how the Lord will bring Israel back together. A king will rise who will throw down their enemies and gather all of the scattered back to the folds. Israel has seen kings come and go, but this is different, this seems permanent.

There are many prophecies in the Bible concerning the Messiah, and I possess not the knowledge or the words to convey their significance. Even still I am overcome with the burden that Christmas is so much more than the birth of Israel’s Messiah. Or maybe it is that Christmas is not an adequate means of expressing the coming of a savior. Christmas is a season, and though there are many great things about it, it is just a season. I find it interesting that people consider this time of year to be a time of reconciliation and restoration. Loners find their way home, families speak their peace, and the turmoil of life seems to suspend for a few moments. This event brings hope to people who do not subscribe to the spiritual, and even suspends the fields of war.

For Israel, the coming of the Christ was anything but a season, but rather a constant awareness and longing for deliverance. The writings of the Old Testament are full of this longing and the birth of the Messiah was a long time coming. When it finally did come it seems that no one was looking except for some star-gazers and some shepherds. I am saddened that Jacob’s children missed this, almost enraged at how a nation could be so lost in trying to save themselves that they would miss the birth of Christ, but I think I get it.

I once heard someone speak about the Pharisees, those pious punching bags we in kind look at down our noses. He posed the question, “Did you ever wonder why the Pharisees were the way they were?” I always just thought they were joyless for their pride, and ignorant to the way of everyday life for all their knowledge. Who does not like someone that has no redeeming qualities? After all, it makes us feel powerful and righteous, though we could not be further from truth. This man goes on to say that the Pharisees, as the leaders of the Jews, felt a responsibility to protect Israel. For hundreds of years Israel believed they suffered as the result of their sin, and in this time of Roman occupation, it made perfect sense that deliverance could only come when Israel lived righteously. The Pharisees would then feel that by living in extreme compliance with the law, the Messiah would come in triumph and forever remove the occupying forces of pagan nations. This is logical to me, and in this light the Pharisees do not appear prideful, but rather tragic.

As I consider the advent, I dwell on the season with various thoughts of Christmas, but this year I am burdened. I have been reading about the Law, and about Israel’s battle to keep it. I have read about the ways they atoned for their sin, and the way they even groveled for mercy. And when I consider the condition of the Israelites, I realize that the anticipation of a Messiah was not a season on the calendar, but a fact of life for many hundreds of years. I am burdened by the fact that I too live like an Israelite, burdened by a law I cannot keep, a law that has caused me immeasurable grief.

This year as Advent begins, I pray for the remembrance of Israel’s and my own condition, and the anticipation of the great Liberator, the King of Kings. May Christians everywhere not be lost in the chaos of this commercial time, but celebrate the coming Messiah. For all the beauty and peace found in that manger, may we anticipate our Lord like Israel did, and as we look forward to Christ’s next coming, it is my hope that we like the magi be found watching the sky and not buried in our books.

pilgrim

2007-11-22T20:23:00.000-08:00

Hundreds of years ago, a group of religious idealists grew tired of their government and its gloomy oppression, and crossed the ocean to freedom. The pilgrims we place in Thanksgiving dioramas resemble quakers more than open ocean explorers yet they endured hardship for their faith that most hope they will never suffer. They weathered blistering sun and relentless seas, disease, and hunger while embarking on the reckless task of crossing an ocean with nothing more than stars, paper and strings to plot their course. When they finally reached land, they found a completely mysterious world filled with seemingly hostile people with whom they could not communicate. But rather than fearing what they did not understand, they had dinner.

The pilgrims embodied so much of what Christ called people to be. They stood up against oppression, they welcomed and endured suffering, and they sought peace and community with even the most discomforting of people. The pilgrims found their freedom, yet like most things that start well, there was corruption to be had. The pilgrims brought plagues that killed the natives, and their ancestors would steal their land, murdering along the way. The Bible would be treated as a weapon of judgment, a means of segregation, and the freedom the pilgrims fled their homes for would be bound up in false teaching. The people would forget where they came from and take their nation for granted, and as a result we today clearly live as a people with a loose and selfish grip on our freedom.

How can we properly give thanks for something that has cost us nothing? The heart of this day is good. It is a day where people gather with the ones they love, share food, drink, and stories of the paths that lead to this point. It is also a day where we think of what we are grateful for. A day for telling the people who matter to us how we feel. A day where the poor and homeless are fed. Again, the heart of Thanksgiving is good but the spirit of it is lost.

I have had the privilege of going to church in an improbably poor African community torn apart by HIV/AIDS. I have been broken by the joy of people worshiping in freedom as if they never were sick, never understood class, and never suffered under apartheid. Yet it was because they lived in all of those things and so much more that they did worship freely for the God who delivered them. Because they understood where they had been, they graciously shared their joy before God with all they met and all they did.

Today I consider how little I understand about where I have come from. I live in that selfish freedom and the expectation that what has always been there will always be there though I know that is not true. And because I live so selfishly I am often blind to the awesome deliverance I have experienced and the freedom that comes of it. Now we have to have a day set aside to show gratitude, and we sit and create lists in our minds and on paper of all the things that we a thankful for. While we certainly do have much to be thankful for, I rarely express my thanks to the spring of graciousness, but rather to the waters it yields, and that is idolatry.

So on this Thanksgiving day I recognize that the heart of this day is good, but that the spirit of this day is lost amidst the sea of everything I have to be thankful for. I hope to be the sort of person who gives thanks in the midst of suffering, like my friends at Masiphumalele, or the Pilgrims before them, but first I must learn to hold loosely to the things I historically thank God for and rather cling with white knuckles to the freedom that was given long ago. Today it is my hope we remember just where it was we came from and the ocean we crossed to get there.

fields

2007-10-20T19:12:00.000-07:00

The mind can wander to all sorts of places, familiar and foreign, the tangible and the theoretical. Sometimes I wonder just how I got there and I struggle to draw a map in my brain of the unlikely route, lingering wisps of thought all that remain. And then there are those places clear as the sky on a perfect, cold day, where the vapor trails of jets gone by hang and the sunlight draws precise lines against all it touches. It is here I find myself standing in a field of wheat. The wind turns patterns in the heads of grain and through it I see myself from some lower vantage; my hair blows across my face and the image lingers. The clouds speed past and the whole scene repeats like weather radar. This is an image I have carried for many years and it haunts me to the core. At times this image is Africa, at other times it is California, and still others some great plain I have driven past. I sit on my couch and watch the television and suddenly the image takes over, yet today it is new.

I am thinking about baseball. And it is no longer wheat but corn and suddenly I am lost in a scene from a movie and I realize that I love baseball. I have not watched Field of Dreams in years and stumbled across it today only to be sucked completely in. Kevin Costner is at the bottom of my list however this movie has always tugged at some strings. It is a good movie with a continuously expanding sense of intrigue but near the end, Terrance Mann, the J.D. Salinger - inspired author played by James Earl Jones, gives this unbelievable speech about the transcendent nature of the game and the movie suddenly becomes great. By the time Ray’s father appears I am on the verge of tears, filled with nostalgia for the movie and the game it loves.

For the sake of honesty I am unfair to sports. I openly share my disdain for all forms of team competition, especially basketball, to anyone who will listen. I do not like the way people’s lives shut down around games or how we lend our pride and self-worth to some uniformed strangers we call by their first names like we have been friends from years. Yet in this moment I find myself talking to Sarah about how much I love baseball. The games, the parks, the hot dogs, the way no one player can carry a team as a weak player cannot be compensated for in the field or at the plate.

Sarah listens to me talk and sees right through my disguise. “I do not think it is baseball you are having such strong feelings about but the memories that surround it.” Interesting, I think to myself. Images start creeping into my mind, particularly having a catch with my dad in the front yard. He was my coach for many years and a capable one at that and while at home I would stand at one end of the yard, dad at the other. We used the natural slope of our hill as a pitcher’s mound and my dad would catch, giving signs. One for the heater, two for the slider, three for the curve, none of which I could really throw. I never was much of a pitcher, a third-baseman instead, but always wanted to be. Fireflies would fill the air and we would toss the ball until dark.

She is right. Rarely I tote my favorite ball team, the Red Sox, donning a hat on some worthy occasion. I once sat in a sports bar a yelled my guts out as the Sox beat the Yankees in such an improbable fashion a few years ago. Yet the truth is that the Red Sox were my favorite team long ago when I played little league ball. Today I never watch the highlights, I have no idea who is on the team, and I am as loyal a fan as a trophy blond is a loyal wife to her oil baron husband.

Competition puts my stomach in knots. I get stressed watching people compete. I hate the way I feel when I am placed in a competitive situation. Monstrous feelings seem to overwhelm me when I begin to apply my worth to the outcome. Dread preceded me on the baseball, lacrosse, swim, and even ultimate Frisbee teams I was a part of growing up. I did not like carrying the pressure to win as I put way too much of my own concerns and pride into it. I grew emotionally weak in those years and I had to walk away from all of it.

Good lengths of time passed before I felt the strength return to me. I learned to detach my worth from the things I did and instead found it in a worthy Creator. I cannot say I do not struggle with this from time to time but the overall shift has been extraordinary. When I think about Eric Liddell, the English sprinter in Chariots of Fire, I get chills. “God made me fast. When I run, I feel God’s pleasure.” As I watched the movie, bedded down after having my wisdom teeth removed, I instantly knew it to be true. This quote changed my life.

Ray Cancella and his father play catch and I am on the verge of becoming a weepy mess. I am wondering why we cling to our innocence, why feelings may surface so strongly at the right stimuli. Is there some part of me that aches for the loss of those childhood years playing ball? Or maybe there is something natural about playing ball with your father; in his patience there is something timeless, something pure. It is good to stand in the fields of freedom and confidence, the wind blowing across your face and filling your nostrils with life, whatever the field may be. And for that, I love baseball.

welcome to our world!

2007-09-08T06:17:00.000-07:00

This weekend my sister gave birth to her first child. Samuel Matthew Scearce is 6lbs, 14oz, and 20 inches long. Baby and mother are well and I am an extremely proud uncle! As the first child born in our family in 25 years, I imagine there will be no shortage of gloating to come. Cheers!

wake up

2007-09-05T09:26:00.000-07:00

I awoke early to a sky still full of stars and a moon so bright and full I would swear it was a street light. The rustling sounds of nylon indicate either a willingness to greet the impending dawn or a certain disdain for the cold Californian darkness. I am underdressed for the cold but I get up anyway. Down the the hill I find coffee and companions ready to join me in a quest for still water. We steal glimpses of the stars before the are lost and anticipate the sun.

I have come here for two years now to camp with a church group from Southern California. We drive north for hours to spend a week by the lake sharing in fellowship, worship and water skiing. There are no cabins here, no tents, only stars to cover our heads at night. I learned to wakeboard here the year before and this year am determined to ride without the shaky need for balance. The water is like glass this early in the day and behind the boat I am alone with morning. This is what cowboys must feel like.

If God is not in the morning he is not in anything I am convinced. There are days where watching the world reveal is to see it for the first time. I have never seen a sunrise and dreaded the day ahead of me, no matter what lie ahead. Since these mornings in California I have been able to greet the new day with frequency; in the mountains, on airplanes, in my own home. I have come to love the time of day I often cursed and during these moments of solitude I have done a lot of thinking.

To see something new is to see it with wonder. Rarely, if ever, do I find terror in the experience of the unknown, merely in the thought of it. To be alive, after all, is to constantly discover if your senses are open. I forget this often but never in the morning. Every sip of coffee, every word read, every song heard is vibrant and alive; time passes slowly with patience and no resentment.

How appropriate then God would consider spiritual experience to be a rebirth, that we are to be born again. How fitting the scriptures say that God “is making all things new!” I amazed to think that Christ left the tomb while most of the world slept, a time in which only those who sought him would find him. We were never intended to toil in the brutal sun and its scorching heat or under the heavy veil of constant darkness. In these moments it is as if the sun were to always be rising, to constantly revive the earth and expel darkness, making all things new.

It is for this reason we must live in the morning. I am growing in the conviction the day should not be slept away but that we should wake up with the world. John Lennon was right, living is easy with eyes closed, but all we miss in the dawn is symbolic of a better way to live. We are children of the dawn.

the dust bowl...

2007-07-27T14:00:00.000-07:00

The middle of nowhere is hot and full of teenagers. Falls Creek camp brings nearly 7000 students every week to the middle of America to experience utter insanity. Southern Oklahoma is no place to spend a summer and I am grateful that this is my last day here. Tomorrow I fly to California to spend another week in an even more secluded area of the country with a small gathering of Orange Country teens with whom I will worship and wake-board, sleeping under the stars in a cool dry climate far from the sticky doldrums of the Texas-Oklahoma boarder. From California I fly to New Mexico to meet some friends for another week of camp before returning back home to Nashville. Tennessee feels so far away.

Some days it takes everything within me to look around and feel okay. I do not like living in a world where trust is so rarely rewarded. I logged into my computer for the first time this week and read through the news. Reports of indictments and mounting legal tension in the present administration seem to escalate daily. I’m tired of all this and am beyond passing it all off as some kind of political mud wrestling. I know partisan politics are fierce these days yet you can only hear so many stories of corruption and not believe it. It concerns me to see a top ranking government official leak secrets and get commuted while the victim of the leak gets her case thrown out in court. What a system! It would appear justice’s blindfold is falling off.

I guess it is a blessing to be unplugged for a few weeks. I am already experiencing the refreshment that comes with being out in creation, seeing mountains, and communing with friends and fellow believers. Plus I got to ride a mechanical bull and I've got the skinned knees to prove it (never ride a mechanical bull in shorts)! I get to spend the entire next week camping without the aid of so much as a tent. I lie on my back in those moments and consider the stars and what lies beyond with all the wonder I can give this creation. I have been to both these coming camps before and both were life-changing weeks. I simply cannot wait.

I finished the last Harry Potter yesterday, sad to reach the end of something so fun and endearing, and extremely satisfied with the finish. All of my concerns for the book seem to be appeased and I commend Rowling, while not the literary equivalent of Tolkien and Lewis who many feel apt to compare her to, on being an excellent story teller. I will revisit these books again and again over the years.

I am also getting to enjoy some new music while on the road. I’ve picked up the new Spoon and Interpol records, as well as the new Fountains of Wayne. Spoon is a brilliant alternative band out of Austin and the record warrants multiple listens. Interpol is a favorite amongst the new wave revival and Fountains may be the most clever and consistent source of solid pop music these days. Who else can write a song about a ‘92 Subaru and get away with it!

That the news from my world. I’ll check back in when I get to Glorietta but until then, Cheers!

journeys

2007-07-01T09:34:00.000-07:00

I just left Sarah, my girlfriend, and Scott, my roommate, at the airport here in Nashville (Sarah center, Scott perched between us. The girls to the right are on the trip as well). They are on their way to Moldova for an 11 day mission trip through our church. Moldova is nestled between Romania and the Ukraine and is the poorest nation of the former Soviet Union. Thousands of children live in orphanages there until the age of 16 when they are released by the state. 70% of girls are sold into the sex trade within their first year on the streets. 70% of boys turn to organized crime and of those, 10% commit suicide. Our church is sending three teams this year to three different parts of the country. There is tremendous hope in the gospel of Christ and I ask anyone who is willing to pray for them to do so while they are gone.

For further info, just follow the link to the team blogs on the right.

"If you get rid of the yoke from those around you, the finger-pointing and malicious speaking, and if you offer yourself to the hungry, and satisfy the afflicted one, then your light will shine in the darkness, and your night will be like the noonday. The Lord will always lead you, satisfy you in a parched land, and strengthen your bones. You will be like a watered garden and like a spring whose waters never run dry. Some of you will rebuild the ancient ruins; you will restore the foundations laid long ago; you will be called the repairer of broken walls, the resorer of streets where people live." - Isaiah 58:9-12

bittersweet

2007-06-25T09:02:00.000-07:00

I just finished reading this book: The Yiddish Policemen's Union by Michael Chabon (pronounced Shea as in stadium and bon as in Bon Jovi). Chabon has been my favorite novelist since I finished his brilliant homage to writer's block that is Wonder Boys, also a terrific movie starring Michael Douglas, Toby MacGuire, and Francis McDormand. The book, a straight ahead detective mystery, is at times historical fiction, humor and romance and extremely enjoyable to read. Chabon is a winner of the Pulitzer Prize and none of his masterful structure and syntax is sacrificed for a mystery but rather demands the book be read at a pace where both the writing and the details of the plot can both be enjoyed simultaneously. This is first rate fiction and modern literature by one of the best contemporary writers around.

The book while set in the present day centers around a little known piece of American history. During World War 2, the American government devised a plan to create a temporary settlement in the Alaskan panhandle for the millions of Jews worldwide who were being forced from their homes. This was called Sitka and while this obviously never happened the book presupposes that it did. Fast forward to 2007 and 3 million Jews live in Sitka and everyone is facing deportation as the American government is reverting the land back to the state of Alaska. Detective Meyer Landsman finds a man murdered in the the hotel where he presently lives and while the plot never strays from this mystery, the sheer depth, surprise, and intrigue of the story matches no mystery and few books I have ever read. The Yiddish Policemen's Union could have been twice the length of its 400 pages and I would not have cared. I'm almost sorry I finished it.

I hope everyone has a nice week ahead of them. Cheers!

my dad has a blog!

2007-06-11T19:33:00.000-07:00

The man who brought me into this world has decided to share his deep wisdom on all things spiritual with any willing reader. Please follow the link on the right and check it out! He's awesome, and smart, and an excellent writer. Cheers!

for the love!

2007-06-01T16:08:00.001-07:00

I am a bit out of the loop these days, I cannot say by accident, and I suppose it's time for a little update. For you students of the Myers-Briggs school of thought, I am an INFP, a label I carry with pride for a variety of reasons; you may google it if you like. A primary manifestation of my personality is a need for solitude, a need I have felt to a larger degree over the last few weeks or maybe even months. I have not taken much joy in blogging, parties or other large social gatherings. Sarah and my roommates have been getting the bulk of my time, small gatherings all I seem to have the social energy for. I'm not sure why I've felt this way of late but I just have. I am reading and playing guitar more than I have in a long time which is certainly nice though I apologize if I have seemed distant. I've needed these last few weeks.

Gigs are more scarce this summer than the last though the past few weeks have been slammed as the next couple will be. I'm busy though it's hard sometimes to remember what all is going on. I've once heard my dad comment he's worried about his memory. I think it's hereditary though I don't think it's anything to worry about. I don't work at Griffin anymore and though I am more strapped for cash than before I am grateful as the mounting aches of tendonitis seem to have disappeared along with the constant tearing, folding, and taping of boxes. I enjoy the people there but it keeps me from playing in terms of both time and physical discomfort. I can also meet Sarah for lunch now which I've always enjoyed.

And speaking of Sarah we've been dating for over a year now! Much to the dismay and joy of long-time friends and relatives we are beating the odds. Because of Sarah I am now enjoying the presence of Sirius satellite radio in my car. These past few days I have wondered how I ever lived without it and am increasingly finding reasons to drive. If you've been sitting on the fence, gazing into the greener pastures of commercial-free radio and its nation-wide coverage of dozens upon dozens of niche music and talk stations, I encourage you to proceed.

I went to a movie yesterday in a desperate need to get out of the house and found my way into Hot Fuzz, which was FREAKING AWESOME! I've wanted to see it for over two months now and just haven't made it yet. My Regal Crown Club card provided me with a free popcorn and I had the theater to myself. This is my favorite way to see a movie I've been waiting a long time for and the next two hours were some of the most fun I've spent in a theater in a long time. For those of you who aren't familiar with it, it's the new movie from Edgar Wright, the clever Brit who brought us Shawn of the Dead (one of my very favorite movies) and the fake trailer for Don't!!! in the Grindhouse intermission.

Containing much of the cast of Shawn, the story centers around Nick Angel, a hero cop from London who is transfered to a small village in the country because he's making the rest of the London metropolitan police look bad. He's obviously over-qualified and motivated with his by-the-book style for the demands of the small utopian town. His partner, an imature oaf named Danny, is a die hard fan of sensational cop films like Point Break and Bad Boys II and wants to live out his movie fantasies but new partner Angel hates guns and has unfortunately never fired one in slow motion while diving through the air. The job mostly consists of chasing pets around until a string of grizzly murders no one is willing to talk about threatens the sleepy utopia. Will Angel solve the crime? Will he gain the favor of the neighborhood watch association? Will he ever learn to fire his gun while turned doughnuts in a high speed pursuit? Only time will tell. Hot Fuzz is exciting, well-acted, and absolutely hilarious. Only a Brittish film could be this funny and this self-aware without resorting to cheap humor. Go see it.

I no longer make promises to blog because I am a liar. I do hope to finish writing and blogging about my trip to Africa as well as post some pictures. I'm also re-building my pedal board which may get a post as well. And speaking of building, I've decided to build an amplifier this summer, a replica of a late '60's Marshall 1987x Plexi. I'll be sure to post when I start. I hope all is well and I hope someone still reads this. Thanks for checking in. Cheers!

Kurt Vonnegut

2007-04-13T17:00:00.000-07:00

My favorite satirist died yesterday. More than a satirist, Kurt Vonnegut has been one of my favorite writers since I was in high school and I confess I felt my heart sink upon seeing the headline. If you've never read him before, I suggest picking up a copy of Cat's Cradle or Slaghterhouse-FIve and see if it interests you. I think I may pull mine back out as well.

I'm heading back to Nashville tomorrow and I promise a couple of posts in the next few days. Cheers!

good friday...

2007-04-06T07:11:00.000-07:00

Today we observe Good Friday. The name deceives us and I fear robs us the reality of a day like today. Yes, something very good historically happened today: Jesus Christ died for all people. But for the people present that day, I doubt they saw any good. I'd say the rioting mob was frightening when they demanded Jesus be executed, inviting a curse upon themselves saying His blood would be on them and their children. There was the scourging and brutal beating, the kind of violence that would make men and women alike weep. The parading of a broken man, suffering under the weight of a cross that he would ultimately die on, the bystanders hitting and spitting on Christ the entire way, and of course the execution itself. The Bible says there was darkness over the land for 3 hours, darkness in the middle of the day! For the disciples, the Jews, and the Romans alike, something deeply disturbing happened and the day was anything but good.

Easter eggs and pastel outfits have robbed this weekend of its power in my own life as I feel I have no true sense of the reality of this event. It is my hope that today Christians and non-Christians alike experience the despair of Christ's execution so that Easter Sunday will be a time of celebration like never before. I want us to know how the disciples felt. I want Easter to be our greatest hope in our greatest time of despair when Jesus Christ rises from the dead! May the glory of God be seen as never before this Easter. Many blessings and the hope of our Lord be with you all!

Living Hope - part 1

2007-03-16T08:28:00.000-07:00

I’ve recently returned from Cape Town, South Africa, in what was one of the most unusual and probably best experiences of my life. It is implicitly clear that I have no idea how to accurately and concisely describe my trip which is difficult when most of the people who ask about the trip offer only a few moments attention. I say this without criticism but with sympathy as I know how life can be. Rather than formulating a two minute speech, I have decided to write my thoughts down and publish them through this blog to any of you who care to know more about the trip. I know my blogs can be quite long and I have decided to break this up into four or so blogs, this being the first, for the sake of you, the friend and reader.

I’m not going to break down the trip’s details day by day, I’m going to keep my reflections at a limit but if you are curious, I would highly encourage you to check out my team’s blog, http://livinghope07.blogspot.com. It contains daily posts from the trip by people other than myself with views and voices of their own and entries of a more manageable length than my own. Plus, there are loads of sweet pictures that will give better visual aid than my own as I’m still stubborn and shot mostly film rather than digital; anyone have a scanner? AND people are still posting their various after thoughts, including our Zulu speaking driver Mandy who has recently joined in the fun. There is also information there about our church’s chapter of the Mocha Club. $7 a month is changing lives in Africa and I encourage you to please, please read what they are all about. Please.

Before I continue, I want to say one thing. I know that there is a growing stigma about Africa, especially in the culturally hip circles of the world, that it is the “in” place to be concerned and passionate about right now. I’ve heard people express their indifference to Africa as if it were the new Ashley Simpson record due to the celebrity attention (the majority of Africans don’t know where Malawi is but most Americans do) but it is dangerous to turn away. The need is real, it is great, our capacity to affect change is real, and above all, the charge of the Gospel of Christ is real. The gospel, however, is much bigger than Africa as China and India represent much larger mission fields with their own humanitarian and spiritual needs, not to mention the Americas and Europe. The entire planet aches for the loss that is our separation from God and I pray we see global missions through the same lens we view our neighbors through.

I went to Africa because a series of events over the last few years from college courses to personal experience placed Africa in my heart and the ever pressing need to see it in an attempt to understand. I struggled with the cost, wondering if the money would be better spent on things other than my trip but I am now convinced otherwise. The poor and sick need advocacy and seeing it first hand will change the way you care for the people there. Period. Every Christian needs to do missions in a strange place as it will give you perspective for even local missions that your pastor can never give you. More than this, it is a commandment to all Christians to be missionaries. That doesn’t mean you have to go out of the country to be obedient but it is a reminder that Jesus the carpenter built His church without walls and our ministry must reflect this. Now to South Africa.

The United Nations cited HIV/AIDS as the single greatest humanitarian threat in the world today. The epidemic is spreading rapidly throughout Asia, South America, Europe, and Russia but in no place is the issue as pressing as Africa. The continent is huge but one thing unites the dozens of nations together in a unique way from the rest of the world. African nations have long been the victims of European colonialists and as mostly independent nations in the present day, the entire continent is still rife with civil wars and drastically underdeveloped infrastructure as natives fight each other for a piece of the power and land they’ve long been deprived. While other parts of the world possess the resources to fight the spread of AIDS and are doing so quite well, Africa is decades behind in the fight which is why so much attention is given there over other places around the world though the UN addresses HIV/AIDS on every continent.

South Africa is one of the only first world nations on all the continent though most places in the country would indicate the third world is quite alive and well. Twenty percent of South Africans have HIV/AIDS meaning certain populations such as the people of Swaziland in the east have a 60% rate of infection. Imagine three out of five people in your local community with a chronic disease from which they will certainly die. The greater Cape Town area has a 25% infection average. Hundreds of thousands of people live in the squatter camps in Cape Town, some stretching over the visible horizon, entire cities unto themselves. Small tin shanties packed with people cover the city, containing the majority of the city’s HIV positive, ranging anywhere from 25-60% depending on the size of the community. The smaller the camp, the more sharing of partners and the higher rate of infection. Most HIV positive South Africans have tuberculosis as well, due to poor health and close living conditions. All of these numbers are based on known cases, not speculation, indicating the problem is probably much worse.

A South African cannot get a job if they are HIV positive. This means two things: first, unemployment is extremely high as it is in any poverty stricken area and second, most infected don’t tell anyone they have HIV, even their partners. Many don’t know they have it and those that do live in silence. The government has taken a stance of denial since the start of President Thabo Mbeki’s time in office due to poor advising concerning the relationship between HIV and AIDS and because at the end of the day, no one dies from AIDS, they die from TB, hepatitis, or even a cold contracted because they have AIDS. The climate in South Africa, despite its better infrastructure, puts the epidemic in much more of a crisis state than other African nations which are addressing the epidemic with much more success. Uganda is a shining example of this.

In the middle of all this is Living Hope, the organization my mission team worked with. My next blog will deal with Living Hope, their mission, and what we did while working with them. Thank you for reading so far and please check out the rest of the posts. Blessings!

tracking...

2007-02-20T14:34:00.000-08:00

A trend is emerging and my life has shifted considerably. As each days blows by, I feel increasingly unsure of where the time is going and what I’ve even spent my time doing. I’ve never used drugs but I at times I wonder how different it would be though I will never find out. Confused? Let’s head back about 6 or 7 months ago.

The start of last spring saw the beginning of my first road gig, a two month tour with Plumb that I have referenced many times in this blog. A few days into the tour I blogged about my initial thoughts and joys over the experience. I remarked about how I have always felt insecure performing but that I was no longer feeling that way. I was excited to spend everyday doing what I had long been saying what I was supposed to do. On stage I felt no insecurity but rather joy and communion with God over using my gifts.

At tour’s end, I spent another month with my friends Clemency and have since done several weekends with the boys heading into the new year. Since then I have hardly played at all. To fill a gap I started working at Griffin Technology, a manufacturer of iPod accessories. I needed the money, the pay is pretty good, and they are flexible with my hours. I have been giving them full time labor since the first of December and come home tired. I have important friendships to maintain but have poorly done so and there is the ever increasingly important relationship with Sarah to invest in; it didn’t take long for me to be tired and lost inside the busiest schedule I’ve kept since college. It’s easier to do in college, by the way.

For the last three months I have hardly touched a guitar except to play at the occasional worship service and I am certainly not practicing. I have not been experiencing the joy and communion with God through music I wrote of six months ago and that has been a terribly hard thing for me.

Last Friday, the boys from Clemency and I spent the day recording for their new record. We had time booked in a studio owned by Paul Moak, one of my favorite local guitarists. Paul is a gear junky and his studio is full of guitars, amps, and effects I sit around drooling over. I was excited about recording but nervous over being so out of practice. I was worried about my creativity and ability to execute it. I was very inspired at first by the space but I quickly grew insecure as we started playing through songs and my ideas felt increasingly uninspired. We mostly tracked drums with an awesome player named Derek and the rest will be tracked later though I couldn’t help but feel discouraged. I guess I had but a lot of pressure on myself to play my way out of a slump but I didn’t.

Last week I had something of a revelation. I was sitting on my bed, playing a little bit on this acoustic I have. It’s the nicest instrument I own and unlike my other guitars has a very distinct personality about it. It’s the kind of guitar that only sounds great when I’m playing well but in those times in sounds better than any guitar I’ve ever played. When I’m out of practice, it fights back as if I were molesting it and reminds me of how poorly I’m playing. It’s kind of like a race car in the hands of an everyday someone who thinks he can handle it, unaware of how powerful it really is. A highly skilled driver is the only one who can get the most out of it. Make sense?

As I thought about this, I couldn’t help but see it as a metaphor for something larger as if the various elements of my life are that guitar and that I have no control over the way it’s pushing me around. Please don’t get confused, I’m not talking about my girlfriend or my friends being overbearing; they’re all so encouraging. I’m talking about work, about dreams, about faith and life and that it all is blowing by with nothing in my control and it depresses me. I do realize that God is in the details but I don’t feel as if I’m heading down a path that has me in God’s will. I know he wants me to be playing, to be investing in people, to be growing but instead I’m just trying to catch up.

My time in the studio taught me two things. First, I really have to play more and get my creative juices flowing. I have to get sharper, more precise, and aware. This will hopefully encourage me to start writing again, my other creative interest. The blog is a place for my dispense various thoughts I’m not writing about in greater detail and the lack of posting of the past few months should be a good indication of a failure to nourish creativity. Second, I poured over Paul’s studio and thought about all the various pieces of necessary gear in a professional studio and road player’s rig. I don’t desire all the gear Paul has but I am aware that to do this job the way I want to do it I do need to invest more money into it. There comes a point in which this stuff becomes tools in a giant tool box; there is no end all guitar or amp that does everything and the deeper you get into it, the more sensitive your ear gets and the more tools you need to get it right. To play the kinds of gigs and sessions I want, I need at least two more amps, a half dozen or so guitars, and a bunch of things that fit in between. It’s a long process I will work out as gigs pick up; I will never compulsively buy copious amounts of gear so don’t worry those of you who are concerned for my financial responsibility. I’ll spend years doing this. I’m also grateful for what I have and I have everything I need for this period in my career.

I’m not working this week and have been able to play a bunch and it’s exciting. I’m beginning to restructure my life in a way that will better nurture my soul and spirt first of all and also my relationships and interests. I’ll talk more about this as it unfolds but for now, that’s the news. I hope this doesn’t make me sound down; I’m actually in very high spirits and am presently making myself late for something so I must go. Cheers!

first snow...

2007-02-02T09:17:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I expected snow but awoke to nothing. Today, however, the snow came and it is a lovely day out. I wont be enjoying it unfortunately as I am stuck inside with the flu. My whole body aches and I simply can't stay warm, no matter what I do. As I write this, I can't really give any consistent attention so I'm going to wrap this up. Winter was a long time coming but I'm glad it finally has. Have a nice weekend everyone.

overdue...

2007-01-25T18:25:00.000-08:00

I know what day it is. I know that I neglect this blog. I know that I make empty promises with semi-regularity when I promise to blog. But today is a new day! I made a revelation today, an awareness of a promise I've long over looked. I'll get to it in a moment but for now I offer a sort of explanation.

I have a job now, moonlighting in the fullness of day as a warehouse worker at a local company. I like the job and the people there though packing boxes is contrary to my dreams of playing music full time and I don't intend to keep this job but for a couple more months. I have little time at home now, even less time to sit, think and write, and a comparable amount of time with an internet connection. Blogging has unfortunately fallen by the side of the road and I fear that today I am no Samaratin but rather a passing Pharisee with clean feet and every intention of keeping them that way. I do, however, promise to blog with more care and will elaborate on this in a moment. But first...

For many years I have struggled with the mystery of an unusual man who looks like this: His name is Meat Loaf and for years I have continued to pay homage to this man everytime I've taken a seat at a piano in spite of two years of college piano study. I have always been plagued by the ever lingering question of, "What is THAT?" Yes, the infamous that of "I wont do that," from the song "I Would Do Anything for Love." For years I have considered Meat a coward, a spineless man who would do anything for his love until the moment in which his selfishness would overcome him and he would no longer do anything for her at all. It was Meat Loaf's door to independence and the return to the glorious life of sex, drugs and rock and roll.

Today, a co-worker and I waited for our lunch and the song came over the loudspeaker. He asked, "What is the that?" I said I wasn't sure but that I believe there was a duet in the song that may or may not answer the question. "The duet!" I thought. "How could I have forgotten?" We listened as she rattled off her requests and Meat promised in return. Eventually she asked if he would fool around on her, returning to the life of sex, drugs, and rock and roll when all of a sudden he says, "But I wont do that." It hit me that the title of the song was, in fact, a promise and that the coward Meat Loaf was actually galiantly balladeering his utter service and faithful devotion to this woman for the rest of his life. I had it all wrong!

There is something to be said for such a promise and I choose these words carefully. I promise to blog, soon, with as many as three new posts over the next week so please check back. I have many years of misunderstanding to repay Meat Loaf and I do not take this lightly. But for the time being, I am home, I'm extremely tired, chores are many, and I must go. Until then. Cheers!

it's the most wonderful time...

2007-01-01T21:27:00.000-08:00

Christmas has come and gone with more haste than ever yet much is familiar. More so than any other time of year, tradition runs wild as some things never change and those that do become traditions unto themselves. On this day after Christmas, I am engaging in perhaps the latter of these. The 007 Days of Christmas is in full swing and I am compulsively engaged in “The Man With the Golden Gun”. I have mocked many a movie in my years yet this tale of kung fu, super spies, flying cars, and three nippled assassins garners respect as do the other 21 companion films. I know what you are thinking: “There are only 21 Bond films, not 22!” And yes, “Never Say Never Again” is an unofficial remake of “Thunderball”, not made by EON Productions, but it is still Bond and I will stand by it.

Presently I am enjoying a day with absolutely nothing to do. This is very unusual these days as the sum of my responsibility leaves me with little time alone and void of responsibility. Gone are the golden years of sitting home all day, desperately seeking something to do. If I, in fact, had a day at home, I would have no end of things needed doing but my good fortunes find me at my parent’s house in Chattanooga. This house is quite clean and filled with the charming reminder of Christmas. Vintage Garrison Keilor plays as my father and I clean our fly-fishing lines. My mother sleeps in front of the television. This is vacation.

In light of this time, I will blog. So here it is: my report of Christmas as it occurred, the standard, silly, and sacred, in the year of our Lord, 2006.

Sarah and I walk heedfully down the steep, slippery driveway, turn down the walk and come to a stop in front of the house. It is the house of my godfather, Charlie, and we are arriving at what is the first traditional gathering of Christmas in the Stiles family holiday comings and goings. Charlie runs the local soup kitchen for the homeless and he and his wife Cindy were my parent’s first friends as newly weds. Every year we gather either at our house or theirs and we celebrate Christmas. The stories inherent would take more time to tell than I have but over the years we have met many guests at Christmas with the Hughes family in the role of “significant other”. This year is my first time to bring such a guest in my 24 years of nearly 35 years of tradition. I turn to Sarah and say, “After you.” “No, you first,” she says. The night is wonderful, the friends old and rich and the Christmas season is in full swing.

Saturday morning, we drive across town to my grandmother’s house, my dad’s mom. This year my grandmother is married, unlike any year I can recall before. Another difference is Dad’s brother Cliff has made the journey from Pennsylvania, one of only two or three visits I can recall in my lifetime. He brings his third wife Tracy, baby Connor, and my mumbling nine year old hurricane of a cousin Donnie. I say none of this with any kind of cynicism in my heart but I would be lying if I said that Cliff has had a good relationship with the family over the years. It is obvious we don’t always know what to say, but as the morning progresses, I am reminded of the endurance of family. At Christmas the playing field is level. I know little of my family history and upon asking my sister am told I’m better off not knowing, but I also know that healing is occurring and that Cliff and his family are surviving and growing for, perhaps, the first time. Our time is chaotic yet good and it is a lovely day out.

The weather demands walking and Sarah, my parents, and I spend the afternoon wandering Chattanooga’s north and south shores. I am dismayed at the speed with which I forget what a simply charming town this is. Interesting stores, coffee shops, riverside parks, bridges, a striking aquarium and even an art museum of postmodern twists and corners line both sides of the river. We eventually settle at the movie theater downtown and watch “The Pursuit of Happyness” (actually spelled happiness; see the movie, it’ll make sense). The movie is sweet, tragic and inspiring yet as I’ve thought back on it, I am saddened for two reasons. The first is that the main character’s dream of happiness is intrinsically tied to wealth and I believe wealth to be no solution for happiness though a solution for most anything else. Success is not measured in wealth as I am often reminded by various people I admire like my father or our friend Charlie. The second source of my sadness is that for every one person who travels from filthy rags to riches hundreds and thousands remain on the streets waiting for a bed in a shelter or a seat at a table with food on it. And on a more anal note, I can’t stand un-necessary narrators.
Christmas Eve is a mellow day of church and family with a candle-lit evening service and a dinner at our house afterwards. The dinner is the only time both sides of the family get together. At one point, I am asked to play guitar for the family and I realize all too well that I don’t respond as well to being asked to play as I do being told what to play. I need to work on this. I am also terribly out of practice right now. I need to work on this.

One new tradition is that the intermediate family now has Christmas on Christmas Eve. As dinner winds down and extended family leaves, my parents, sister, and brother-in-law gather to exchange presents. I love being past the age tearing through presents and find watching other people open and react to theirs encouraging. We are all past the age of really wanting or asking for things and most gifts our given out of shear thoughtfulness and I love the reasons for gift giving. My father, for instance, gave my mother a lovely vacation they have only talked about for years and wrote a poem on the inside of a book that detailed the dates, destination, and even the issues of finance. I was given two gifts that corresponded specifically to an idea as well. The book Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance is an author’s thoughts on moral life philosophy as he and his son rode their motorcycles across the American west. My dad and I have always talked of such a trip. I was also given George Harrison’s “All Things Shall Pass”, and was told that Harrison always felt he had no definite guitar style but would always try to play whatever it took to make the song most effective. I have always struggled with a musical identity and dad said this album reminded him of me. My parents are always extremely thoughtful and this Christmas was no exception on so many levels. These are the gifts I really treasure.

The remainder of the season was rather low key. I ran errands with my parents, got a hair cut, watched several movies, and did a variety of things I can’t really remember. Eventually, Sarah came back to join the family and we took her fly-fishing. It was a pleasant day on the river, overcast and cool. It was a beautiful winter scene and I hardly noticed the fish weren’t biting.

And apparently I have asthma. Well, I might, but near the end of my week, I went to see the doctor about my ever lingering cough. We discussed allergy problems and he listened to my breathing. “Hmm”, he would say with every exhale; this does not inspire confidence. “I think you have asthma,” he says, and I am sent to the hospital to take a lung capacity test. The lab technicians sat and talked gossip and their desire to drink margaritas at 10 in the morning. The woman actually manning the computer served more as a breathing coach, cheering me through each test like a hyper-active dog owner coaxing her new toy of a puppy through any number of tasks. “big breath, Big breath, BIG breath... BREATH OUT! GO GO GO!” I thought it hilarious. I had never been admitted to a hospital and wore my bracelet with pride for the remainder of the day.

I am now back in Nashville, having spent a nice, low key New Year’s Eve with some friends. I confess that when I started writing this blog that I thought I had a lot more to talk about but I can’t seem to remember any of it. You the reader may consider yourself fortunate. Before long, I will give a sort of “Year in Review” as I see it but we’ll take this one thing at a time. I will, instead, leave you with a few final thoughts.

I think we are quite fortunate to have a time of celebration that marks new life and rebirth. It is the coming of hope and a clean slate to make things right. I am reminded of this as I see my estranged uncle reintegrating into the family. I know that we shouldn’t rely on a holiday to celebrate the birth of Christ but I think the reminder is worth while as our lives our distracting enough as it is and the holiday season is even more distracting. For the truth is such great news! The King, the long expected Saviour has come! “Then the one who sits on the throne said, ‘Look! I am making all things new’” (Revelation 21:5). Great news indeed!

Happy New Year...

many laughs...

2006-12-09T13:12:00.000-08:00

I love the Onion as it never fails to make me smile. Perhaps that's a conditional love, but I can live with that. Today, the headline reads, "Egyptian Conservationalists Fight to Protect Dwindling Mummy Population" and the subsequent picture is as follows. Simply classic. There's some other winners up too so check them out.

Employment trends have continued as I am now a warehouse technician at Griffin Technologies here in Nashville. They are kind enough to let me work when I want and take off whenever I need which is extremely fortunate. This means I no longer sit at my computer all day but I can live with this. Today, however, is Saturday and I'm hanging out with childhoon companion Hunter who, sadly, was up all night with food poisoning and is now sleeping so I'm watching Street Fighter. I'd say this is a top three videogame turned movie, but not nearly as good as Mortal Kombat or, dare I say it, Resident Evil. I'm still amazed that these games have back stories. Cheers!

2006-12-03T20:25:00.000-08:00

I'm in heaven. Okay, not exactly, but I am in the heavenly bed at the Westin in Charlotte. The beds and showers here are both second to none and I consider myself grateful. I've spent the last couple of days working for Media Shout at the Youth Specialties convention here and it's certainly quite the departure from my routine. Having done the whole music thing for a while, it's strange representing a company, working in sales, and presenting myself in a more professionaly and less artistic manner. I'm enjoying it but simply because it's not a desk job but rather an out of town event in which I get to stay in a nice hotel and interact with a lot of friendly people; I like nice people. I'd still rather keep doing what I'm doing.

I can't say I've been up to a whole lot otherwise. I had a nice thanksgiving with my family and with Sarah's family. I'm extremely grateful the air is turning cold, that the leaves are almost fallen. I love the winter. It's getting late and I have to get up in less than five hours to head to the airport so I best get going to bed. I know I said a while back, for those who still follow this, that I was writing a blog about the trip I took to California. I really will finish it, I promise. I'm just not taking much time to blog these days, not like I used to, but hopefully that will change. Cheers!

shameless...

2006-11-15T10:00:00.000-08:00

Normally I don't allow this blog to be a forum for news concerning celebrities but today marks a special occasion. The one and only O.J. Simpson has taken time off from his still rigorous search for the man who killed his ex-wife and her friend Ronald Goldman. After so many years of turning over the rocks of America's golf courses, why stop now? I'm glad you asked. Hall of Famer Simpson has taken the time to write a book and film a TV special for Fox under the premise of "If I had killed my wife, which I didn't, this is how it would have happened." I'm not joking! And leave it to the Fox Network to air the thing. I guess he needs the money, considering he hasn't paid any of the 40 million dollars he owes the Goldman family. Simpson mentions nothing about his financial troubles, but he did provide some insight into his motivation: "I'm going to tell you a story you've never heard before, because no one knows this story the way I know it," Simpson writes in the publisher's release. "I want you to forget everything you think you know about that night, because I know the facts better than anyone." This is certainly one of the most appalling things I have ever heard for the sake of publicity. Anyway, just thought I should share my disgust. Cheers!

The Fire Theft

2006-11-14T08:46:00.000-08:00

I like this record a whole lot and so should you. I can't stop listening to it.

California blog coming soon, I swear.

the changing seasons...

2006-11-02T13:39:00.000-08:00

So I think it's been about a month since I've put anything up on here. I realize that I started this blog with the promise of frequent posting and I think I really tried to give it a good run for a while there but my digital expression seems to have fallen on hard times. I guess I just got tired of blogging about where I am and what I'm doing but I must be getting over it. That being said, I'm trying to finish writing a blog about my parents and I's trip to California last month. I wanted to put a bit more effort into it and am finding that anything I don't finish in one sitting will ultimately take forever. I am nearly finished but I still need about an hour in which I'm really in the mood to work on it so until then, I will leave you with a small update.

I'm in North Mississippi playing for a student event with my friend Jason Cox. It's at a School/Church so we're playing both mornings and evenings and even get to put in an appearance at the football game on Friday night. I hate football and I've heard some treacherous rumors about the national anthem. I am enjoying myself though so please don't think I'm reluctant to be here.

I haven't been to the movies much lately. The last film I saw was Michel Gondry's "The Science of Sleep" which I thoroughly enjoyed. Like his other movies, it's a charming combination of emotionally fragile characters and creative images. Gondry uses no computer generated visuals and relies on stop motion animation among other devices to craft a number of brilliant dream sequences. He's also a master of manipulating lighting and cameras to avoid the use of digital aid. Other than that, I can't say I've seen anything, unless you count Monsterfest on AMC which I've watched compulsively for the last ten days. No matter how many times I see Hellraiser, I still wonder why in the world I'm watching it. Those nasty Senobites!

I have collected an assortment of new records, however, as I am trying to compensate for nearly three months of no new music. I'm enjoying all of them and rather than describing them at length, I'll just give a quick summary. Mogwai's "Happy Songs for Happy People" is a nice mood record, Elliott Smith's "Figure 8" is the master multi-instrumentalist and songwriter at his best , HEM's new album "Funnel Cloud" is simple and beautiful, and MuteMath's debut rocks and is remarkably creative, especially for a "Christian" band. I'm presently listening to The Grays, a band formed in the mid 90's for one album by Jon Brion and Jason Falkner of Jellyfish fame, and I am completely hooked on it. The songs are brilliant, the sounds are brilliant, and unfortunately the record is out of print. I did find it on Amazon, however, after some joker on eBay wanted $45 bucks for a copy. I also picked up the new Deftones record on a recommendation and it's fantastic. I've never listened to them before and all preconcieved notions of the band as one of those useless "New Metal" groups were way off. The record sounds incredible and the songs are beautiful and passionate; it's good stuff.

It's so nice to be sucked into some new records after so many months of just not getting into anything. The Grays make me want to start a band, Elliott Smith makes me want to write, HEM makes any kind of day beautiful, and the other records, combined with these three, are all really encouraging me to reapproach the way I play the guitar. I've recently noticed a stark shift in the way I'm playing. It might not be noticable to other people but I've been trying to muster the courage to revolt against the post-U2 worship guitar playing that's been so expected of me the last few years. I'm tired of playing the way people think I should play in the circles I walk in; no more "Sound like this guy and you can play here". I'm conciously trying to revamp the way I approach a new song rather than defaulting to the safest path. With the help of this Grays record, I've been settling back into some albums that reflect the kind of player I really want to be and for the first time in a couple years am approaching the guitar with a completely new set of influences. Other key records in this process have been Jellyfish's "'Spilt Milk", Aimee Mann's "Lost in Space", and Patty Griffin's "Flaming Red", the latter two of which I've owned for a while but have never really taken the time to get into the guitars on those records. If God has truly called me to this profession, which I believe he has, I must constantly strive to be my best technically, sonically, relationally, and creatively. I confess to letting myself go the last several months but I feel that season coming to an end.

So here's to new beginnings. Just because the leaves are falling doesn't mean I cannot experience a season of growth. Keep watching for a short essay about my trip to California; it wont be long, I promise. Thanks to all of you who keep checking this blog in spite of little to no posting, even if it's only my dad and my girlfriend! Okay, I know that's not true but they're dependable people so what can I say! Cheers!

a request for prayer...

2006-10-18T13:50:00.000-07:00

I would like to make those of you who are praying people and even those who aren't aware of a prayer need from my church family. Michael and Jana Kelley are friends of mine and many of my friends who found out today that their 2 year-old son Joshua has lukemia. He has been admitted to Vanderbilt Children's Hospital and doctors are presently discussing treatment. Please pray for Michael, Jana, and Joshua. Thank you.

going out of business...

2006-10-18T13:49:00.000-07:00

A note to all you Nashville peeps... Tower Records is going out of busniess and is liquidating their entire inventory which is quite large. They've got a pretty good sale on so check it out.

Watch for a new blog, coming soon. I'm sorry it's been so long.

Cheers!

confused...

2006-09-27T11:09:00.000-07:00

I've had a bit more down time than I'm used to the last few days. After spending last week doing demolition for my brother-in-law in Chattanooga, I have settled into a state that by comparison makes me feel lazy. I'm spending time with friends, reading, watching the occasional movie while waiting on the mail (that will hopefully bring my new license plate or computer battery), and trying to play some guitar. Notice I said trying. Two days ago, I sat down on the porch with my favorite instrument (click Charis on the sidebar) to try and hash out some fingerstyle pieces I've slowly been learning. I haven't played in over week due to the demolition work and my fingers feel sluggish. The strings are old and dead and the guitar just isn't responding like I had hoped; acoustic strings are heartbreakingly expensive and I have decided to hold on to my money for more important things like food. Needless to say, I played for about 15 minutes and sat the guitar down, mourning a sudden lack of inspiration. Yesterday, I plugged into my amp to give the electric a run, hoping for better results, but that only lasted about 10 minutes before I got bored and absent-minded. This bothers me.

I've been thinking about this lately, this sudden lack of inspiration. I'm not playing much, I'm not writing much, and I'm not all that excited about the arts these days. I'm finding my time with God to be stale and unfulfilled and life in general is a bit blah, save my friends and certain close relationships, such as Sarah my girlfriend, which, fortunately, are improving after a full summer of disconnection.

A few weeks ago, I was sitting with my friend Nate, sharing some conversation on various points of common interest over a pint of Guinness. As we talked about the church, movies, music, and politics, I found excitement growing in a way I hadn't felt in a while. I wanted to play, write and create, watch movies and maybe even start a film discussion group at church. A few days later, I went with my friend Scott to see this band called Muse and I left with this incredible excitement over playing and performing. This past weekend, I sat in church and listened to Donald Miller talk about changing our perspective on ministry and reaching out to the lost. He shared this passage from Acts 17 about Paul preaching in Athens and I found myself more excited about ministry than I have been in weeks or months even. With interests rising, why the sudden feelings of disjointed living this week?

I'm beginning to realize how I have limited my exposure to the things that inspire me. I haven't bought a CD in over two months, I haven't cracked a new book in just as long, and I haven't been searching for God in scripture and prayer like I know I desire. Rush, love them or them, once said that nothing can survive in a vacuum, which is precisely what I have placed myself in. Today I resolve to change this.

I want to be reminded of the things that excite me. If you'll notice, I've added some links on the blog. I've been taking the time to consider the musicians who make me want to do what I do, the records that make me love music, the movies that make sense of life, and the God who makes me love. In the interest of self-preservation, I've decided to start posting about the things, places, and people that inspire me. This is no attempt to try and feed my ego by sharing my various "hip" interests, but an act of necessity to salvage the simple joy in the day to day of my life and I invite all you readers to share with me in the seemingly trivial and profound.

On the note of profound, I am heading to Yosemite National Park this Friday with my parents. I have always wanted to go and I eagerly anticipate the humility that comes from standing in the most beautiful of God's creation. I'll take pictures. Cheers!

Oceania

2006-09-14T23:04:00.000-07:00

Blogging has been a bit scarce these days. I realize that my worth is not the product of the words contained here in, but I do appreciate the fact that somebody reads this and I want to respect that. Thank you for reading, Dad. I’ll be honest and say that I haven’t really felt like writing that much in spite of the fact that I have a generous amount of free time. I tend to approach the blogging process a bit more like the gossip column in the local paper, kind of the whole crack it open and read up on what Whit’s been doing out on the town. That was never the point behind this blog and I guess I’m struggling with the purpose of it these days. I’m also presently struggling to write as the guy at the table next to me is allowing his four-year-old to run around the shop screaming. Sex makes babies people, accept it. And somebody tell Brittany Spears while we’re at it.

The truth is that I’m finding the world to be a much more discouraging place than it used to be. Now, I’m fully aware that this probably isn’t true but for some reason it’s really getting to me. A while back I spent some time talking about George Orwell’s “1984”. Ever since I read that book I’ve found the news to be more discouraging, the government more despicable, and ignorance so much more attractive. I went through a phase a while back where my increasing awareness of political and social issues resulted in a backlash of sorts against the conservative agenda. I was enraged at the poverty and injustice of the world, or at least I thought I was. I quickly realized how attracted I was to being a voice of objection rather than the voice-less acceptance I had known for most of my life. I was mad at the church for telling me how to think and not encouraging me to ask questions and to get dirty and vulnerable before God. I was mad at the selfishness of our country, the hoarding of wealth, the political bullying, and the gross destruction of the environment. I still believe all of these things to be wrong but I must confess the error of my intentions.

I have never desired ignorance, God has given me a mind and I truly intend to use it. At this point, the liberal revolution has slowed and cooler heads have prevailed. I want to stand by my beliefs, my values, and my opinions with well considered reasons and I am learning to reinforce certain ideals and dismiss others as impulsive. All in all, I think I am becoming a well-informed individual. In fact, I am growing increasingly irritated and discouraged with the frightening number of people my age who have no idea why they believe what they believe or stand up for what they do; there is too much at stake these days to not.

So why the mention of “1984”? I can honestly say that this book has haunted me like nothing I have ever read and I will explain shortly. But first, for those of you who haven’t read it, let me give you a brief, spoil-free, overview of the novel and then promptly go buy the book and read it. The story is centered around a man named Winston, a common citizen in a nation referred to as Oceania, which is geographically is really more like a modern day British empire. Oceania is run by a totalitarian regime that desires to control every aspect of its resident’s lives from their jobs to their hobbies, friends, and even mates. Free thought, or thought crime as it is called, is the most serious offense of the land and everything from writing to pleasurable sex is an example of it. People die for this crime. The head of this regime is Big Brother, a figure who may or may not truly exist but governs with an iron first and valiantly battles the ceaseless enemies of Oceania, Eastasia and Eurasia, who are constantly changing from foes to allies and to foes again. The funny thing is that no one really knows why the present enemy nation is just that, the enemy. They are simply told who the enemy is and asking questions leads to death because Oceania needs the full support of its people, including their thoughts. It is Winston’s job to alter the public records so that no one remembers, it is his job to forget. All the while propaganda is rampant as the citizens are constantly told of attacks from the faceless enemy only known as Eastasia or Eurasia and how the valiant Big Brother stopped it and will eventually destroy the enemy threat all together. But the truth is that Oceania, Eastasia, and Eurasia need each other in order to maintain a balance of fear in their people and thus sustain their power. In a world where thought is a crime and ignorance is freedom, fear is the single greatest device at the government’s disposal to keep the nation in line. Winston begins to think freely and longs for hope in a rumored opposition called “The Brotherhood” before it is too late.

I was watching the news one day, maybe a couple of months ago, and the voice was talking about a bombing in a rather random location, not Iraq or any place like that. He was very quick to say, “It is unclear at this time who is responsible but Al Qaeda is suspected,” and I just wanted to scream, “Of course they aren’t responsible, it isn’t freaking Iraq!” In that moment, I thought how paranoid people must be as the news media tries so desperately to put a face to a faceless threat. I thought that Al Qaeda is so much more an idea than an actual group of people, just a name given by our country to something they don’t control and certainly don’t understand. In that moment, Al Qaeda became Eurasia, or Eastasia, the faceless enemy of civilized existence and victim of vicious propaganda. I thought about how the media loves to say its name, spreading fear all over this country. I thought about our co-dependance, how they have no agenda without us and we have no war and thus nothing to gain from the Middle East without them.

Recently I’ve been reading a lot of headlines about President Bush. He’s been giving a lot of speeches these days, seeking public support for a fruitless war. He’s trying to get congress to approve activities he’s been doing illegally for years, seeking further wire-tapping, harsher methods of interrogation, and greater invasion of privacy. Bush is visibly frustrated every time I see him on television, wasting no opportunity to tell us of the threat of terrorism and the need for war to protect us. He even used his 9/11 speech as a platform for the war, something I regard as very disrespectful to the victims and their families. Every time I hear him speak, I can’t help but think he’s trying to scare us into support. Don’t get me wrong, I believe terrorism to be evil, a very real and formidable threat and something to be dealt with, but Iraq is not the real problem in the Middle East (Saddam Hussein is off his rocker and his country was an easy target as opposed to the highly organized, capable, and motivated Iran). I am grieved that a man in a position of great power is leading this nation not in strength but in fear.

When I read a book like “1984” or see a movie like “V for Vendetta”, I wonder how that kind of a world could come to exist but the more I watch the news, the more I know how. If the people have enough to fear, they will continue to bestow an increasing supply of power upon their leaders. The Patriot Act, a bill passed by a very bi-partisan congress who was angry over 9/11 and fearful about the future, is a first step in this process of unreasonable power escalation. Many people now consider the act a mistake and while the country is certainly safer under the Patriot Act, the precedence set is a dangerous step in the direction of absolved privacy. I don’t like the fact that the government probably knows that I’ve visited websites claiming conspiracy surrounding 9/11. I don’t like the fact being Muslim or even just Arab in this country makes you a risk and a candidate for wire taps. Thought and speech are free in this country unless it’s threatening, in which case you’ll be arrested and labeled a terrorist or at least entered into a frighteningly large database at the National Counter-terrorism Center, a database with millions of names in it. The fact that Bush is presently pressing congress for freedom to circumvent the law tells me how real such a world can be and this scares me; I pray congress says no. How can we set up democracies around the world and be trying to get around the process here?

A great historical figure once said that democracy is not the best form of government, it’s just the best have so far. If democracy is going to continue to work, we have to vote and we have to be educated in our decisions. I cannot stand it when people say they are going to vote for a certain person because they are a Republican or a Democrat, or that they’ll vote for Hillary because she’s a woman or for Bush because he’s a Christian, having no knowledge of the how the candidate stands on various issues. The issues at hand are far too complex for a candidate to be chosen based on one factor, a truth I am guilty of ignoring. Take an interest in the future of healthcare and Social Security, on education, trade and labor laws, immigration, and foreign policy. Don’t give someone an absurd amount of power and control over unfathomable wealth and influence based on petty details! God gave you a mind and he intends for you to use it!

Literature has long since been a source of the world’s greatest wisdom and human commentary, from the Bible to Plato, Elliott, and Salinger. There is something to be said for the conviction that would drive a man to such a disciplined act as writing a book worth understanding. I also like to think we study literature for reasons other than its artistic value. Something got a hold of George Orwell, maybe the way Hitler worked his way into power, and led him to tell a story that is more a plea for the preservation of humanity than it is anything. It is a plea that we pay attention, devoting all our senses to the world around us, that we may know when something is wrong and that we may possess the courage to stand against it. I refuse to follow the path of ignorance and blindly accept the conditions of the world. When I account for my life before my God, I want to be able to say that, in faith, I stood for something that truly matters and that I knew why it mattered. All global issues must be viewed as spiritual issues for we are God’s people and all people were made in His image; I certainly believe that matters and I pray my life reflect it.

soggy shoes...

2006-09-02T09:31:00.000-07:00

I'm presently sitting in the Hampton Inn in a tropical-storm-riddled Farmington, New Jersey, nursing wet shoes. The last week has been loaded with activity from first-time life experiences to travel galore. There is so much to share but rather than started at the beginning, I suppose I'll start with today.

Today was supposed to be the final show of Plumb's 2006 calendar, on account of pregnancy, and we flew up yesterday by way of New York's JFK. The venue said the event, an outdoor festival with a projected attendance of 15000, would be rain or shine, but probably rain given Ernesto's jaunt up the Atlantic Coast. This morning we got up to head to an impossibly early load-in but our ride was late. After some answer-less calls, the event promoter walks in the door and informs us our show has been cancelled. The weather has just been too overwhelming and their biggest hope is get some of the speakers on stage, such as Steven Baldwin, and the headliners which are Reliant K and the Newsboys.

What happened to the rain or shine you might ask? Well, I'll tell you. At first, we blamed the venue for not having a covered stage but come to find out, the storm actually ripped the top off stage. We got booked on the main stage, for once, but this would come back to bite us as the secondary stage still had roof intact. With this in mind, Justin and Grey, our key and bass player respectively, and I jumped into a van with some guys from MXPX to check out whether or not we could find a way to play. Our driver worked the 15 passenger like an Andretti on his way to Olive Garden. Fallen trees blocked roads all over and we had to work our way around the blockages.

Eventually we get to the venue and it's a total traffic jam. Our driver is trying to get us backstage and security wont even let the bands through. After a bunch of waiting, the guys from MXPX get out of the van in search of catering. We quickly were informed there was no chance of playing and after a bit of hanging out with our hyper-charismatic driver, eventually decide to go drop off MXPX's gear and head back to the hotel. Before long we get stuck in the mud and spend the next 45 minutes trying to find a way to get the van out. The next hour is spent dealing with a variety of weather issues from more fallen trees to more mud to running in the rain; I'll spare further details.

I'm now sitting at home in Nashville as travel arrangements interrupted the blogging process. In short, we get a ride back to JFK and get our flight changed so we can leave the same afternoon and avoid spending the night in rural New Jersey. The airport makes for an interesting afternoon as the ticketing agents keep passing us around to other ticketing lines, perhaps because they don't want to handle six people, an infant, and several hundred pounds of equipment. Our flight gets delayed on account of the storm, but eventually we get onto the plane.

Rain drenches the side of the plane, streaking and splintering down the window like lightning. The wind shakes the plane with every gust and quite frankly, I wasn't terribly excited about taking off. Forty-five minutes later, the plane sits on the runway, still rocking in the wind, and we begin to roll. Warning signs flickered in my mind as the plane failed to gather speed and before long, we had pulled off the runway and were working our way back to the gate. Apparently some aircraft have a maintenance censor that triggers in high winds. After restarting the plane, we take off, the wind tossing us around for the next twenty minutes. It was a stressful flight.

I also got to go to Destin this past week for a few days R&R with Sarah and my family. I have to laugh when I consider that I spent several days in Florida and saw no trace of Tropical Storm Ernesto yet I wind up in New Jersey and get pelted by the storm. It's funny.

In other news, I just bought a new car. It's a 2004 Honda Accord LX. It's got a bunch of room in it and it'll run till Jesus comes back. I'll post some pictures when I get my camera back; I left it in Florida. Cheers!

i hate technology...

2006-08-23T00:13:00.000-07:00

My phone broke, AGAIN!!! It's dead, completely, so don't try to call me. Please send me an email or something if you want to get in touch. Cheers!

PS. It's Sarah's birthday today (the 23rd)!!! If you read this, and if you can see this you do, and know her, please drop her a line. If you don't know her, shame on you!

the sound of settling...

2006-08-15T14:52:00.000-07:00

Today I sit and ponder the sounds of settling back into a routine. The summer has been filled with voices, their thoughts and their melodies, vibrating bunks and strings, and the certainly musical hum of diesels, jet engines, and vacuum tubes. As the summer progressed, the hum in my amp grew louder as both the tubes and my body grew increasingly weary. The heart hums as well; its overtones cry for the familiar though the heart is often restless. The skilled musician often chooses notes based on the way they decay and collide with other notes, growing increasingly bored with the fundamental. In this moment, I am grateful to be hearing the overtones.

The summer has, after all, been the most eventful of my life, or at least the busiest. I’ve traveled to twenty five states since the first of May from New York to California. I’ve always found joy in experiencing the new and I’ve certainly had my surprises. Of everywhere I’ve been, there are a few stand-outs. Take Madison, Wisconsin, for instance. The capitol building is a hill-top citadel in a city surrounded by lakes where I was met with Spring-like weather and dozens of interesting places within walking distance. Pittsburgh showed a remarkable amount of heart for a steel town and Utah still looks like a land from the early American West.

The flawless cap to a Summer’s travel, however, was certainly California. Driving through Los Angeles awakened a childhood curiosity I’ve not felt in years as so many movies, songs, and stories came to life. Just as movies command my attention like little else, the land of their birth proved as fascinating as anywhere I’ve been in the world. Driving north, the golden landscape put me in a state I cannot clearly explain and with each brilliant night sky and each blinding sunrise I reveled in God’s capacity to renew the body and spirit. I am thankful for California and the week I spent there sleeping on the ground with my friends. I am also grateful I get to return in a little over a month.

While I regret nothing from this Summer, I am certainly experiencing the consequences of my travels. I can honestly say I feel distant from everyone I know, save the one person I talked to the most while traveling (she knows who she is). I am finding it difficult to achieve depth with the people I once shared so much with. A lack of connection yields to insecurities and I’m finding that my biggest struggle at the present is reconnecting with those I love. I know this will happen.

My spirit is also extremely tired and I am frustrated by the lack of solitude and deep thought I’m experiencing. Much of the enthusiasm and drive for global issues, missions, and my own spiritual development has been lost in my transient living. This is easily remedied with some discipline and necessary silence and perhaps a bit of reading. I stopped into Davis-Kidd this morning and acquired two books to perhaps instill a bit of drive in my thought process. One is a Henry Nouwen book on prayer and the other is a series of short essays by Wendell Berry called “The Way of Ignorance and Other Essays,” concerning various domestic and global ideas and issues. I was struck by the idea that our ignorance can be measured by our knowledge and that even the most knowledgeable people is still ignorant to something. One thing I don’t want to be is ignorant to the world. This is entirely important as I form my opinions about culture, politics, finances, and the environment. I believe that our knowledge of such things as Christians deepens the level to which faith can influence our world. God has given me a mind and desires me to use it; I must never forget this. Isn’t making right decisions more important than ever?

Yesterday, I watched Oliver Stone’s “World Trade Center”. I will spare a review and rather just ask you to see it. The movie did throw fuel on a fire of conviction I have battling the last few weeks. I confess arrogance over the way my political opinions have formed in the last year. I have felt this sense of enlightenment over the shedding of my conservative roots and while I stand by much of it, various opinions have been mis-guided.

With the aforementioned importance of making right choices, I have had a change of heart, aided in part by this movie and by one of my favorite books. You see, there are certain things in which the obligation to the right thing is more important than the smaller ideas available to us. The movie was a hard reminder of the evil I have lost amidst the politics of the world post 9/11. I once wrote of Tolkien’s “The Lord of the Rings” as a lesson in the necessity for good in this world. Tolkien writes of a great evil that demands the focus and attention of the entire world, whether or not the people there believe in war. With Stone’s reminder of evil, I have grown increasingly aware of the Middle East and the dangers of being oblivious to the evil there. As misguided our military’s presence can be, perhaps the time is coming in which we must fight to simply preserve the good that remains in this world. It is not the good of the American way that must be defended but good for the sake of the greater human cause.

At long last, I have returned to the Portland Brew for a nice afternoon of the finest coffee and sandwiches in Nashville. It has been much too long since I have been able to sit and just be for a while. I finally get to catch up on a bit of reading, writing, and movie going that I have missed out on this summer. Relationships may now be reforged and those that have remained may grow stronger. After several months experiencing song out of necessity, I am hoping the present sounds of settling are received not in restlessness but in privilege. Cheers!

unbelievable...

2006-08-09T08:27:00.000-07:00

I recently came upon this site, Slice of Laodicea, through a friend's blog and it's simply unbelievable. I get sucked into things like this, harboring mixed emotions of amusement and discouragement over the way Christians in this world can show such arrogance over their beliefs and such ignorance with regards to even other Christians. It's pretty interesting stuff.

to everything a purpose and a blog, blog, blog

2006-07-21T08:09:00.000-07:00

A wise man once said that there is a season for everything. Another man added a catchy reminder that these seasons have a tendency to turn, that life travels in cycles, phases, or whatever. Wisdom has a lot of different shapes and forms and truth can still be truth despite the messenger’s invalidities; that’s what I like about it so much. For instance, of the two men mentioned above, one was a womanizer to the degree that he lost the greatest fortune the world had known up to his time, maybe even today. The second was a guitar-toting hippy who took his fair share of acid and borrowed most of his wisdom from the first save one great truth: the seasons turn and turn again.

I presently know this truth well as my life is quite the reminder these days; I feel as if I’ve passed through every season in a matter of weeks in more ways than I could have imagined. Presently, travel finds me in the Dallas/Ft. Worth Metroplex. A three and a half hour layover is a cruel thing in a place like this; if you don’t know how I feel about Texas, please read down the blog a little bit. I have found myself in this wretched state for this third time this summer; at least with Hell you only go once. This is the summer of my travels, both literally and metaphorically. The budding and flourishing spring that was the sublimely hectic thirty city bus tour has given way to three weeks of camps in sweltering yet relaxing environments. Two weeks in Oklahoma, the second week of which I’m on my way back to, and a week in Southern California follows. This is a time of airports, a dozen or so in the next two months, and a time of sitting still.

And good gracious it’s hot. Texas is a hazy stew of sweat, the breeze in Oklahoma feels like standing under a blow-drier and even my beloved Nashville left me sweating while gathering the clutter in my car at 4:30 this morning! I enjoy heat about as much as I enjoyed the time I accidentally got gas in my eyes as a child and in my despair I cry out. California! Welcome this weary soul and console me with your sweet Pacific breeze.

A weary soul indeed. My body has experienced all the rest it can stand but my spirit has been exhausted for weeks. I am amazed at the refreshing power of prayer, scripture, and community and even more amazed at the shadow their absence makes of me. For all the legalistic spins on “quiet times” the church has sent me away with over the years, the truth of the restorative nature of solitude with God and community with people of the Spirit sounds like a bell. Two weeks ago, I was the impostor, a man who felt no connection between body and soul, or what Tolkien once described as being thin, “like butter over too much bread.” I sat on the hilltop in Oklahoma last week and tried hard to slow my mind and let my guard down and gradually found the restoration I had been hurting for. I marvel at how two months ago I was experiencing so much joy and fulfillment in my travels and how as recent as a week ago I was emotionally barren. I presently write as the self I am familiar with; my mind, body, and soul rests easy and clear.

All around me I am hearing stories of weariness. I have friends dissatisfied with jobs, one considering moving away, and one who abruptly lost her job at the hands of a cruel employer. Sarah has experienced the blessing of being offered a new job the very same week, however, and I have been blessed by her having no job during my time at home. Violence is multiplying in the Middle East and I’ve heard weary voices speak of World War III. I jump to no conclusions and refuse to fear that which I have no control over.

Speaking of no control, my car is finally coming to the end of its rope. If the EPA had its way, my car would be pulled to pieces and melted down for ball bearings or something, but for the time being I must deal with the inconvenience of not being able to renew my registration. The car is not worth the repair needed to legalize it so I must search for a new car. I need a car that gets good gas milage, is somewhat fun to drive, most likely Japanese, and preferably a stick-shift. Oh, and it has to have room for all of my musical gear (i.e. big trunk!) Any ideas?

I’ve come by some new records lately, namely Thom Yorke’s “The Eraser” (thank you darling) and Muse’s “Black Holes and Revelations”. I listened to both on the plane this morning and I would encourage anyone with an interest in Radiohead to get both records. Thom seems to be expressing even more of his woes with fame and the world at large, something he does beautifully in the absence of his brilliant band mates, his affiliation with whom make the record worth a listen anyway. The new Muse is not quite as dramatic as their last disc “Absolution” and it includes some nice hooks in-between the chaos as well, something that sets this one apart a bit. Whether you liked their last album or not, this is a great disc. Check them both out.

Airport boredom is setting in and I’ve got to move around a bit. My apologies for the long wait (if any of you have been waiting for a post, my sincere thanks) and hopefully I can get another up soon. I’ll be home first week of August and can hopefully regain a sense of normal life after that. Stop by for a cookout or some coffee or something. Cheers!

home...and a prairie home companion

2006-06-27T13:54:00.000-07:00

I am sitting on the roof of a 58 story apartment building in downtown Chicago, legs dangling over the edge, comptemplating the wind and battling a newly formed fear of heights. Atop our perch in the heart of the city, I can see every major Chicago landmark and structure with little to no obstruction and I am in awe of it all. My friends sit close by and laugh, telling stories and giving their cynical 20-something responses, but I remain mostly silent, just staring at the city, marveling at how the Sears Tower, which is remarkable close and presently under a terrorist threat, is more than twice the terrific height I'm sitting at. The whole thing is just breath-taking and I realize how much bigger all of this is that I am.

This has been a theme running through my life of late, the realization of my insignificance, the fraility of my circumstances, and the awesome ride the whole thing is. My microscopic piece of the picture is a blast, making the rest of the picture this daunting mystery, but a mystery I have joyfully explored on the ever-continuing path to illumination. Most recently, this tour, from which I have now returned home, has shown me the goodness of God and his provision as I have played and lived with people I call friends for the last two months, void of my insecurites and full of blessings just like the roof-top in Chicago.

The highlight of the last few shows occured at the end of our set in the last show. We had, with much trepidation, concocted a plot with our opening act from the tour, Omnisoul, that we would cover one of their songs with our own lyrics and they would do the same with one of our songs. The band was a bit nervous about doing it and at the end of our set, Omnisoul came to the front of the stage, dressed like each member of Plumb. They donned fake beards, wigs, make-up, clothing, and the singer even stuffed his shirt to look pregnant like Tiffany. It was simply hilarious. They're good guys we've really enjoyed hanging out with and it was a nice way to say goodbye.

Being home has been nice though I confess that I am feeling a bit of restlessness coming on. I have nothing do to which usually isn't a problem but today I'm going a bit crazy. I have been watching my fair share of movies so far. I saw "The Lake House", and "Life as a House" with Sarah. The first was a bit lame and honestly confusing, though the company was good. The second was a nice movie with a touching story that kind of makes you want to do something worthwhile with your life. Kevin Kilne was great and speaking of Kevin Kline, I just saw "A Prairie Home Companion". He is one part of a terrific ensemble of men and women who give great life to a show I love. Garrison Keilor has created one of the most consistent and charming pieces of Americana around, the last great voice of radio in the AM tradition save maybe the Grand Ole Opry, and his movie is entirely befitting of the show's legacy. I simply smiled from start to finish.

Okay, that's enough about me for the time being. Happy Wednesday. Cheers!

until they go free: 3 days...

2006-06-22T14:20:00.000-07:00

A dreary morning gave way to brilliant sun here in the Windy City. Chicago is a city I know as well as any other I've never lived in and given the current level of exhaustion and yucky head cold, I have little motivation to explore. This morning, we played on WGN's morning show and I felt strangely nostalgic roaming the halls of the studio that gave us Bozo the Clown, Romper Room, and of course, those terribly endearing WB shows like Everwood and Seventh Heaven. Actually, I must confess the guily pleasure that was Buffy the Vampire Slayer but I digress...I do love Chicago, though. I'm only a few blocks from Wrigley Field, a place that holds as much nostalgia as any location I visited in my youth. Despite my waning interest in sports, I find the place magical.

The tour is winding down in all ways possible. After the strongest shows of the tour, we had only 20 people come out to the show last night, leaving us slightly disenchanted with the last two shows still to come. My health is winding down as I am finding it increasingly irritating sleeping in what might as well be a coffin. My lingering cough has finally passed but my body is apparently not coping with wellness and has decided to come down with flu for the second time this year; I never used to get sick. The band is slowly seeking independence, irritation comes easy, and the bus just plain smells. It's gross.

We really are having fun still but it's good and time for a break. I miss my bed, my friends, I miss driving, showering when I want to, etc. I miss my church and the community that comes with it. I do not, however, miss the fear of over-drawing my bank account or the feeling that I'm not getting to play ever. I've grown in so many ways in these short two months on the road and hope it's not too terribly long before I can do it again. The band is meshing so well on stage and off and I've made some new friends in this time. Next time I just hope we get to use hotel rooms. Speaking of, I get about 20 minutes in one if a bit to take a shower so I best get moving. Cheers!

Can you legislate morality?

2006-06-18T21:52:00.000-07:00

A little over a week ago, the senate voted on a Constitutional amendment that would ban gay marriages from taking place in the United States. They voted against the amendment and I confess I felt relief. I have struggled with this issue for a long time for two primary reasons. The first is that I believe homosexuality to be a sin, one of many sexual sins the Bible speaks out against and that followers of the word should abstain from. Like many sins, it is widely accepted in our culture; it is a part of our landscape. I know the law I live under, a law of grace and mercy that yields a process of sanctification. With that sanctification comes abstinence from certain things, sins if you will, which would include something like homosexuality. But what about the person who does not know grace? Can they be expected to follow the same code, especially if it is imposed on them by politicians who are often hypocrites? No, they cannot.

The second issue is a question I have considered for some time now: Can you legislate morality? What is the role of government and law-makers? Laws should be written in the best interest of the public, the voters, the people who give the law-makers power. Laws should reflect the voice of the people and the people are coming from a lot of different places. Different races, religions, and opinions permeate the population which would yield a variety of moral codes and obligations. Could it be possible for lawmakers to standardize this for so many different people? I would argue not. This is why there will always be drug dealers or prostitutes (among other reasons). There will always be the black and white issues like murder or tax fraud or any number of clear-cut ethical and legal issues in this country but what about the grey? Take abortion, for instance. What happens will a girl is raped by her father and becomes pregnant? Or euthanasia? It’s not just life issues mingling in the grey but also wire-tapping and surveillance, bills like the Patriot Act that get grossly misused and demand debate yet with no clear answer. There are all kinds of grey areas that no resolute decisions could ever be made about. And Christians should be no strangers to this; predestination anyone?

This brings me back to the issue of gay marriage. Immorality is something I see through the lens of my faith but something I see for what it is, sin. I do believe, though, that all people are children of God and should be treated that way regardless of whether or not they live in immorality. “You without sin cast the first stone,” was such a powerful and loaded statement with personal, social, and legal implications. Jesus trumped the law, but he did it through personal conviction, through example. If gay marriage were legal, I would imagine a modern parallel would be showing homosexuals kindness and love, allowing them to find faith and repent through their own process of sanctification rather than trying to legally impose upon them. I would argue that the Christian response is one that occurs despite the law rather than through the law.

Christianity was never intended to have the government’s protection but was designed, rather, to be a counter culture operating in the face of the government’s opposition. Christians should still abide in morality no matter their government; we have grown too comfortable with our protection and need to learn to quit taking it for granted. The faithful in countries like China, Sudan, or in the Middle East are a great example of this, living joyfully in the face of life-threatening persecution. Homosexuals who became Christians are to pursue sanctification just as anyone else but those who do not cannot be expected to live under its standards. The government should not be depended upon to maintain our Christian morality but should reflect its people in the spirit of democracy, a spirit we are losing in our greed driven culture and should be fighting to maintain. We are a country of conservatives and liberals, faithful and agnostics, homosexuals and so on; it is not the government’s job to protect the Christian morality.

I distinctly remember a phone conversation I had with my mother on the day of the last presidential election. She had called to tell me my grandfather had been diagnosed with cancer. Earlier that day, my heart had been broken as a class I was taking discussed the bi-partisan (this is not some liberal soap-box! I will never accept that some wealthy power-seeking politician, no matter their party or ideals, could ever understand the true needs of those who aren’t wealthy or powerful) short-comings in caring for the poor and broken people in our world. I haven’t the time to go into detail, but with the added news of my grandfather’s terminal state, I emotionally collapsed. Mom asked me if I was alright and I said no, that I felt completely defeated because neither of the men trying to buy their way into the most powerful position of leadership in the world cared the least for anything I thought was important. I simply cried and I realized that I could never depend on politicians, Christian or not, to stand up for the things that Christ would have. As a Christian, I had to stand myself and fight for that which is worth fighting for and I have since taken comfort in the many faithful around the world who have stood up to persecution and fought for what is right. This is my obligation as a person of faith, to stand up for what I believe in, be it an issue of morality, human rights, or the sanctity of human life - whether my government supports me or not.

Can you legislate morality? Sometimes, but I find it dark territory to be walking in as a clear answer now might not always be clear and because most answers this day in age aren’t clear anyway. In fact, I would rather the government not try and legislate the grey. The better question, I am finding, is this: Should we depend on the government to legislate our morality? Never. Walk upright on the path of sanctification if it is a path you seek, never take security for granted, and when the government and population at large threaten our ideals or show signs of persecution for the Christian morality, rejoice; that’s what Jesus said to do!

One day, I hope to marry a woman I love like no one else in this world and take on all the responsibility marriage entails. How can I tell a couple of the same sex who feels the same way that they cannot enjoy the same benefits of marriage that I hope to? How can I tell someone like Curtis, an old and loved family friend, that he and his partner of 25 years don’t truly love each other? Instead I must pray people like Curtis find the same love and grace in Christ that I have and be brought into repentance and sanctification. I believe true marriage in the eyes of God to be a union between a man and a woman, but many marriages have no respect for its sanctity as it is. Marriage is a joke to many people in society and to acuse homosexuals of ruining the sanctity of marriage is to turn a blind eye to generations prior.

I also find it important to say that when Christians with a platform, espcially politicians and religious leaders, openly fight and criticize gay rights, they are not showing love but rather demeaning these people into a place where Christ's love is mis-represented and therefor unappealing to people who desperately need it. Openly fighting a word and media war against a large and vocal part of our society is not an action of love and not what we are called to. There are better methods of loving homosexuals than fighting them with Constitutional amendments and I consider it time for Christians to quit relying on a corrupt government to protect us rather than faith in God to get us through the changing times. Christ is far more capable than the Senate and I will trust Him to abide in marriage over a hundred men and women of power and their laws any day.

the best laid plans of record company executives...

2006-06-17T10:25:00.000-07:00

Denver is the city of the moment, a La Quinta Inn the seat of my choosing. Sarah says La Quinta is Spanish for Denny's which makes me laugh. Yesterday, we all ate lunch together when Jeremy, Tiffany's husband, called her and our tour manager Trey and told them to get back to the hotel as quickly as possible. Warning signs were everywhere and a few hours later we all gathered in the front lounge of our bus for a meeting. The label has been promising us the necesarry tour support to complete this run of thiry or so shows but yesterday the GM decided to pull it. Tiffany and Jeremy could by no means support the tour and the decision was made to come home a week early. I made a phone call and told a select person that I was coming home and I quickly got excited at the prospect of being back. I submitted to our defeat and was content in our resignation.

This morning, however, I was awakened to fresh news. It would seem that the president of the label is quite the Plumb fan and did not appreciate the actions shown towards us. He fully reinstated tour support and we are underway for the rest of the trip which is 8 days, five shows, and a morning show appearance on WGN (it's nationwide so tune in!). We will return home on the 25th as planned. I'm glad we get to finish and the spirits on the bus are high. Oh the drama...

Okay, that's it for now. I've promised a more thought provoking entry in the near future on both this blog and to a special someone and since tomorrow (Sunday) is that special someone and I's anniversary of sorts, I believe I will comply. I never intended the blog to simply be a log of my day to days so I think this one's going to be political...cheers!

I'd rather go to hell than texas...ok, not really...

2006-06-11T17:42:00.000-07:00

Davey Crockett, why?!? Tennessee has so few heros to cling to and I have to ask the question, why did you leave our beautiful home to die in Texas? If I watched the Alamo, I might know the answer but for the time being, I must sit and simply wonder. Why do I mention this? I am in Texas and quite frankly, I don't see what all the fuss is about. It's flat, it's absurdly hot, and everything here is either dirt or concrete and it just radiates all day long. Dallas is this gigantic mess of capilatlism, sterile, hot, and seriously overcrowded. This friend of mine is always talking about wanting to move to Dallas, but I tell you, if you're reading this, think again!!! It sucks!!! Austin is a lot like Nashville which is actually kind of nice, and Amarillo completely sucks as well. I'm sorry if this sounds completely cranky on my behalf but I seriously don't like Texas. Okay, I'm through venting.

The tour has been great, however, as the band is really connecting both on stage and off and the crowds have been the best we've seen since we started. The highlight has been Austin as we played at a place called Stubbs; simply great BBQ in the restaurant and the show just felt terrific start to finish. We had a cello player sit in with us and the whole vibe was fresh and exciting. This is the only, I repeat, ONLY redeeming quality I've found in Texas. We drive to Arizona tomorrow and then head north and eventually east. Fun times, indeed.

I guess that's about it, I just wanted to leave a bit of an update. I have been working through some issues with a bit more meat and will put up some new posts in our coming days off. I hope everyone is well; feel free to drop a line. Cheers!

the far country

2006-06-05T12:14:00.000-07:00

Jack Kerouac once concluded a description of the western landscape that read, “This day is beautiful forever.” I’d like to think he was talking about a day kind of like today. The sky is a remarkably soft blue void of the first sign of cloud or haze, the breeze is steady and as I sit here enjoying a free latte at Portland Brew, I am amazed at this day. This is my last full day home in Nashville for the next month or so and it only seems appropriate to soak it in for a while.

The last week has been exhausting but terrific. We finished the last leg of the tour to mostly small and subdued crowds but had the fortune of playing to a great audience in Columbus before driving home middle of the week; it was probably the most fun I’ve had playing a show in years. I came home to spend about a day with the people I miss most and then drove to Padukah, Kentucky, to see my friend Jonathan get married. The three days there were honestly joyful. He’s a friend who understands me like few people do and it was so exciting to watch him commit his life to someone he loves so much. I got to do the majority of the music for the wedding, including playing the bridal processional on electric guitar which has to be some kind of first; it was Jonathan’s idea and worked great. While I was there, some friends straightened my hair which proved quite humorous, the pictures of which I’ll post on myspace.

I also got to spend some time with my folks who drove in on Saturday to come see a show. We had dinner, talked for a while, and as always, they showed their incredible support for me and my pursuit of music. They rarely miss a show and I am grateful for the way they’ve chosen to cheer me on rather than cursing my choice to not become a doctor. I know you read this dad; thank you.

Presently I’m enjoying some great music I've aquired. I’ve been given several records recently for different reasons and picked up a couple on my own and all are proving to be great records. My friend Zach posts an album for recommendation on his blog every Monday so I’ll take today and do the same. Last night I picked up My Morning Jacket’s  “Z”, Copeland’s “In Motion”, and Pedro the Lion’s “Control”. I’ve also been given copies of the new Paul Simon and The Flaming Lips records, Mark Knopfer and Emmylou Harris’ duo record, and a group called Tapes n’ Tapes. I would say any of these are worth picking up, but the real surprise of the bunch has been the new Paul Simon which is a great record. I’m always a bit weary when an older artist puts out new records as they seem to mostly disappoint these days but this album is terrific.

Jonathan also gave me a CD for playing in his wedding that I think deserves some special attention. It’s Andrew Peterson’s “The Far Country,” and album written entirely around the concept of death and the afterlife. It’s lyrically profound, almost a book in and of itself, and is based upon a quote by someone who’s name is presently escaping me (might be Meister Erkhart): “God is at home and we are in the far country.” This is the kind of album you just kind of live with for a while and it’s breaking my heart. Please get a copy and spend some time with it.

The idea of that is presently sitting with me comes from the title track. Peterson talks about creation, all the terrible things about it, the wars, the corruption, the things that seem so obviously God-less and then mentions nature, the mountains, the kinds of things that can seem so God-filled. He concludes by saying that all of it, from the “sin-fraught cities” to the “groaning wilderness” are all longing for what is lost, for God and for Christ, who is in heaven. I am humbled by the truth that even the best parts of this world, things that even draw me close to God and lead me to worship such as a beautiful day like today, are still things that hurt and cry out because this place is so temporary, because all of it is fallen. I am convicted to hurt and cry out as well, to long for God’s kingdom and a day in which we are forever in His presence. I find these lyrics profound and I encourage you to visit Peterson’s website and read through the lyrics.

We leave tomorrow evening for the final leg of the tour and the longest one to date, being twice as long as any other trip so far. I am finding that I love the road but I love being home as well. Despite everywhere I get to go, I will always miss my friends and those I am close to. Home is just that, home, but it’s the people that make it that way. Cheers!

it's raining in baltimore...

2006-05-26T22:59:00.000-07:00

It's 2AM and I'm sitting in the lobby of the Radisson Hotel in Baltimore. I'm not a guest but the internet as free and they don't know I'm not paying customer. The bar is close by and I'm listening a small group of middle-aged men discussing stocks and speculative politics. I'm grateful my worth isn't tied up in speculation.

I've spent the last two hours hanging around the bus with our driver Phil, watching him try and fix our generator which conveniently quit woring. The generator gives us lights, air, and all the rest that makes it possible for us to sleep when the engine's off and once the generator went, the batteries drained too. We asked the hotel we're using for showers (not the Radisson) if they had an official car or something that could give us a jump. The valet eagerly runs to lend a hand and returns with one of the guest's SUV's. This is why I don't valet. Phil then proceeds to tell us stories from the road. Take for instance the time he dumped the bus's water tank (septic tank) in front of a night club that had a line dozens deep standing in front. Or the ways he tries to circumvent the various laws that make his job irritating.

The tour has been good so far. The bus is a vast improvement over the last one which we so affectionately called Nanner Puddin. This one's a little more state of the art and the suspension works which means I don't hit my head on the top of my bunk every time the bus hits a pothole. The curtain on my bunk actually closes which is a nice improvement as well. The rest of the routine is pretty standard; sleep late (but not that late really), eat, do nothing, play, do nothing, sleep. The free time is nice but there sure is a lot of it.

The shows have been better than the last run as well with the crowds consistantly growing. The first show was a glorified coffee shop in the DC area and then the last two nights have been clubs in New York and Philadelphia respectively.

New York was a great afternoon, being my first trip into the city in ten years. We road the subway with this crazy lady who yelled at the whole car and then individually yelled at each person. Next, an immigrant woman harassed me in the East Village. She was the text-book elderly immigrant stereotype, shawl around the shoulders, scarf over the head, poor posture, no teeth. Sort of a Mother Theresa who never went to catholic school. She informs me that the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz is Turkish, which he probably isn't, and tells me that I'm Irish, which I'm not. She then asks me if I speak German, in German, and slaps me on the shoulder, laughs, and walks away! What in the world! She, no exaggeration, spoke three different languages in our exchange; it was hilarious. After eating a hotdog wrapped in bacon, we sprinted uptown, played a good show which was attended by a former Styx bassist who is also our bassist's father, and went on our way. New York is an interesting place in that it is completely impossible to grasp the scope of the city when you are inside of it. It reminded me of being in the Grand Canyon, the way that from the bottom you would never know just how large it really is. The buildings tower to the effect of disorientation, yet nothing seems quite as big as you think it is - ie, the Empire State Building.

Today has been a day off in Baltimore and as much as I hate to say it, Baltimore kind of sucks. It's dirty, the people are rude (Tiffany and baby got cornered by a man today and were rescued by an observant cop), and there's nothing much to do despite the fact we're in the middle of downtown. I did go to the aquarium today which was certainly fun. I'm kind of a sucker of attractions of the scientific kind, especially aquariums, and didn't hesitate to blow a full day's per-diem on a ticket. The only problem is that is spent another day's worth and more on dinner and erronious purchases like ice-cream. But a city is no place to spend a free day in if they tell you not to go anywhere alone and Baltimore is such a place.

Well, it's 2:30 now and my eyelids are slowly gaining dominion over my brain. I was hoping to get up in the morning for some Dunkin' Doughnuts while I'm up north and should get some rest if that's the case; I don't know why they all had to disappear down south. I hope everyone is well. Drop me a line if you get bored. Cheers!

here we go...

2006-05-23T16:10:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting backstage at the illustrious Jammin' Java in Vienna, Virginia, getting ready to play to the first show of this next part of the tour. At the present, we trying to talk Tiffany's assistant into letting us play pranks on her fiance. And like a good fiance, she is reluctant, though you can't blame a guy for getting paranoid when his fiance is on the road with so many good looking guys like ourselves. I'm kidding. But anyway...

It's good to be traveling again. Will I do this for the rest of my life? No, but it's a great at this point in it all. I did have a great time being home though as the separation has a way of making you miss people. I have terrific friends and am grateful to be making new friends at this stage in it all.

I guess that's it for the moment, I just wanted to check in. Cheers!

say "ahhh"

2006-05-20T09:44:00.000-07:00

They say that every man has a limit, that no matter how tough, or in my case, stubborn, you must eventually give in. Two weeks down the road, I finally decided to do something about my cough and made my way to the Edmundson Pike Walk-in clinic this morning. Apparently doctors read a book in med-school that must be titled something like, "101 Uses for Beige". This doctor was a kind Asian man who only made me wait as long as my paper-work required. He tested me for strep and all the pleasantries, got a few "Oh, that's not terrible" comments when checking various cavities in my head, and all and all, a good report. There's been a virus going around and he said I needed an antibiotic to clear up the after affects.

I then went to the nearest Walgreens to fill my prescription and was informed that my insurance company had no record of me as a customer. I find this interesting, considering the quite active card I carry in my wallet and the bill that my parents so generously help me with every month. And speaking of my parents, I'm glad they are enjoying their continued vacation and are ignoring my phone calls. I can understand wanted to get away but avoiding your sick children!!!! Just kidding, Dad (and Mom, but I don't think you read this).

I'm dog sitting at the moment as well. Her name is Scout, named for her mother's love of Harper Lee, and she is something of a joy. She has mad frisbee skills.

Last night I watched the much debated and hyped "The Da Vinci Code". First of all, I liked the book because it was entertaining and very well researched, though I don't think Dan Brown is going to be winning the Penn-Faulkner any time soon. It was also hard to read at times, given some of the claims the book makes. The movie brought back that discomfort but failed to share the same excitement and was, quite frankly, boring.

Both the movie and the book did, however, make me realize how rarely my faith is called into question. Even though I know the story is based in fiction and unfounded research, I also realize that there are a lot of things in Christianity that require faith. Take the resurrection, for instance. I guess it's just the nature of Christianity in America. The Bible says we should meet persecution with joy but that is not something I've been able to experience. I envy the perseverance of believers in places like China or the Sudan. I would like to say that I could be faithful until my death but in all of my comfort, I have no idea.

I'm going to run now. Tonight we break in the grill and I best get some things done before we do. A good weekend to all. Cheers!

and the boredom sets in...

2006-05-16T07:34:00.000-07:00

I'm mercilessly bored. It's not that I don't enjoy being home, but I feel like I've kind of just hit a wall of things I can do right now. I've been up since 6 this morning, which was certainly a surprise considering I didn't go to bed until 1:30 and had nothing to get up for today. Why did I get up a six, might you ask? I've been coughing enough to dispatch the health department (I've heard rumors of bubonic plague) and quite frankly, it's just not worth trying to sleep anymore. It's a cough to no means and I think that's the most irritating part. If I was at least removing mucus or pieces of my lung, I would feel like I was accomplishing something. I'd even settle for some blood, though I fear the medical ramifications of that one.

Presently, I am waiting on Ralph, our landlady's handyman of choice, to pay us a visit. Ralph is an odd bird, still sporting the Dale Earndhart mustache and shorts that just don't quite make it to the lower third of his thighs. Ralph is coming to fix the shower in the master bath which means two things. The water to the house will be turned off all day, which is fine because I've showered and topped off the Brita. Second, he has to rip a wall out of my bathroom to work on the other one. Fantastic. All my housemates are working this morning so I have to stay here all day until he finishes. Add to the boredom.

I finished the book I've been working, 1984. I loved it and am a bit disappointed it's over. This presents the new problem. I compulsively collect books and rarely read any of them; 1984 took a year between purchase and commencement. Now I must convince myself that I have a book I want to read rather than buying a new one. I must then choose one between the quarry's worth of books stacked around my room. Fiction? Non? Spiritual thought? So many choices and so much time.

And good Lord, I have never seen so many squirrels in my life! They're all over my yard and I think they're in heat! Can you tell that I'm bored yet?

OK, now I feel ungrateful. Just the other day I blogged about how nice it was to be home and to relax, blah, blah, blah. I meant that, but I guess I'm presently confused as to why I'm having such a hard time sitting still. Part of it could be that I have a lot I want to do this week, plans if you will, and I haven't been able to schedule anything because the Plumb folk have been saying we're going to have some rehearsals. My playing responsibilities are about to increase a good bit (more on this to come) but no schedule has been given, meaning I've just been sort of waiting around in a limbo. It's really not that bad, I don't want anyone to think I'm complaining.

On another note, why do I do this? The blog, that is. Is it so I can avoid telling people in person what's going on in my life? I hope not. Is it for the simple validation of knowing people are keeping up with me (who are you people anyway?)? Maybe. Is it so I wont feel like such a faker when I tell people I like to write? Probably. But even still, it's not like I'm really putting any kind of creative expression into this. No matter the reason, it's fun and I like it. So please keep reading or at least let me think you are. I appreciate you. Cheers!

get behind the mule...

2006-05-13T01:15:00.000-07:00

Ugh, this congestion is driving me crazy. I woke up beginning of this week to a cold and while I certainly feel better, I've got this nagging cough that is simply irritating. It's one of those deals where no matter how much you cough, that itch that's causing it never really goes way. While I've always pretty resistant to the seasonal bugs, my lungs are pushovers. I picked up this respiratory infection a few years ago while sleeping in a Haitian church and while the infection lasted about 3 months, I still feel it from time to time, making the average cold stick around a little longer than it should. I'm not complaining; I guess I'm just bored and thought you might want to know. Fun times...anyway...

The first leg of the tour came to a close on Tuesday. All is well, so far, as I'm adjusting well to the travel and am happy to be playing. I'm in town for a bit before we go out again and I'm finding the lack of responsibility refreshing. Take today, for instance. I spent the first several hours of it writing, did some laundry, practiced a bit and then had dinner with friends. I don't write much these days and I find it refreshing; it's not much but an idea I'm enjoying working through. I started this blog with the hopes of posting some of the shorter pieces I write but I've yet to do it so maybe I'll put this one up before long. Other than that, my only responsibility is a much needed haircut next week, leaving me with a lot of time to kill. My parents are currently enjoying an ocean-front penthouse in Destin that belongs to some of their friends; perhaps I can carve out a few days and join them.

I bought a Tom Waits record tonight, "Mule Variations." It's good stuff, maybe check it out. Enjoy the weekend. Cheers!

sunfest part 2

2006-05-07T15:14:00.000-07:00

I love Fiona Apple. There, I said it. I got to see her last night and she is every bit as good and psychotic in person as I had hoped she would be. And Ashley Simpson really does suck, in case their was any doubt on anyone's behalf. Sunfest wrapped up nicely with an exponentially larger crowd than we've seen at this point. Tonight is St. Petersberg, tomorrow Orlando and then home for what I found out is actually two weeks instead of one, which is pleasant news. I'm surprisingly tired at this point so I best get some excercise during the next few weeks. See you all soon.

sunfest part 1

2006-05-05T21:32:00.000-07:00

Life is full of nice surprises. I'm wandering around our venue for the weekend, Sunfest, a water-front festival in West Palm Beach, Florida, just trying to pass time and realize some of my favorite artists are playing the event. Justin (keys) and Beau (bass) and I went down to the river tonight to see Bruce Hornsby play. What an amazing musician! He was a joy to watch but I only stuck around for a few songs because Duncan Sheik was playing down the way. If you've read this blog for a few months, I posted about Duncan's new record "White Limosene". He's a master songwriter with a really unique style but the real treat was that his guitarist was a guy named Gerry Leonard. For those of you who don't know, Gerry Leonard is pretty much my favorite guitarist and has probably had the biggest influence on my electric guitar playing over any other player. It was inspiring to watch him play and I am grateful to have seen him. Check his playing out on Duncan's last four records, David Bowie's "Heathen" and "Reality", and Jonatha Brooke's "Live" and "Ten Cent Wings". He's amazing.

Florida is an interesting place. No one who lives here is actually from here and everyone who lives here kind of looks the same. There's this sort of south Florida image that follows everyone around, this appearance of wealth and prosperity, and it's really unappealing. My experience with people thus far has been unappealing as well. We were getting some dinner tonight and a group of guys were ragging on Justin, who wears eye-liner. I realize he's a guy and he's wearing make-up but it really ticks me off to see people getting criticized in public for whatever reason. Next, a mere child asked me if I had any pot. We asked how old he was and he said 15, which was certainly a lie. The kid then gets testy when I inform him I'm fresh out. My friends and I weren't like that in our teens, were we?

We go to see a movie. The theater is slammed and the staff is scrambling as their computer system is down. The line moves slowly and when I finally get around the corner, I see one employee standing at the window arguing with the guy at the box office window about Mission Impossible, completely disregarding the 80 or so people in line to buy tickets. We buy our tickets and get into the movie 15 minutes late and find a group of teens talking louder than anyone I have ever heard in a theater, no exaggeration. The movie sucks anyway and the company is just grating on us when this guy asks, "would you please stop talking and maybe whispering?" One of the kids responds, and I quote (and apoligize for doing so but I want you to get the effect), "You can whisper my nuts in your mouth." Can you believe that?!? When the movie's over and the lights go up, it turns out the group of kids contains the kid who asked me for weed. It was honestly the worst experience at the movies I've ever had.

As we stood outside the theater, Tiffany and I got into this conversation about a near by bar. We talked about the loneliness of the bar scene, how the entire late night drinking game was centered around sex and false first impressions. We talked about how so many of the teens and 20 something girls near by wore too much make-up, about how so many people wont accept who they are. I like girls who don't wear make-up and don't feel like they have to validate themselves to others simply through their appearance. I'm not saying that wearing make-up or fixing your hair and all that is bad, but I think there's a lesson to be learned. Tiffany, who only wears it when she performs, put it well. She basically said, in short, that you shouldn't have to do anything to validate yourself to anyone, which is by no means an original thought, but truth never the less. To her, it's not spending all kinds of time on her appearance. Again, I'm not saying that girls shouldn't dress up. In fact, it's flattering when you take someone out and they've dressed up because it tells me they care. But at the same time, I would be devasted if she couldn't feel comfortable not dressing up. It's not an issue of cosmetics but rather accepting who you are. I've struggled with this plenty in my life and I hate to see it elsewhere and there is PLENTY of it here in South Florida.

Sorry, that was a rather long and unexpected tangent. I hope everyone has a good weekend. Cheers!

on the road...

2006-05-04T12:54:00.000-07:00

The first show went off with only one hitch, or a glitch really. For anyone familiar with Plumb’s music, you know that there’s a good degree of programming involved. During the tune “Sleep”, the computer somehow skipped, putting the band and the sequence in different places. Aside from that, the show was a success. Not bad for the first go.

We’re driving in this giant yellow bus we have affectionately dubbed, “Nanner Puddin”. It used to belong to Alan Jackson and has been appointed with leopard upholstery and enough paintings of lions on the walls to do Graceland’s Jungle Room proud. Why Alan, why? Sleeping on the bus is interesting too as the bunk is something of a cocoon. The ceiling is too low to even sit up and I have to climb over two others to get to it; that’s what I get for being the new guy.

I truly feel humbled right now to be earning a living doing something I love so much. The company is good, the money is good, and the music is good, which is everything you can ask for from a gig. I also love to travel and while I’ve only been gone a few days, I love this whole tour thing. You sleep on the bus, wake up in the next city, have the morning and afternoon to do whatever you want and then you play a show at night. The only awkward thing is the limited access to showers. Our bus driver gets a hotel in every city so he can sleep during the day but we can’t afford hotel rooms otherwise. This means that once the bus is packed after the show, we head down to the driver’s room and all nine of us take turns using the shower. I’ve always enjoyed using wet towels.

There’s something very exciting about stepping into a band, having had nothing but the CD’s as a reference and everything sounding exactly like the CD. I can't tell you how many times I've played shows or recitals with people and it just didn't sound like it was supposed to. Tiffany’s voice is the same live as on the record and the guys are all great musicians. It’s also humbling and a lot of fun to be playing along side someone you’ve listened to and known for many years.

I am grateful that I have been provided the opportunities in my life. I play the guitar because I feel God’s pleasure when I do. I’ve finally come into a place where I no longer stand on a stage marked with insecurity and fear. Last night I felt no anxiety or insecurities, which is a growing trend in my life. I’ve always, ever since I was ten, been nervous to play in front of anyone, in my home, at school, at church even. I used to practice for hours and hours because I wanted to reconcile myself to my peers through the guitar and earn their approval. Come college, I just got burned out and only played as much as I absolutely had to but now I have been shown freedom from such a selfish pursuit and I am loving my instrument more than I have in years. Beyond that, though, I am experiencing God in this freedom more than ever and I rejoice over the fact that I am no longer just longing for the day in which I find my way into God’s purpose but am, rather, living in it. I feel joy.
I’m in Gainesville today and spend the rest of the week in south Florida. I’ll be home in Nashville by around 10 AM on Tuesday and in town for a week before the second leg of the tour. Today is my friend Lele’s birthday so everyone drop her a line and wish her well. Cheers!

time's a revelator...

2006-04-27T15:29:00.000-07:00

I've spent the last 8 or so months in my house with a sort of mystery looming over my head. My roomates and I have sat in our curtainless living room wondering why in the heck the house across the street was visited by a plethora of strange cars all throughout the day and evening. We've had our speculations; brothel, crack house to the middle class, off-track betting ring. You know, shady stuff. We've schemed as to how to find out such as walking across the street, knocking on the door and saying, "Uh, I'm here for the...uh...", hold out some cash, and hope they fill in the blanks. But today, it was all made clear.

Keith, Scott, and I sat by the window and watched as two people walked into the front yard. My first thought was, "Is that a nun?!?" but I quickly realized she was wearing an apron of the beautician variety. A quick search of the yellow pages revealed a salon at the address across the street. What do you know...I kind of hoped it was a crack house to the middle class.

Honkeytonk Badonkadonk.

2006-04-25T22:36:00.000-07:00

Wildhorse week is in full swing here in Nashville. Randy and the band, of which I am one, played our first show tonight to a surprisingly active and receptive audience. We were encouraged by the response and by the way we played together on our first time out. I was encouraged by the fact that I passed myself off as a country guitarist for three hours and that we got done earlier than expected. To me, playing country is sort of like swimming in Jello. You can do it, it's fun because you're swimming in Jello, but you're not really that good at it and certainly can't do it for very long. Ok, so maybe that's not the best example. What I'm saying is I'm a fake when it comes to country and I've never had to fake it for as long as I had to tonight and it went better than I thought it could.

The air is pleasantly cool tonight, lying under the windows in my living room. Our air conditioning blows, but not in the way that it should, and I've slept on my bare mattress for the last two weeks to aleviate the heat. Our landlady has ordered us a new air compressor to hopefully fix the problem. I feel a slight sense of irony over this as it was the air compressor that exploded and burned my last residence down. Fun times. Seriously, it was kind of fun. I can explain sometime if anyone really wants to know why.

You know when you get pre-occupied with something and it makes you worry about insignificant things? This isn't something I normally deal with but right now I feel a bit elsewhere. I don't really like carrying things around like this but I don't really feel like I have any other options. Sorry for being vague. I initially thought about the title of my blog, that sometimes I'm better off not saying anything, which has often been a long-standing policy of mine and not one I care for. But I guess that's out of context. The quote it comes from reads, "I will walk without noise, I will open the door in darkness, and I will." It's from Jonathan Safran Foer's "Everything is Illuminated" and implies a sort of silent obligation which was the whole appeal in the first place. I like the idea of working life and its impending uncertainty with total willingness. It implies a degree of humilty I could pray to one day possess.

Feel free to come see us at the Wildhorse this week. Thursday from 8 til close and Friday from 7 till close. Cheers!

Mr. Whit Goes to Washington...

2006-04-22T08:43:00.000-07:00

I finally got connected to the internet after a few days web isolation. It's not that I can't live without the internet but for once, I actually needed to check my email something important, which as of right now, hasn't come. Oh well.

So, I'm in Richmond, helping a friend lead worship at the training center for the International Mission Board. Getting here was a bit of an ordeal as my traveling companion never really confirmed the flight information and when we arrived at the airport at what was believed to be the appropriate time, we discovered our flight had already left. Fun times. They moved us onto a flight through Dallas, which makes perfect sense, and we eventually landed in Norfolk, about five hours late. It was all pretty funny, really.

I went to Washington yesterday and spent some much needed time of solitude wandering the mall. I stopped in at the new World War II memorial, paying homage to people such as my grandfather who understood courage and honor in a way my nihilistic and narcissistic generation could never understand. I felt inspired standing in memorial of people who fought for something important, for life and its integrity. My grandfather was in the Air Force, was shot down twice and received the Purple Heart for his service; we miss him.

After a couple of hours seeing all things related to the mall on Washington, I went to the National Geographic Museum and saw a fascinating exhibit on the Gospel of Judas. There was also this great photographic journal about the restoration of the North Western Archipelago of Hawaii; basically the part of the islands tourists don't go. The photographers took portraits of the wildlife, from crustaceans and fish to birds and the such, in the same way portraits of people are taken. Basically, they were isolated behind some kind of solid background and photographed. It was one of those moments in which I was completely taken in by creation; truly remarkable.

On another note, I confirmed some summer plans yesterday. I am official going on the road with Plumb for close to thirty shows in May and June, starting May 3 and ending June 24th. I'm excited and a bit anxious as I've never been out on the road for that long before. It'll be fun but I've got a lot to do between now and then. That being said, if you read this and want to hang out next week before I leave, let me know. Cheers!

Happy Easter!

2006-04-16T13:49:00.000-07:00

Today is Easter and I am lying on the couch in my house with the windows open because our air conditioning is busted. This is the first time I’ve ever spent the holiday away from my family but another family was kind enough to take me in and serve me lunch. I’m not really feeling separation anxiety or anything, especially considering I was home last weekend. If anything, it marks a new stage of independence in my life which is certainly exciting.

I’ve spent much of the day thinking about Easter, the theology behind it all, and its significance to my faith as a Christian. I guess that’s what you do on Easter every year, but this year, I couldn’t help but feel a sort of regret over the way I often treat today. Every year, I devote all kinds of thought, time, and money to Christmas, to birthdays, to myself in general and I think; Is Easter not worthy of the fullest of my attention? Without Easter, my faith would be nothing! I would be better off living as a nihilist passed out in somebody’s pool. I would certainly be hopeless.

But today is the day of my hope! Not that this day in particular is special from any other but the reminder is certainly beneficial and extremely valid. It’s nice to have a day in which I am constantly reminded of the hope I have been given. Death is certain and life would certainly be pointless if I did not have faith in something better, faith in purpose, in love and in hope. I received victory over this hopeless death in Christ and his triumph over death. This is not a celebration fit for candies and greeting cards; this is a celebration of abundant life!

I will always be amazed at the incomprehensible means by which this life has occurred. That a man could be abandoned by the vast majority of his friends and supporters, be offered up to the government as a criminal on par with a murderer and a terrorist. That he could be beat, mocked, and hung naked for the whole world to see. But it says in the Bible that God will not be mocked and even death would be limit for a man that would pay the debt for all of humankind’s inequities. “Sin has lost its power, death has lost its sting,” we sang today in church. How encouraging this is, that Christ would endure what he did, not for us, but for His glory, and in His love remove the debt that would keep us from God. I’ll repeat that. Christ died for because it was the method through which God would show His glory, not directly to save us. Our salvation is the result of Christ becoming a sacrifice and paying the debt for our sin. But God’s glory is the ultimate goal here, even in our salvation. We were never the point but God has chosen us to be redeemed, to be His hands and feet so that God may be glorified. Again, it’s all about God and His glory. A guy I know named David Platt once said, “If God is infinitely good and fully love, then the most loving thing he could do is give us himself.” Well said.

Why is it people of faith regard Christmas in the way that they do, as opposed to Easter, a day that should mean so much more to us? Is it because the whole world accepts Christmas, making the celebration easier? What would people do if we began treating Easter the same, or better yet, out did it? It is my sincere hope that I fully realize the gravity of Christ’s sacrifice and that Easter no longer live in the shadow of a day like Christmas, as great as that day is. Maybe then I will get it all the more. May I leave you with this lyric from a chorus my church closed our service with today. Blessings to all on a truly joyous and remarkable occasion!

“I praise the one who paid my debt and raised this life up from the dead.” Amen.

it's a nice day for a....

2006-04-11T08:53:00.000-07:00

Well, it wasn't exactly a white wedding, but a wedding none-the-less and it was lovely. The blessed union of Eloise Stiles and Robert Blalock went through without a hitch; well, maybe just one. It was the shortest wedding I've ever been to, about five minutes; just the vows and the rings. It was short and sweet, as they say, and it was about freaking time.

Eloise, my grandmother, and Robert first met when they were in high school. For reasons I'm still not sure of, my grandmother ran off with my grandfather shortly there after. Many years later, after my father was married, my grandparents devorced, and Eloise and Robert found themselves together again and have been for what I guess is about the last 25 years. Hence the, "about freaking time" comment.

The drive home from Florida was something of an act of God. If anyone remembers the storms this past Friday night, I had the blessed fortune of driving from Pensacola to Chattanooga through the middle of it all. Dad told me to drive home through Atlanta to get ahead of the storm, which I did, and missed all kinds of tornados by a matter of minutes.

On the plus side, I love driving and while driving 7 hours through the night in the middle of a huge storm is not necessarily someone's idea of a good time, it is mine. I love to drive; it makes me think and leaves me refreshed, despite not getting home until 4:30 in the morning.

Home was also nice. I haven't been in forever and it was good to get time with my family, get outside for hike, and the such. Chattanooga is a beautiful place, for those who have never been, and I like to be reminded of that from time to time. We went for a hike to this place called Edward's Point (see picture) which has a remarkable view of the river and the Chattanooga valley. Dad and I rented Good Night and Good Luck, easily one of the best movies I've seen in a long time, and stopped to see the only Frank Lloyd Wright house in the state of Tennessee, which is apparently only two minutes drive from my parents. It's a pretty cool house, so I believe I'll post a picture of that as well. Notice the cantilevered carport, which is kind of visible to the right. Also, the trim is not wood but rather poured concrete. I don't know why the sudden interest in Wright but I think this is fascinating.

Finally, my friend Scott gave me some sweet Sharpie tattoos last night. In case these pictures aren't clear enough, one's a bald eagle riding a harley and wailing on a guitar. Notice the flag, the lightning bolts, and the flames. Sweet. The other is an homage of sorts to Dale Earndhart. Part of me is sad this will come off in the shower and the rest of me is grateful I don't have to live with this. Cheers!

the rubber and the road

2006-04-06T14:52:00.000-07:00

I had to get new tires today. Why is it that every time you get something done to your car they find some kind of impending catastrophe you need repaired? This time it’s suspension; does that mean car will eventually collapse onto the highway only to skid into some ditch and my demise? I certainly hope not. My hope is, rather, that new tires will provide me with a bit of stability and safety until I can get rid of my car, which is hopefully soon.

I sat in my living room this morning with another hope, that my father would call and upon hearing I was getting new tires today, would offer to buy them for me. And being the remarkable father he is, he did call and he did offer. I, of course, clung to my pride with white knuckles and declined, but simply the fact that he offered brings me comfort knowing my father is still very much my father.

I do the same to my mom. Whenever we talk, I fully expect her to ask various questions that considerately pry into my life. I rarely share details and her poking into my social life, as well as my friends, reminds that she is still my mother, still interested, and still loves me, no matter how closed she might perceive me to be.

I find it all to be funny but endearing.

The reasoning for new tires is that I have to drive to Pensacola this evening for a gig. Tomorrow, the guys and I will play twice and then I have to drive through the night to Chattanooga where my folks live. My grandmother, Eloise Stiles, is marrying her long-time boyfriend, Robert, on Saturday morning. I know him far better than I knew my actual grandfather, despite the fact he lived until the end of my high school years; I guess this has been a long time coming. It’s also my first time home since Christmas and I’m excited about it.

I guess that’s about it for now. Everyone have a good weekend. Get outside, go see a movie. Try Slither, it’s hilarious. Cheers!

changes come

2006-03-30T09:50:00.000-08:00

This is a live record from Over the Rhine's "Ohio" tour. If you don't know who Over the Rhine is, they're a husband and wife duo that write some beautiful, spiritually slanted, folk rock. Karen is a siren and the rest of the band is terrific, including Paul Moak who is an evil genious of a guitar player. It's only available on their website but it's cheap and well worth it.

the church that doesn't exist...

2006-03-27T15:27:00.000-08:00

I thought this was an interesting article from Relevant regarding the church, what we often expect it to be, and what it should be with regards to our involvement. Happy Monday.

http://www.relevantmagazine.com/god_article.php?id=7093

iowa shmiowa

2006-03-26T19:43:00.000-08:00

Iowa is a state I have been unable to attach purpose to, but I will wager a guess and say this past weekend there has been more interesting than most I’ve spent anywhere else. I’ll start at the beginning. This may take a while, but stick with it, it’s worth it.

I left town on Friday with a band called Clemency with the intention of playing at a benefit for St. Jude’s Children’s Research Hospital at Coe College in downtown Cedar Rapids, Iowa. We have all the time in the world considering we aren’t scheduled to play until 1 AM on Sunday morning. We head north into Illinois and the completely asinine interstate system that runs through-out the state. Despite the fact that there are thirteen, yes thirteen, different varicose arteries of the Eisenhower interstate system on this slice of middle America, one must drive four hours northeast to the east edge of the state in order to then cross west to Iowa. Foolishness, I say.

Regardless, we get about 40 miles from the Iowa border before we stop to spend a night enjoying the marvelous shower heads at the Holiday Inn Express. We sleep late, eat breakfast, cross over the mighty Missisip into Iowa and Iowa City where we squander our afternoon at the local Barnes and Nobles before going on to Cedar Rapids, which is only about 20 minutes away.

Cedar Rapids is the “city of five seasons,” a bit of trivia that no one in the city could actually explain to us. It is also the home of Quaker Oats and the entire town smells like oatmeal, depending on what day of the week it is. It is also darn near impossible to get a hotel room there as we got the last, and I mean last, room in the city at the Economy Inn and Suites, which was neither economical or anything slightly resembling a suite unless you count the miniature coffee pot in the bathroom. Or maybe the kitchenette in the lobby.

Our contact for the event calls us to fill us in on the details as we are lounging in the room watching NCAA basketball, an activity I did with my back to the TV. She tells us that she’s a bit disorganized because she caught her boyfriend in bed with another girl this morning. She had ignored our earlier calls because she had driven half-way to Milwaukee in an act of self-preservation before deciding to return. We’re told to go to the school’s gymnasium and when we arrive, they ask us if we have our own PA. This is never a good sign. The girl has obviously been crying, but is very sweet and gracious. In fact, the fractal sampling of the student body we encountered was just like this as Coe College proved a friendly place.

The short of the next six or so hours is that the school is hosting a fund-raising lock-in for St. Jude’s, an activity that only drew 20 or so people, including the girl who slept with our contact’s boyfriend. We played Jenga, I learned how to swing dance with a girl who bore a shocking resemblance to my friend Emily DeLoach (I have pictures), and we even shared the stage with a band called, “Oh Sh** and the Ruptured Rubbers.” After the show, they announced their name had changed to the Trojan Whores. Seriously, you can’t make this stuff up.

After we all feasted on their home-made stew of jam-based rock and blues, we took the stage with our own brew of pop rock, no doubt shocking the small yet eager crowd with the fact that we were a Christian band. This was no matter, and in fact wound up being a great tie-in to the whole St. Jude’s thing. Jude was the patron saint of lost causes, and Christ made me aware of His own capability in such things long ago. We played, we made some friends, and a good time was had by all.
OK, now for the fun stuff. It was about 2:30 in the morning and we were all hungary so we made our way to the Perkin’s Restaurant next to our hotel. In the parking lot, a man who was obviously drunk did not hesitate to inform me of how he could have easily gone to bed with a woman who had just left the lot. As I was at a loss for words, I kept walking and he followed. He then offered us $20 to steal a police car next to the building so that he wouldn’t be caught drunk in public. I said I’d do it for $21 but then kindly declined. The lobby was bustling with a bizarre mix of white trash and homosexuals, all of whom were openly talking about sex. If that wasn’t weird enough, a six-and-a-half foot tall black woman walks into the lobby, sporting an Adam’s apple. Now, I might be wrong, but these two things don’t really go well together. In other words, “she” was an obvious Ru Paul admirer. A patron turns to us and says, “I’m too drunk for this stuff,” and from the looks of it, he was far from the only one.

We get to our table and quickly make friends with the people at the booth next to us. One of them is from Clarksville, TN, and asks us who we are, etc. They ask for a CD so Paul, the bass player, goes to the car and comes back with a CD for everyone on our side of the restaurant. This apparently made the waitress’s night, who kept saying, “Wow, this is so great. I just can’t believe it. You guys are great. I just can’t believe it. Wow, this is so great.” And so on...every time she came to the table. She was a little spacey but sweet never the less.

As the aforementioned table next to us left, a guy who was obviously drunk and a bit autistic came to the table with his CD. He asked if we had a permanent marker, presumably for an autograph. We said no, but the server gave him a pen. He then proceeds to autograph Paul’s jacket with the words, “Beef Cake.” He says it’s his nickname. We ask why and he says, “Because my friend won $100.” Right. He then moves on to Justin, the drummer, and signs his jacket. He then sits down at the booth behind me and realizes my jacket is too dark to write on so he leans over and writes “Beef Cake” on my THIGH!!! He proceeds to do the same to Jason, who poses the same dilemma, and then walks off yelling, “My friend won $100!”

Then, as we are leaving, the manager of the restaurant asks us for a CD to give to a server who is off-duty. “He’s all in to that Christian stuff,” she says, “He’s 19 and he’s still a virgin.” Paul then replies, “You don’t say,” to which she says, “Yeah, he’s 19 and he’s never even had sex!” Thanks for the clarification.

That’s about I really feel like sharing about the weekend. I will say, it’s funny how people who aren’t Christians react to those who are. Take the 19-year-old virgin, for instance. It was sort of like we were from a different country. I find it humbling to see how God uses us in any situation, providing us the opportunity to minister to not only the 20 or so people at the school but also to the people in the restaurant. Who knows when they’ll listen to the CD and what they’ll get from it. And in spite of that, our natural reaction is to be discouraged at a small turnout.

I’ve said too much so I best be moving on. Cheers!

the times they are a changin

2006-03-24T09:32:00.000-08:00

They say that life comes in seasons, eras maybe, and when those times pass, that they may never be reclaimed. They say that life comes at you fast. Whoever they are, I hate them. There, I said it.

Two nights ago, I made a somewhat, and by somewhat I mean frequent, trip to the local Waffle House, an edifice I've possibly spent more time in than even the house where I currently reside, and I uncovered some startling news. That's what happens when you go to a Baptist college and you and your friends lack the motivation to seek out more typical college activites or dare I say, date. And through our nearly nightly visits we made the aquaintence of a sweet waitress named Sharon who would eventually know us so well as to place our drinks on the table when our car hit the parking lot. Over the years, 5 to be exact, we've had our ups and downs, but Sharon has always been there.

Two nights ago, I arrived to find a somewhat somber Sharon who quickly informs me it is her last night on the job after 15 years of working the third shift. She tells me her husband is sick and "not doing so well" and that she needs to go and be with him in Illinois. Now, as rediciulous as it may or may not seem, I was devasted. She was on the verge of crying the whole time we were there; it's hard to see someone you've come to love, leaving a place she loves being, in no more than a literal whimper.

I hate to see her go and realize I probably wont see her again so farewell, sweet Sharon. When I go on medication for my high cholesterol, I will know you were an intrical part of it (you think I'm kidding, ask my parents, or my physician).

relevant cinema

2006-03-20T10:05:00.000-08:00

This week's trip to the movies was for The Wachowski Brother's V for Vendetta, a savvy political comentary about the power of government over the indifference and fear of it's people. The principal character, V, is an homage to Guy Fawkes, a 17th century Englishman who attempted to blow up Parliament to start a people's revolt against the government. People should not fear their government but the government, rather, should fear its people. That is, if the people are willing to stand up. It takes a leader, someone to pave the way, and here we find V. It's a little 1984, a little Farenheit 451, and a pretty good movie so check it out.

In the news this morning, I read where the US is not accepting the results of this weekend's presidential election in Belarus (former Soviet Union) and is calling for an investigation into potential fraud and a new vote. The reasoning is that the incumbent leader, Alexander Lukashenko, provided a context of fear that lead the people to feal they no choice but to vote for his re-election. Governments have used fear and threats for centuries to create the perception of public support and the reality of control over the general populace. Vendetta uses this idea, borrowing 1984's premise of creating the news to show the people how much they need their government as protection against the world at large, empowering the totalitarian regime.

It's really interesting to me how much we accept as fact and how much trust we place in the powers that be, as if some upper-class Ivy leaguers could ever really understand the needs of the the remaining 270 million or so people they make decisions for. At what point does the power we assign through democracy translate into power being taken away from the people?

I'm not paranoid or turning into a conspiracy theorist by any means, I just enjoy a thought provoking film every now and then, especially when history and current events provide credibility. Happy Monday!

2006-03-18T18:24:00.000-08:00

Here's a posting from my favorite internet humor site, Timothy McSweeney's Interet Tendency. They do these lists and they're quite funny and rediculous. Here's an example.

Secret Canadian
Superweapons in
Development.

BY WYNN QUON

- - - -

Titanium Mountie

Canadarm face slapper

Ballistic beavernauts

120 mm maple-syrup mortar

Peacekeeping robot that attacks you by surprise

Bioengineered crazy lumberjack choppers

Is that all the guster you can muster?

2006-03-15T21:08:00.000-08:00

Upon reading over my last blog, I kind of had to laugh at myself. If anyone's seen Donnie Darko, then you know about motivational speaker turned child pornographer, Jim Cunningham, who quoted the line above. Throughout the movie Cunningham talks about how all of our actions are based in either fear or love and the point is that there are obviously a lot of other emotions floating around in there. He's obviously the brunt of a lot of jokes during the movie and after reading the disjointed rambling below, I can't help but laugh and think it sounds like I had taken a Jim Cunningham seminar a bit too seriously. It's a great movie, watch it if you haven't. I still mean it anyway.

thoughts on a sunday

2006-03-12T15:48:00.000-08:00

I watched this movie twice this weekend. Why? Because it’s amazing. Hitchcock has this way of just sucking you into a story, despite the way they may seem dated by many of todays standards or better yet, expectations, of film. The contrast of light, the brilliant colors (even in his black and white movies), the always dynamic leading man and the signature Hitchcock blonde; couple these things with a creative and timeless story and the films still are stunning. Hitchcock was known to labor over his work, building elaborate sets and even breaking for days at a time to ponder potential holes in the plot to make sure the stories are intelligent and complete. Often times I’ve heard friends pass these movies off as dated, that the suspense doesn’t hold up, but to me it’s like saying Faulkner or Hemmingway are dated compared to contemporary literature. You have to know where the art is coming from, especially if you are going to watch it for arts’ sake.

I’ve heard it said many times that what set the films apart was Hitchcock’s use of our most basic emotion, fear. I got to thinking about that claim and I affirm it. If love is our most noble and precious emotion, our most fulfilling and even heart-aching, and if fear is the absence of love (I’ve heard this as well and I agree), then fear is certainly our most basic emotion. When all of the love and compassion in our lives is taken away, what is left? Fear. No wonder it has such an effect on every aspect of our lives. Hitchcock’s films are a case study of ordinary people responding to fear and it’s fascinating.

As I am thinking about this, I am sitting on my back porch reading 1984 and listening to the music the hispanic family down the street is playing rather loudly. I think about diversity, about how grateful I am to live in a part of town that embraces diversity, how I love it. I think about how many people don’t love it and refuse to embrace it, see it as a threat even, and as a result fear the presence of minorities in their neighborhoods. I even grew up in a neighborhood that once forbid Jews and African-Americans to live there. This adds paranoia to our lives, causing us to lock our car doors at intersections or avoid all but the main roads when out for a jog. This drives property values down and causes schools to deteriorate. This tells people their communities aren’t worth having pride in, that their ambitions aren’t as valid as the rest of us. This adds to the difference, and that saddens me.

I look back down at the book and read a striking line. “Orthodoxy is unconsciousness.” What a striking line! While the book is talking about government, I can’t help but think about religion. I thought about how orthodoxy can be so beautiful and rooted in meaning (think prayer postures and the use of early church art to help the illiterate), but I also think about how a lot of it is rooted in a church tradition that feared its membership growing outside the teachings of the church. Their fear of individual spirituality spurred a myriad of church tradition that attempted to squelch the expression of many great thinkers and artists (think Galileo). It is as if somewhere down the line much orthodoxy is rooted in fear, even with the best intentions and methods, because it says, “I do not trust you to do this on your own.” Our modern churches are certainly guilty of this fear as well, turning our physical churches into shelters from the world around us, shutting out the dark to protect us from the things that threaten to destroy our neat Christian existence. We teach self-centered theology, that the church is more of a building running on time-tested schedules than a body of believers shining in the darkness. Spirituality becomes strict religion, born of our fear.

At this, I put my book my book down and started to ponder spirituality and nature, the way that I have been so blessed to experience God through creation. A tree in my backyard is blooming small pink blossoms, budding out of tight yellow-green clusters. I’m ashamed to say I don’t know what kind of tree it is but I am struck by its beauty. I grabbed my vintage camera (thanks Dad) and took some pictures of the flowers. I see my Lord here and I am so thankful for a God that says, “I trust you enough to see me in creation, in the small details of your life, working it out without having it all written out for you.” There is no fear here, only love. How amazing!!!

So why then do I experience so much fear in my life? Work with me as I’m tracing through a lot of thoughts here but fear is an undeniable topic this weekend. If you read down through this blog or have talked with me at length, you’ll know I have my fair share of insecurities. These exist mostly in social and musical contexts and still often mystify me. When I think about dating, I get so clammy and nervous and rarely act upon any impulse to get to know anyone. I fear going to parties or even gatherings with people from my church. When I play somewhere, I worry about whether or not my playing fits, or if my gear sounds good despite the fact I know I am a capable, competent guitarist with some terrific sounding equipment. Even this morning at church, someone asked to hear my new amplifier (which is sweet, by the way) and I was worried about whether or not he would like how it sounded. These things might not seem like much but that’s precisely the point; why do I experience fear in areas I have no reason to? It is such a part of our lives, and such an un-Godly thing.
I need to be reminded of fear and its manifestations that I may learn to live in love. I am grateful of Christ’s love, its unconditional and uncompromising ways, the way it is completely void of fear and I pray to live in love with God and with people around me.

blessings!

Lanois

2006-03-10T09:39:00.001-08:00

If the only thing you know about Daniel Lanois is that he produced some U2 records, please go out and get some of his albums. Shine, or Acadie, or whatever else. It's inspiring.

humble pie

2006-03-10T08:55:00.000-08:00

I suppose I'll give an update from the last post on my Oscar predictions, the closest thing to an NCAA bracket you'll ever see me do. The official tally was 12 out of 24, an F by most standards, unless you go to Brown or some place like that. But I did win a prize at my friend's Oscar party (merely by default). I was pleased and very surprised to see George Clooney win as well as Rachel Weiss. And the 3-6 Mafia?!? Are you serious? As Jon Stewart said, "It just got a little easier out there for a pimp." And of course, the upset for the evening, Crash, was a huge surprise and kind of disappointing. I confess I've maybe been a little unfair towards this movie but it still should never have won best picture. There's this tragic thing in the Academy where the indies or even the major studio films that don't pull the box-office never seem to win, such as Traffic, Fargo, and In the Bedroom. Of this year's five films, the other four where definately superior to Crash, which is disappointing. I'm not trying to insult anyone for liking Crash, I liked it as well, it was just the weakest nomination this year. So please go see the others if you haven't, they're terrific.

I left town with a friend this week, not really going home with him, but to a sort of home away from home. It's sort of strange watching someone you're very close to hanging out with other people he's really close to, being a sort of fly on the wall in his life. Situations like that seem to bring my shyness to the front and while I had fun, I think about how I rarely make accurate first impressions. I'm not unstable or anything but I do think it takes a while to get to know me. I would even say there are people I've known for years who still don't have an accurate idea of who I am. Does that make sense? I'm not sure if it's having walls up or what the deal is. Or maybe it's just that I'm overly shy and protective on the outset, which I guess is like having walls up. I just answered that question.

Oscars!

2006-03-04T09:06:00.000-08:00

The entire year is filled with various sports championship, redicuous award shows and opporunities for Hollywood and the celebrity population at large to praise each other and make the rest of us hate our already plentiful lives. The way I see it, there are only two exceptions I maintain throught out the year: Formula 1 and the Oscars. Who cares about the former, plus the latter's time has come as well as the time for my completely shocking and awe-inspiring predictions. OK, so maybe not awe-inspiring. But never the less, forget about the NCAA's or all of Mariah Carey's Grammy's, it's Oscar weekend!

This is how it will work. I name each category, who I think will win, and the name of the film or crew recipiant(if applicable). Then who I want to win, and maybe a description of why, will be in parenthesis next to it. No parenthetical reference indicates the winner and my hopeful are one in the same. I will also comment on the prediction if I feel the need to. Please note: I don't really take this that seriously but when you don't really care about sports, and the Grammy's suck, there's not a lot of popular culture for me to be excitied about. So endulge me.

Actor in a Leading Role
Philip Seymore Hoffman - Capote
He simply has to...see the film if you haven't...

Actor in a Supporting Role
Jake Gyllenhaal - Brokeback Mountain (George Clooney - Syriana: he was my favorite supporting performance this year but it'll never happen)
Jake's good in this movie and the hype is in his favor

Actress in a Leading Role
Reese Witherspoon - Walk the Line (I want her to win, but I must give Felicity Huffman honorable mention)
It'd be nice to see a local girl, masterfully portraying another local girl, win...

Actress in a Supporting Role
Michelle Williams - Brokeback Mountain (Catherine Keener - Capote)
All five women in this category deserve the award.

Animated Feature
Wallace and Gromit in the Curse of the Were-Rabbit - Nick Park and Steve Box
They spent five years on this film and it shows.

Art Direction
King Kong - Grant Major, Dan Hennah, and Simon Bright
Sin City was snubbed for a nomination here.

Cinematography
Good Night and Good Luck - Robert Elswit
Beautiful and tense; simply terrific

Costume Design
Walk the Line - Arianne Phillips (Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Gabriella Pescucci)
The Academy seems to favor the realisitc and accessable (don't hold me to this, or any of it, for that matter)

Directing
Brokeback Mountain - Ang Lee (anything but Crash)
Lee will get it, but Clooney (Goodnight), Miller (Capote), and Spielberg (Munich) all masterfully made original films. From a direction, I repeat - direction, point of view, Crash is such a rip-off of PT Anderson's Magnolia, it should never have been nominated. If you don't believe me, rent both movies and watch them consecutively.

Documentary
March of the Penguins - Luc Jacquet and Yves Darondeau (Murderball - Henry-Alex Rubin and Dana Adam Shapiro)

Documentary Short
God Sleeps in Rwanda - Kimberlee Acquaro and Stacy Sherman
I haven't seen any of these, but Rwanda is a favorite subject so I'm assuming (yes, I know what happens when I assume).

Film Editing
Crash - Hughes Winborne (The Constant Gardner - Claire Simpson)
Everyone seems to love Crash, but Gardner was pieced together so well; plus the editor, Claire Simpson, previously won for Platoon so she's good.

Foreign Language Film
Tsotsi
I haven't seen any of these but the word is out for Tsotsi, or maybe Paradise Now; I like the whole suicide bomber idea.

Make-up
Star Wars:Episode III The Revenge of the Sith - Dave Elsey and Nikki Gooley

Music (Score)
Brokeback Mountain - Gustavo Santaolalla
Original, minimal and spacial without being minimalist.

Music (Song)
"Travelin' Thru" from Transamerica - Dolly Parton
It's Dolly, come on...

Best Picture
Brokeback Mountain - Diana Ossana and James Schamus, Producers (Capote)
Oh, the hype...Capote really was the best so please support it.

Short Film (Animated)
How should I know?

Short Film (Live Action)
Where do you see these things anyway?

Sound Editing
King Kong - Mike Hopkins and Ethan Van der Ryn
Awesome...

Sound Mixing
Walk the Line - Paul Massey, D.M. Hemphill and Peter F. Kurland
All of the applause and such...tough work

Visual Effects
King Kong - Joe Letteri, Brian Van’t Hul, Christian Rivers and Richard Taylor
About the best looking film I have ever seen.

Writing (Adapted Screenplay)
Brokeback Mountain (Capote)
Larry McMurtrey...he's great, but "In Cold Blood" created a genre and the adapted text was terrific.

Writing (Original Screenplay)
Crash - Paul Haggis & Bobby Moresco (Syriana)
Again, Crash seems to be a favorite, but I really appreciated the complexity and vision behind Syriana, though the execution hurt it a bit.

OK, that's it. I'm not an expert, I just like movies and at the present moment, this is more interesting than anything else I have to do today. And besides, even the "experts" have no idea. Sunday at 8/7 central!

public service announcement

2006-03-01T19:44:00.000-08:00

First, I must begin with a confession; I really like tea. To be more specific, I like loose leaf tea with a dollop of milk and a teaspoon of sugar. Yesterday, with this in mind, I decided to go find a tea pot with my friend Jordan. We wandered into Davis Cookware and Cutlery, the quaint and cluttered little shop in Hillsboro Village, to find a shelf full of pots. The clerk, along with his brother and father, was quick to help, leading me to a pot in my price range and then talking me through a selection of teas. As time progressed, our conversation switched to music and the man's brother quickly chimed in. We talked about Monterey Pop, CSNY, Zeppelin, King Crimson, and a whole world of live music that the two brothers had the pleasure of enjoying. Jordan and I shared in their joy at recounting their experiences and left the store an hour later, charmed from my experience. The bottom line is the men in this store are delightful, helpful, and their tea is terrific. If you drink tea, or need kitchen ware, please pay them a visit and help to keep them open.

Oddly enough, I saw a ghost from my recent past in the Village as we drove away. His name is Johnny Bonanno and if you have kept up with my life at all in the last three months, you know exactly who he is. If not, check out the lone blog on my myspace page. The short of it, otherwise, is that he's the guy who scammed some bandmates and myself into thinking we were going on tour with Shania Twain. And there he was, walking in the Village. I was stunned and simply couldn't even muster the energy to speak to him. I had deleted all the numbers of people relevant to the incident as a way of letting it go so I had no way of contacting the other people involved in the scam. All I could do, or really felt like doing, was just stare. I honestly thought he was dead; long story.

Tomorrow, I head to a banquet for abstinence education. My sister is the CEO of this non-profitt group in Chattanooga and some friends and I are doing dinner music. Nothing like playing romantic jazz standards at an abstinence dinner. Cheers.

great quote

2006-02-28T10:22:00.000-08:00

I pulled this Bono quote off my friend Zach's blog. Pretty amazing stuff.

"6,500 Africans are still dying every day of a preventable, treatable disease, for lack of drugs we can buy at any drugstore. This is not about charity, this is about Justice and Equality. Because there's no way we can look at what's happening in Africa and, if we're honest, conclude that deep down, we really accept that Africans are equal to us. Anywhere else in the world, we wouldn't accept it. Look at what happened in South East Asia with the Tsunami. 150, 000 lives lost to that misnomer of all misnomers, "mother nature". In Africa, 150,000 lives are lost every month. A tsunami every month. And it's a completely avoidable catastrophe."

d is for discipeship

2006-02-27T10:21:00.000-08:00

I spent the weekend in Montgomery, Alabama, playing for a youth retreat. It was one of those affairs where the students spend the night in various homes around the city and in the interest of planning meals, the church split the band up and put us in houses with the students. My room was hot pink; jealous? I thought so.

As I sat in on the group sessions and at a city wide event the second evening, I found my capactiy to participate waning. Not that I was being lazy and didn't want to be there, but I slowly became discouraged by what I was witnessing. It's not like they were performing cult rituals or anything, but the overwhelming impressions of the weekend is that we don't care about our students. The leader of our house session simply sat and read out of the guide book like a father reading to his 3 year old a new book he's never read, minus the loving attention. Shallow answers were encouraged by hasty discussion, scripture references were skipped to save time, and phrases like, "We aren't going to take the time on this one, but just trust me when I say..." abounded. And for five sessions, the students were given weak theology, encouraged to mindlessly except everything being thrown at them; not encouraged to ask questions, to dig deeper, or to develop a faith of their own. This was the very thing that nearly killed my faith as a teenager.

The city-wide event was equally discouraging. The music was awkward and difficult for the students to be involved in (I'm not just being an anal musician). The teacher was more comic relief than content, often inappropriate and giving a message that was both contradictory and mostly irrelevant. The service was emotionally manipulative with two separate invitations, one of which had half (no exageration) of the 1000 students at the altar. Don't get me wrong, I want to see student's lives changed, but we aren't doing them a favor by teaching them content that insults their place in life and manipulating them into a lifestyle Christ wants us to experience with joy and love. There was no joy or love in this place and I couldn't help but feel like there was nothing there that would make me want to be a Christian.

These things sadden me because it shows the church's willingness to give our students anything but our best. It's kind of like we say, "Oh, they're just teenagers (or children)," and carelessly execute student ministry. The youth deserve outreach and discipleship with the best of our ability, our most intention, just as we the believers should approach everything with excellence. Even in my own church, the youth and the youth workers are treated like they aren't a part of the church, which just blows my mind. I say this not of my own opinion but of the opinions of several workers and students I've been around, worked with, and lived with. I just hope these kids don't feel like they don't matter. I will say that the youth minister of this church in Montgomery shared the same thoughts about the weekend and is trying his best, but it's a big task and he needs a lot of help and the help must be leaving him frustrated.

On another note, the speaker cabinet for my new amp shipped today! This is a pleasant surprise, considering the builder's normal turnaround for an amp is about six months and this took less than a week and the amp itself about a week. Plus it's pleasantly warm outside and I believe a jog is in order. Cheers!

my potentially confusing and almost certainly hypocritical rant of the week

2006-02-20T13:52:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting at Portland Brew, as I do every Monday, musing at a couple of things. I'm reading George Orwell's "1984", something I somehow got through school having never read, and I can't help but wonder about life in the US versus somewhere else. I know that I have nothing to say that would be new on the subject or the book, plus I've only just read the first chapter, so I'll save my commentary. I can't deny the bubble that has been placed around us, the way we add to that bubble with our social and political ignorance, and the lengths we go to the keep the bubble in tact.

In my immediate bubble, two men are sitting at a table to my left. One of them is passionately sharing about how China's next move in the not too distant future will be to annihilate us. He said they share geography with Russia and both countries will combine their powers to destroy America, removing our hands from the proverbial cookie jars. While he didn't say cookie jars, I kind of laugh as I picture China as one of those containers that looks like a lion and roars, "Get your hand out of my cookie jar!" when you open it. Or maybe not. He talked about how 50% of all TSA workers in airports are middle eastern and how a transportation takeover and 9/11 repeat are entirely inevitable. The man's tone showed apparent loathing for our country and also for minorities and their presence here. His friend utters not a single word and is visibly uncomfortable. I felt both threatened and sad.

To my right, three women, who are obviously members of some musical group, are meeting with a designer, discussing album art. They are all dressed nearly identically, wearing what look like Army caps, expensive outerwear and what are almost certainly $300 jeans. One of them wears a bracelet that says "Live to love." I can't help but wonder if the greater act of love would be to spend money on somebody else. Yes I am a hypocrite, I know, but this is something I'm dealing with. I certainly don't know who these women are and I would assume they are just one of many artists in Nashville, living with the appearance of success while struggling to get by. I wonder if people can tell I'm a musician struggling to get by when they look at me. I honestly hope they can't.

It is as if these three women are living the exact opposite of the American experience than the man on my left. I might be passing an unfair judgment but I see so many people in this city living expensive lifestyles under the shelter of American life. To be relevant and therefore useful to the popular culture, we must spend all kinds of money. And what kills me is that the mediators of this consumer message (MTV, Time, etc.) tell us to be aware of the world, to get involved and make a difference (just watch the self-centered advertising on cable stations), but they are the very merchants of this consumer ideal, almost as if they are justifying our excessive consumption while simultaneously selling cool to us, making us feel like we are aware and that we care how many people die of AIDS every year. Both the man and the women are living in the shelter of our country but one seems to resent it, even fear it, and the others seems to embrace it completely.

I am grateful to live here but I am also aware of how fantastically wealthy being an American makes me, even though by the standards of our government I live under the poverty line. I have a lot of other factors that contribute to my quality of life, such as generous parents or the miracle of my doubtless living. I certainly live comfortably, just paycheck to paycheck, and I have to tell myself there is nothing wrong with this! I want to be responsible and save so that I can provide for a family eventually, but I also don't want to live like I am not aware of how much I already have. After all, Jesus was homeless, and I openly proclaim my allegiance. I sometimes wonder if I am doing him a dis-service. It's all so much to digest but my role in faith and the global landscape is something I will spend my entire life working out. It's tough stuff but it's exciting to think about because I believe it matters.

a correction...

2006-02-18T08:25:00.000-08:00

This is a correction with regards to my Valentine's Day blog post. My mother has discovered my blog and set the record straight. I must humbly acknowledge that I'm an ungrateful and overly sarcastic brat and that my mom is quite simply the best mother in the world. If you feel the need to dispute, don't, because you are wrong. I love you mom!

for crying out loud!

2006-02-17T09:12:00.000-08:00

I just read a Reuters feed saying that a Pakistani cleric has offered a $1 Million bounty on the person who drew the Muhammed cartoons in the Danish newspaper. I don't know what else to say right now but wow. I realize religions have been criticized and satirized for years, persecuted to all kinds of degrees, but I never thought I would see leaders in a faith offering a fortune for someone's head. As a Christian, I realize we are by no means innocent of blood shed and viscious over-reaction, but I never expected to hear that in this modern world. For deeper thoughts, check out Jon Krakauer's "Under the Banner of Heaven". It's a look into Mormon fundamentalists, which is quite similar to Islamic fundamentalism in ways, and also has some thought provoking discussion on faith at extremes.

On another note, I recently picked up Duncan Shiek's new record, "White Limosene". If you've never listen to him, he's a terrific songwriter who writes unorthidox pop music that's easily digested. Plus, his band is terrific, including one of my favorite guitarists, Gerry Leonard. Another cool thing about the record is that he included a DVD-ROM of the record with it that allows you to remix the record on your own computer. Pretty cool stuff. Alrighty then...happy friday!

caving in...

2006-02-15T23:42:00.000-08:00

I went to Atlanta today to play for a Valentine's banquet. It was at a church in which an old roomate and dear friend of mine is working as the interim youth minister. The event was fun but a bit strange as well. I played solo guitar for about 45 minutes while people ate dinner and no one said as much as a word to me when it was all over. I'm not desperate for affirmation by any means, but I guess I was expecting some. I feel like I played well, considering my un-practiced state, but it was a bit discouraging to feel like no one listened.

We stopped at my parent's in Chattanooga on our way home, which is always nice. My parents are terrific people and it's always a joy to share them with others as my traveling companions had never been there before.

The drive back was my shift behind the wheel, the perverbial graveyard. As we passed from the vacant and rolling farmland of middle Tennessee, shadowy from a brilliant moon, into the luminous freeway that expands into the outskirts of the city, a feeling came over me I'm quite fond of. This particular stretch of road was newly paved and the overhead lights reflected on the tarmac, giving me a sense of sterility I've often associated with sprawling 21st century cities. That might not make any sense so I'll word it again. At night, the outskirts of a city, with the warehouses and intermittent darkness, can seem so vacant and lonely, but not an unwelcome loneliness. My new Death Cab cd was playing on my iPod and as I experienced the songs for the first time, I felt the sky above me open into the darkness as if all the lights above me, moon, stars, and lamps, disappeared and a great warming expanse opened before me. In the emptiness, it seemed my heart swelled and my chest caved in around it; it felt devine, it felt like love. I thanked God for a moment of serenity and beauty in the industrial landscape, and for music.

Eventually, my companions stirred and the moment faded, but I thought about those unexpected moments where you connect with God and your heart seems to just pull right out of your chest. It's a restless feeling, welcoming and illuminating, reminding me of how alive I really am. These moments happen at night while driving more than any other time and I relish them always. I truly hope you relate on some level. Blessings.

VDAY

2006-02-14T14:08:00.000-08:00

Valentines’s Day, V-Day, Singles Appreciation Day (SAD), whatever people call it. I say it’s just another day. I can’t help but think there are a lot of days in the year in which it would be appropriate to shower the person you love with flowers and candy, get a nice meal, light some candles, etc. I don’t see what’s so special about this day. The way I see it, Valentine’s Day is good for two things: boosting the sales of certain specialty products and making single people feel like crap.

It’s kind of cruel, in my opinion. I’m sure that somewhere out there my mother is thinking about how unfortunate it is that I’m celebrating my 23rd consecutive, dateless, Valentine’s Day. Plus the name V-Day kind of implies something a little more destructive and sinister. But worry not, my mother, I am not cowering in singledom but rather enjoying an nice afternoon and evening with friends. I willfully choose to treat today like any other day, not feeling worthless or lonely. I say, don’t wait for a greeting card or jewelry company to tell you to appreciate the one you love; I think your relationships will be all the better for it. I realize I’m not the best person to give relationship advice, but it’s just a thought.

This past weekend was a tough one. I went to Ohio Saturday morning with my friends Sara Beth and Emmett to do some music at a church. The drive up was beautiful with snow covering much of the farmland that lies between Nashville and Southern Ohio. We sat up at the church and shortly before we play, Emmett’s wife, Wendy, called and said that she was in a lot of pain. She was currently five months pregnant and had been dealing with some intestinal pain for about the last week. We played and when Emmett talked to Wendy again, she had been taken to the hospital and informed that she needed to have an emergency C-section. As Emmett dealt with the news, we quickly realized we needed to get Emmett home.

Within minutes, Emmett and I had taken Sara Beth’s car and headed for home. The car ride was tense for a bit until Emmett received the news that Wendy and the baby had both come through the surgery and were doing fine. Conversation started up and the tension eased a bit.

Within a few hours, the snow we had admired on the way up quickly turned into a curse, refreezing and sticking to the roads. It wasn’t long before we had to get off the road and check into a relatively shady motel operated by a middle-easter man. Behind the counter sat a black and white photo of a woman with a bullet hole in her head; I didn’t have a lot of confidence in the place.

The next morning, we drove the rest of the way home with the pleasure of a new-fallen and beautiful snow. I left Emmett, went home for a shower and returned to Ohio to finish the weekend at the church and give Sara Beth a ride home. When we got out of bed the next morning, we had the news waiting that Emmett and Wendy had lost their baby.

I’m broken hearted for Emmett and his wife. I cannot imagine a loss like this as I have no way to relate, which is a hard thing to realize. You want to help people you care about but I am finding I have nothing to say to them. I guess presence is the important thing, the thing that people remember the most. I pray for Emmett and Wendy and if you read this, I hope you will too.

So everyone, have a good day, regardless what meaning we are told to apply to it. Life continues, with all its joys and pains, and that is the important thing to me. So on this Valentine’s Day, I’ll enjoy this dvd of 24 I’m currently watching, and I’ll have dinner with a friend, and nothing is going to make me feel any different, no matter what my TV says.

Here goes...

2006-02-10T22:57:00.000-08:00

I recently came to the conclusion that most people don't know me as well as they think they do, or so I think sometimes. I say this not to insult anyone but to recognize something within me that keeps others at a certain distance, protecting myself with sort of self-directed maternal instinct. Maybe that's wierd, I don't know. With this in mind, I've decided it is time to speak out, if only in a whisper, and share a litte more of the details, actions, and rants of my daily life. I think my mind is a little too active for my own good so maybe this is the healthy thing to do. Whatever the reason, thanks for reading.

I hope this blog is a place where I can share thoughts on a lot of different issues (spirituality, politics, music, etc), make you, the reader, aware of various bits of information or news I might have, and hopefully make myself a little more vulnerable than the norm. That being said, feel free to check in as frequently as you like; I'll try to update several times a week. And with that being said, I was in Portland two weeks ago at a conference having a moment of "what does it all mean", 20-something frustration. It's late and I don't feel like writing anything new so here are some thoughts I worked through at the conference. Enjoy.

Sometimes I hate being a guy. Not so the much the just being a guy thing but being a single, unemployed, 23 year old guy. Actually, all of these things have their perks but I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m living in a time in which a lot of my friends are getting married or acting like they’re married. They’re taking jobs, moving to Charlotte or some other place where I could never find one. They’re acting like someone significantly older than I feel, or maybe I’m acting younger, or maybe they’re faking it. I don’t know.

It’s just a hard age and time to turn off the whole analytical mind thing. Every single girl is a marriage prospect. Every friend who has a job has connections to get me one. Basically, I’m seeing everything as an opportunity.

But when I really think about, I don’t want any of these things to be opportunities. I like being single. I have terrific friends who I thoroughly enjoy spending time with. I’m a musician, which even though it isn’t really work, is the best job in the world. I play guitar for money. I use that money to buy more guitar things. It’s great.

I can’t remember how many times I’ve heard someone say something about how we always want the things we don’t have. It’s true, yes, but I’m thankful for what I have now and I need to remember that.

So why am I bringing this up? Glad you asked...I’m at a conference, working I might add, and I spent lunch hanging out with some people, including this terrificly charming and beautiful woman who just happens to be from the same city I live in. She’s the kind of woman you want to like you because it would be wonderful boost to your self-esteem and your friends would pat you on the back while secretly cursing your new-found luck. But as I’ve always been painfully aware, I am shy, maybe even awkward, and I don’t always make the best first impressions. The two guys with me, however, are funny, out going, and hitting it off with her. But this doesn’t bother me.

The job I’m here for is a connection from a friend who works for the company I’m with. He knows I’m bored and poor (this is a relative term) and he put in a good word for me. I’m thankful to have been set up with a job, having done nothing to get it. This doesn’t bother me.

I am acutely aware, however, of one thing, tracing through all accounts. Nothing is going to change. Things happen for me, which is nice, but again, nothing is going to change. I’m not taking any steps in my life to make anything change and this bothers me. I want to play guitar for a living but I’m not really playing with any bands I could see myself investing in. What’s to keep me from seeking those people out and putting myself in a position through my relationships to play? I’m likable, easy going, and I can use that to my advantage. And as for the ladies, I could actually suck it up and ask someone out. I’ve done this before and it might work for me one day. Why shouldn’t it? And I’m not going to ask this girl out, if that’s what you’re wondering; that’s what I’m telling myself anyway.

My life is often an issue of vacancy and finding ways to fill it. It is much easier to let other people fill my vacancy: make dinner plans, ask me to a movie, invite themselves over, even. It’s sitting behind my booth at this conference, listening to music and typing just to pass the time. It’s easier than talking to someone.

Invest in my life: apply within. Sounds ridiculous but it’s been my working model for a while now. What harm would there be in investing? It’s a stretch and it makes my palms sweat. Being shy has it’s advantages, don’t get me wrong, but I need to be more effective at pushing my boundaries and without feeling so awkward. Just a thought.