I was forwarded a scientific article by a friend today that reported thousands of penguins have been found dead washed up on shore. The Magellan penguins migrate there annually, but usually only ten or so are found dead. Curious as to what could be causing this widespread penguinicide, several dozens or so of them were taken to a nearby lab and opened up to try and determine the cause of their deaths. In each penguin's stomach, they found the same thing: nothing. The poor flightless birds had starved to death. I will miss each one of them personally as they are my favorite animals on earth and have been such since I my earliest memories.
Here's to you little guys. I hope the scientists figure out what happened to ya and fix all the problems that made you all die.
And now I know. There aren't always more fish in the sea I guess.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Penguins
Published with Blogger-droid v1.4.8
Saturday, July 17, 2010
A Growing Simulation
When most days one of our temporary housemates "Brett" spent eighteen hours or more in his room, I decided to research the topic and try to understand it more, as I was literally astonished at the potency and results of his addiction.
“Two percent of gamers [in the Netherlands] are addicted.” This statement comes from the Dutch Daily News in an article quoting researcher Jeroen Lemmons of the University of Amsterdam. Lemmons worked with 851 students for six months researching online and video gaming addictions. (dutchdailynews.com)
Of the online “Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Games” or MMORPG’s that are available, World of Warcraft (WoW) is by a significant amount the largest network of players in the world with a total number of subscriptions amounting to over 10 million . Keep in mind “subscription” is a highly qualified term, as a “subscriber” is defined by the game creator company Blizzard as “those who have paid a subscription fee, or are using an active prepaid card, as well as those who have purchased the game and are within their free month of access.
Internet game room players who have accessed the game within the last thirty days are also counted as subscribers, but players under free promotional subscriptions, expired or canceled subscriptions and expired prepaid cards are excluded.” (www.joystiq.com)
With it’s current subscriber base, Blizzard and it’s parent companies will be paid just over $2 billion a year from the players who totaled together now amount to more than half of Australia’s population. With 2 million subscribers in a Europe, 2.5 million in North America, and 5.5 million in Asia, the WoW players added together total more than the world’s ten largest armies added together.
A “Trace Summary” of gameplay done from December, 2005 to October, 2007 (4 days) observing 34,521 accounts concluded that 75% of gamers play longer than 2 hours per day, and 25% play longer than 5 hours per day. The peak gameplay hours were from 9pm-1am, and “even after a long vacation [more than half a year], 20% of gamers still come back.” (Kuan-Ta Chen;http://www.iis.sinica.edu.
Online gameplay networking giant Steam (owned by parent company Valve) boasted massive growth in the last year. The site provides access to gamers with over a thousand games available to play each other in multiplayer mode and as of July 16th 2010, 11:58pm a total of 2,074,629 players were online challenging each other (http://store.steampowered.
On 29th July, 2002 Sony announced that it had over 118,000 players logged onto Everquest, another Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game, simultaneously. On January 17th, 2008 the 17a Vara Federal da Seção Judiciária do Estado de Minas Gerai (Federal Court of 17th Judicial Section of the State of Minas Geraes, a Federal court in the second richest state in Brazil) ruled forbidding the game sales in the whole Brazilian territory because “the game leads the players to a loss of virtuousness and takes them into ‘heavy’ psychological conflicts, because of the game quests, that can be bad or good.” (http://jogos.uol.com.br/pc
“Chih-Hung Ko, a neurobiologist at the Kaohsiung Medical University Hospital in Taiwan, and colleagues placed 10 WoW fans in the MRI machine, alongside 10 non-addicts, and followed their brain images while the test subjects were shown pictures of the game...such areas and regions of the brain as the right orbitofrontal cortex, the right nucleus accumbens, the bilateral anterior cingulate and medial frontal cortex, the right dorsolateral prefrontal cortex, and the right caudate nucleus were all noticed to be activated by the pictures. These are the same portions of the cortex that activate when a drug addict fails to take his dose on time and starts withdrawal.” (news.softpedia.com)
"What man actually needs is not a tensionless state but rather
the striving and struggling for a worthwhile goal, a freely chosen task." These words written by Viktor Frankl in his book “Man’s Search For Meaning” is what I believe to be the fundamental reason for the explosive growth in the gaming media. Appealing to man in the core of his being, online gaming deceitfully seems to answer the deep seated desire of a young man to fight for something.
“Nearly one in 10 children and teens who play video games showed signs of what could be considered addiction to games in a January 2007 Harris poll that the research is based upon.
The poll of 1,178 U.S. kids and teens (aged 8 to 18) found that 8.5% of those who played video games exhibited at least six of 11 addiction symptoms such as skipping household chores or homework to play games, poor performance on tests of homework because of playing, and playing games to escape problems...exhibiting six of 11 such symptoms can lead to being diagnosed with an addiction such as pathological gambling. The Iowa State University researchers adopted the gambling addiction criteria for its self-administered questionaire because there is no current medical diagnosis of video game addiction.
Overall, 88% of youngsters surveyed said they played video games at least occasionally.
On average, they played three or four times each week, with boys playing more often. Boys also played longer, more than 14 hours per week, while girls played more than nine hours.” (http://www.drdouglas.org/d
On August 21st, 2009 the world’s largest international news media agency reported
“Video games might be regarded as an obsession for youngsters but in fact the average player is aged 35, often overweight, introverted and may be depressed, according to a U.S. study.
Researchers from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention looked at the behavior of 552 adults aged between 19 to 90 from the Seattle-Tacoma area.
They found 249 of these, or around 45 percent, were video-game players, with men accounting for 56 percent of these.
The researchers found that the men who played video games weighed more and used the Internet more than other men.” (New York: Reuters -http://www.reuters.com/art
“A study done by Park and Chen differentiate between MMOGs (Massively Multiplayer Online Gaming) and MUDs (Multi User Domain games such as first person shooter multiplayer arenas) and distinguish the reason behind addiction to each type of game.
They use two theories of addiction, Use and Gratification Theory and Flow Theory to explain MMOG and MUD addictions. The Use and Gratification Theory explains how people use media to get specific gratifications such as personal identity, personal relationships, and diversion. These gratification needs can stem from low self-esteen, lack of personal relationships, and dissatisfaction with life.
The Flow Theory explains the state in which people are so involved in an activity that nothing else seems to matter, totally unaware of their surroundings but enjoying the task and having fun while doing it. MUD players who are good at communicating through text and were socially awkward would be able to make friends through the network.
Alternatively, MMOG players found satisfaction in reaching goals, achieving high scores, and joining teams with the same skill level as them. Addictions to MMOGs were related to the flow experience, while addictions to MUDs were linked to social interaction and the Use and Gratification Theory.” (www.ocf.berkeley.edu)
Jerald Block, MD wrote in his August 2008 article on Pathological Computer Use (or PCU) “Current data indicates around 3% of the 174 million gamers in the USA (5.2 million) play, on average, 45 hours and buy around 2 new games each week.
In the US, around 2 per cent of the gamers – that is, 4m[illion] people – are heavy users. They average around 40 hours a week, some playing less, some much more. One out of three gamers – 66m[illion] people – play around 20 hours each week. It is people like these who helped generate a record $18b[illion] (£9.1bn) in US sales last year.
In one study from Asia, a typical patient had more than two other diagnoses in addition to compulsive computer use.
Most patients want medication, such as a stimulant, to wake them up during the day. They do not want to change the way they use computers; they just want to sleep less and to work more efficiently.
When technology is used compulsively, it soaks up at least 10 to 12 hours a day; it redefines relationships to include virtual entities and objects, like the computer itself; it encourages processing emotion through the computer.”
(http://www.standpointmag.c
The promise of online gaming is a reward it cannot deliver, as it is controversially structured in a way to require the complete attention of the user as well as often a disportionate amount of time from them.
The travesty of gaming is that it offers nothing of significance or value for the gamer’s investment beyond a simulation of both.
“Two percent of gamers [in the Netherlands] are addicted.” This statement comes from the Dutch Daily News in an article quoting researcher Jeroen Lemmons of the University of Amsterdam. Lemmons worked with 851 students for six months researching online and video gaming addictions. (dutchdailynews.com)
Of the online “Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Games” or MMORPG’s that are available, World of Warcraft (WoW) is by a significant amount the largest network of players in the world with a total number of subscriptions amounting to over 10 million . Keep in mind “subscription” is a highly qualified term, as a “subscriber” is defined by the game creator company Blizzard as “those who have paid a subscription fee, or are using an active prepaid card, as well as those who have purchased the game and are within their free month of access.
Internet game room players who have accessed the game within the last thirty days are also counted as subscribers, but players under free promotional subscriptions, expired or canceled subscriptions and expired prepaid cards are excluded.” (www.joystiq.com)
With it’s current subscriber base, Blizzard and it’s parent companies will be paid just over $2 billion a year from the players who totaled together now amount to more than half of Australia’s population. With 2 million subscribers in a Europe, 2.5 million in North America, and 5.5 million in Asia, the WoW players added together total more than the world’s ten largest armies added together.
A “Trace Summary” of gameplay done from December, 2005 to October, 2007 (4 days) observing 34,521 accounts concluded that 75% of gamers play longer than 2 hours per day, and 25% play longer than 5 hours per day. The peak gameplay hours were from 9pm-1am, and “even after a long vacation [more than half a year], 20% of gamers still come back.” (Kuan-Ta Chen;http://www.iis.sinica.edu.
Online gameplay networking giant Steam (owned by parent company Valve) boasted massive growth in the last year. The site provides access to gamers with over a thousand games available to play each other in multiplayer mode and as of July 16th 2010, 11:58pm a total of 2,074,629 players were online challenging each other (http://store.steampowered.
On 29th July, 2002 Sony announced that it had over 118,000 players logged onto Everquest, another Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game, simultaneously. On January 17th, 2008 the 17a Vara Federal da Seção Judiciária do Estado de Minas Gerai (Federal Court of 17th Judicial Section of the State of Minas Geraes, a Federal court in the second richest state in Brazil) ruled forbidding the game sales in the whole Brazilian territory because “the game leads the players to a loss of virtuousness and takes them into ‘heavy’ psychological conflicts, because of the game quests, that can be bad or good.” (http://jogos.uol.com.br/pc
“Chih-Hung Ko, a neurobiologist at the Kaohsiung Medical University Hospital in Taiwan, and colleagues placed 10 WoW fans in the MRI machine, alongside 10 non-addicts, and followed their brain images while the test subjects were shown pictures of the game...such areas and regions of the brain as the right orbitofrontal cortex, the right nucleus accumbens, the bilateral anterior cingulate and medial frontal cortex, the right dorsolateral prefrontal cortex, and the right caudate nucleus were all noticed to be activated by the pictures. These are the same portions of the cortex that activate when a drug addict fails to take his dose on time and starts withdrawal.” (news.softpedia.com)
"What man actually needs is not a tensionless state but rather
the striving and struggling for a worthwhile goal, a freely chosen task." These words written by Viktor Frankl in his book “Man’s Search For Meaning” is what I believe to be the fundamental reason for the explosive growth in the gaming media. Appealing to man in the core of his being, online gaming deceitfully seems to answer the deep seated desire of a young man to fight for something.
“Nearly one in 10 children and teens who play video games showed signs of what could be considered addiction to games in a January 2007 Harris poll that the research is based upon.
The poll of 1,178 U.S. kids and teens (aged 8 to 18) found that 8.5% of those who played video games exhibited at least six of 11 addiction symptoms such as skipping household chores or homework to play games, poor performance on tests of homework because of playing, and playing games to escape problems...exhibiting six of 11 such symptoms can lead to being diagnosed with an addiction such as pathological gambling. The Iowa State University researchers adopted the gambling addiction criteria for its self-administered questionaire because there is no current medical diagnosis of video game addiction.
Overall, 88% of youngsters surveyed said they played video games at least occasionally.
On average, they played three or four times each week, with boys playing more often. Boys also played longer, more than 14 hours per week, while girls played more than nine hours.” (http://www.drdouglas.org/d
On August 21st, 2009 the world’s largest international news media agency reported
“Video games might be regarded as an obsession for youngsters but in fact the average player is aged 35, often overweight, introverted and may be depressed, according to a U.S. study.
Researchers from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention looked at the behavior of 552 adults aged between 19 to 90 from the Seattle-Tacoma area.
They found 249 of these, or around 45 percent, were video-game players, with men accounting for 56 percent of these.
The researchers found that the men who played video games weighed more and used the Internet more than other men.” (New York: Reuters -http://www.reuters.com/art
“A study done by Park and Chen differentiate between MMOGs (Massively Multiplayer Online Gaming) and MUDs (Multi User Domain games such as first person shooter multiplayer arenas) and distinguish the reason behind addiction to each type of game.
They use two theories of addiction, Use and Gratification Theory and Flow Theory to explain MMOG and MUD addictions. The Use and Gratification Theory explains how people use media to get specific gratifications such as personal identity, personal relationships, and diversion. These gratification needs can stem from low self-esteen, lack of personal relationships, and dissatisfaction with life.
The Flow Theory explains the state in which people are so involved in an activity that nothing else seems to matter, totally unaware of their surroundings but enjoying the task and having fun while doing it. MUD players who are good at communicating through text and were socially awkward would be able to make friends through the network.
Alternatively, MMOG players found satisfaction in reaching goals, achieving high scores, and joining teams with the same skill level as them. Addictions to MMOGs were related to the flow experience, while addictions to MUDs were linked to social interaction and the Use and Gratification Theory.” (www.ocf.berkeley.edu)
Jerald Block, MD wrote in his August 2008 article on Pathological Computer Use (or PCU) “Current data indicates around 3% of the 174 million gamers in the USA (5.2 million) play, on average, 45 hours and buy around 2 new games each week.
In the US, around 2 per cent of the gamers – that is, 4m[illion] people – are heavy users. They average around 40 hours a week, some playing less, some much more. One out of three gamers – 66m[illion] people – play around 20 hours each week. It is people like these who helped generate a record $18b[illion] (£9.1bn) in US sales last year.
In one study from Asia, a typical patient had more than two other diagnoses in addition to compulsive computer use.
Most patients want medication, such as a stimulant, to wake them up during the day. They do not want to change the way they use computers; they just want to sleep less and to work more efficiently.
When technology is used compulsively, it soaks up at least 10 to 12 hours a day; it redefines relationships to include virtual entities and objects, like the computer itself; it encourages processing emotion through the computer.”
(http://www.standpointmag.c
The promise of online gaming is a reward it cannot deliver, as it is controversially structured in a way to require the complete attention of the user as well as often a disportionate amount of time from them.
The travesty of gaming is that it offers nothing of significance or value for the gamer’s investment beyond a simulation of both.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Lists Saturday!
Things that relax me:
1. Jessa
2. The sound of ceiling fans
3. Kids running around all over the place, yelling and playing
4. The ocean
5. Reading
6. Making meals with my sister Grace
7. Talking with patients, explaining what's going on with their body or a procedure we're about to do
8. Long drives at night
9. Studying, if there's no deadline imminent and looming like the shadow of a bear moving on my wall
10. Falling asleep at the movies. Best $7.00 sleeps ever.
11. Someone else's couch. Or my own. Or nobody's, just a couch.
12. Not bees or fevers.
13. Working outside on my vegetable plants/yard work
Things that do NOT relax me:
1. Being denied an equity loan on a house someday. I don't own a home yet, but if I do and this happens, I anticipate it will not be relaxing to me
2. The oxygen masks popping out from overhead on a flight
3. Someone jumping into my car, pointing a gun at my head and saying "drive"
4. Sarah Palin
5. Bees and fevers
6. Being unable to find the vein in a pregnant lady's arm when she's in labor
7. Yelling at people
8. Doing lots of push-ups
9. The ending of the movie "Training Day"
10. Wiring a garage.
11. Taking big tests
12. Small Honda Civics playing around in rush hour
13. Finding out one of the lead singers from a band I love is homosexual
Things that make me comfy:
1. Jessa
2. Couches
3. My bed
4. Not bees or fevers
5. Twisty ties, sometimes
6. A glass of cold milk on a hot day
7. Costco hotdogs
8. A house where it's okay to yell a lot
Things that go "bump" in the night:
1. Not Jessa, cause I don't know about that yet.
2. Couches being dropped on a wood floor
3. Ghosts
4. The wind pushing a vacuum with a towel draped on it against the wall on the porch outside my window
5. More ghosts
6. Jason hitting his head against the freezer door getting chicken from the fridge
7. Bees wearing sunglasses
What I would refuse to wear in public for an hour if you gave me a two hundred dollars:
What I want for Christmas:
1. Jessa
2. I already got my two front teeth
3. I already have the first five seasons of House
4. I already have both my legs
5. And both my arms
6. But a third arm would be nice
7. If it had a hand attached to it
8. I mean, who would be able to use a third arm if there was no hand with it?
9. That'd be really stupid
10. And awkward
What you want for Christmas:
1. Bees and fevers
2. Don't even get me started, I'm going to pretend you don't want a third arm with no hand
3. Other stuff
1. Jessa
2. The sound of ceiling fans
3. Kids running around all over the place, yelling and playing
4. The ocean
5. Reading
6. Making meals with my sister Grace
7. Talking with patients, explaining what's going on with their body or a procedure we're about to do
8. Long drives at night
9. Studying, if there's no deadline imminent and looming like the shadow of a bear moving on my wall
10. Falling asleep at the movies. Best $7.00 sleeps ever.
11. Someone else's couch. Or my own. Or nobody's, just a couch.
12. Not bees or fevers.
13. Working outside on my vegetable plants/yard work
Things that do NOT relax me:
1. Being denied an equity loan on a house someday. I don't own a home yet, but if I do and this happens, I anticipate it will not be relaxing to me
2. The oxygen masks popping out from overhead on a flight
3. Someone jumping into my car, pointing a gun at my head and saying "drive"
4. Sarah Palin
5. Bees and fevers
6. Being unable to find the vein in a pregnant lady's arm when she's in labor
7. Yelling at people
8. Doing lots of push-ups
9. The ending of the movie "Training Day"
10. Wiring a garage.
11. Taking big tests
12. Small Honda Civics playing around in rush hour
13. Finding out one of the lead singers from a band I love is homosexual
Things that make me comfy:
1. Jessa
2. Couches
3. My bed
4. Not bees or fevers
5. Twisty ties, sometimes
6. A glass of cold milk on a hot day
7. Costco hotdogs
8. A house where it's okay to yell a lot
Things that go "bump" in the night:
1. Not Jessa, cause I don't know about that yet.
2. Couches being dropped on a wood floor
3. Ghosts
4. The wind pushing a vacuum with a towel draped on it against the wall on the porch outside my window
5. More ghosts
6. Jason hitting his head against the freezer door getting chicken from the fridge
7. Bees wearing sunglasses
What I would refuse to wear in public for an hour if you gave me a two hundred dollars:
What I want for Christmas:
1. Jessa
2. I already got my two front teeth
3. I already have the first five seasons of House
4. I already have both my legs
5. And both my arms
6. But a third arm would be nice
7. If it had a hand attached to it
8. I mean, who would be able to use a third arm if there was no hand with it?
9. That'd be really stupid
10. And awkward
What you want for Christmas:
1. Bees and fevers
2. Don't even get me started, I'm going to pretend you don't want a third arm with no hand
3. Other stuff
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Pepsi poop.
Even now as I sit on my front porch, the bright warm glory of the season soaking slowly into my chest. This is Denver at it's zenith, I can practically see the solar flares of downtown as it burns brightly and beautifully against the skyline. You see a cement jungle, I see...earth's hair, springing up with youth from the ground, humanity saying "hello, we're here." It's the kind of day right now when your mind salivates with excitement that it is no longer cold and--I saw this going a little better in my mind.
See, I was inside the house making an iced coffee, jonesing to go outside for no apparent reason, the urge to write tickling at the back of my throat causing my fingers to itch. But when I sat outside, rapidly my passion for today faded.
It's pretty hot when you sit right in the sun with your shirt off. Plus the sun gets in your eyes so you can't see the words you're typing on the laptop so you make a lot of mistskes, and wearing sunglasses helps with the sun but makes it so it seems like you're typing with the screen off. There are a lot of little bugs flying around me, ones so teeny and gross looking I would never give them the distinguished title of "mosquito." They're just annoying and itchy. Itchy. My legs started sweating the moment I sat down and propped them up on a lawn chair. It also doesn't help that I inadvertently crossed my legs cutting the blood pressure off to my right foot causing it to swell and fall asleep almost immediately. It's probably already dead.
And so I move into the shade. Who goes outside and sits in the shade all day? Honestly.
"Hey Bobo, where were you for the past four and a half hours?"
"Oh, you know, sitting outside."
"I don't believe you."
"You don't? Why not?"
"You're not a centimeter tanner."
"Oh that, hahahah! I was in the shade."
"You were in the--what? What's the point of going outside and sitting in the shade?"
"Um...the fresh air."
"You could've stayed inside and opened a window on either side of the room. That's fresh air too."
"No it's not, the screens make it dirty."
"So? While you were outside a bird a quarter of a mile away pooped and that same air went into your lungs, only you didn't have a screen to filter the poop air."
"That's disgusting. And besides, birds don't poop."
"Yes they do."
"NO, they DON'T. They poop and pee at the same time."
"See? They do. You just said they did."
"No, I said they poop AND pee at the SAME TIME. That's different."
"No it isn't."
"Yes it is. It's called peep, they don't actually ever just poop."
"So wet poop air went into your lungs, that's worse."
"It built the antibodies in my immune system."
"So you went outside to get healthier? Why didn't you just stay inside, drink a glass of water with Emergen-C powder in it, take a multi-vitamin, and watch the National Geographic channel in HD?"
"Because that channel sucks compared to real life."
"No it doesn't. It's BETTER than real life. HD nature channels are ALWAYS better in real life."
"I was watching that channel the other day and I had to watch a Kangaroo vomit in HD."
"So? You were learning. You never could've learned that sitting outside in the SHADE."
*pause for a sip of iced coffee. Yum. Tastes like...summer.
"Outside, sitting in the shade, I learned about my neighbors, dogs, cats, little ants and bugs, the sun..."
"What did you learn about the neighbors?"
"They bought fresh lettuce and drink Pepsi, not Coke."
"That's dumb. I learned about how skis are made, watched a car race, and learned that jellyfish not only have no bones, but you can see their brain."
"You can see their brain?"
"Yep. I bet they swim around in groups of brain size and laugh at the biggest guy who has the smallest brain."
"You're the biggest guy in this house and you have the smallest brain."
"No I don't."
"Yes you do. You think sitting outside in the shade is a waste."
"It is."
"No it isn't."
"Yes it is. You don't get any vitamin D when you sit in the shade. You only get wet bird poop air in your lungs. What if someday a flock of geese flies over while your sitting there 'shading.' You'll really be screwed then and get some twisted form of avian flu for sure."
"What--what the? How do you even come up with this kind of stuff? What's wrong with you?"
"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? I learned that the swine flu and bird flu are both the same strain of virus only mutated. And it's been around since at least 1917. Know where I learned that? The internet. I read it on THE INTERNET while sitting inside breathing in filtered air."
"Oh? Did you know that not only do we have dandelion weeds all over the front yard, but that our apricots are almost ripe? Sitting inside you never would've learned that and you would've had a disgusting front yard and missed out on weeks of healthy apricot vitamins because the squirrels would've eaten them all. You never would've known they were ready to be picked and eaten."
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh. So we're both right."
"Squirrels have pooped on those apricots you know. When the squirrel flu arrives, you're going to be the first one to get it."
"Whatever. want a Coke?"
"No thanks, I drink Pepsi."
"So do our neighbors."
See, I was inside the house making an iced coffee, jonesing to go outside for no apparent reason, the urge to write tickling at the back of my throat causing my fingers to itch. But when I sat outside, rapidly my passion for today faded.
It's pretty hot when you sit right in the sun with your shirt off. Plus the sun gets in your eyes so you can't see the words you're typing on the laptop so you make a lot of mistskes, and wearing sunglasses helps with the sun but makes it so it seems like you're typing with the screen off. There are a lot of little bugs flying around me, ones so teeny and gross looking I would never give them the distinguished title of "mosquito." They're just annoying and itchy. Itchy. My legs started sweating the moment I sat down and propped them up on a lawn chair. It also doesn't help that I inadvertently crossed my legs cutting the blood pressure off to my right foot causing it to swell and fall asleep almost immediately. It's probably already dead.
And so I move into the shade. Who goes outside and sits in the shade all day? Honestly.
"Hey Bobo, where were you for the past four and a half hours?"
"Oh, you know, sitting outside."
"I don't believe you."
"You don't? Why not?"
"You're not a centimeter tanner."
"Oh that, hahahah! I was in the shade."
"You were in the--what? What's the point of going outside and sitting in the shade?"
"Um...the fresh air."
"You could've stayed inside and opened a window on either side of the room. That's fresh air too."
"No it's not, the screens make it dirty."
"So? While you were outside a bird a quarter of a mile away pooped and that same air went into your lungs, only you didn't have a screen to filter the poop air."
"That's disgusting. And besides, birds don't poop."
"Yes they do."
"NO, they DON'T. They poop and pee at the same time."
"See? They do. You just said they did."
"No, I said they poop AND pee at the SAME TIME. That's different."
"No it isn't."
"Yes it is. It's called peep, they don't actually ever just poop."
"So wet poop air went into your lungs, that's worse."
"It built the antibodies in my immune system."
"So you went outside to get healthier? Why didn't you just stay inside, drink a glass of water with Emergen-C powder in it, take a multi-vitamin, and watch the National Geographic channel in HD?"
"Because that channel sucks compared to real life."
"No it doesn't. It's BETTER than real life. HD nature channels are ALWAYS better in real life."
"I was watching that channel the other day and I had to watch a Kangaroo vomit in HD."
"So? You were learning. You never could've learned that sitting outside in the SHADE."
*pause for a sip of iced coffee. Yum. Tastes like...summer.
"Outside, sitting in the shade, I learned about my neighbors, dogs, cats, little ants and bugs, the sun..."
"What did you learn about the neighbors?"
"They bought fresh lettuce and drink Pepsi, not Coke."
"That's dumb. I learned about how skis are made, watched a car race, and learned that jellyfish not only have no bones, but you can see their brain."
"You can see their brain?"
"Yep. I bet they swim around in groups of brain size and laugh at the biggest guy who has the smallest brain."
"You're the biggest guy in this house and you have the smallest brain."
"No I don't."
"Yes you do. You think sitting outside in the shade is a waste."
"It is."
"No it isn't."
"Yes it is. You don't get any vitamin D when you sit in the shade. You only get wet bird poop air in your lungs. What if someday a flock of geese flies over while your sitting there 'shading.' You'll really be screwed then and get some twisted form of avian flu for sure."
"What--what the? How do you even come up with this kind of stuff? What's wrong with you?"
"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? I learned that the swine flu and bird flu are both the same strain of virus only mutated. And it's been around since at least 1917. Know where I learned that? The internet. I read it on THE INTERNET while sitting inside breathing in filtered air."
"Oh? Did you know that not only do we have dandelion weeds all over the front yard, but that our apricots are almost ripe? Sitting inside you never would've learned that and you would've had a disgusting front yard and missed out on weeks of healthy apricot vitamins because the squirrels would've eaten them all. You never would've known they were ready to be picked and eaten."
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh. So we're both right."
"Squirrels have pooped on those apricots you know. When the squirrel flu arrives, you're going to be the first one to get it."
"Whatever. want a Coke?"
"No thanks, I drink Pepsi."
"So do our neighbors."
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
My City
Few days go by when I don't interact with a homeless person. It's not as if I seek them out or wear a shirt that says "Hi. Talk to me." I have either been asked for money or to use my cell phone more times than I could possibly count. A young, caucasian male dressed in clean clothes listening to his iPod going to and from campus, I more than likely am a proverbial shirt that says "Hi. Talk to me."
The only thing that separates me from them is paychecks. If I was to stop being paid, eventually I would wind up in their position. Many, if not most of them are veterans of wars. The government doesn't like to to pay the VA benefits to their veterans and college students, which I know from experience.
Another difference between them and I is they often have little to no constructive networking. In other words, they have either never had or have somehow developed a network of friends and acquaintances who do not support, encourage them, or help them out of being homeless in any way. Often the darkness of their situation is shrouded by a mental disability, addiction of some kind, anger issue, or the most detrimental of all, they simply do not believe that they could ever become a functioning part of society or their families ever again.
Let me share just a few of their stories, but you'll have to imagine the smell of weeks-old cigarette smoke, blackened, marred teeth and beyond dirty clothing yourself.
---
Juni was born in Albuquerque, New Mexico in 1963, a year after my parents. The moment he found out I had done a year of active duty Air Force, his eyes lit up and he told me about how his Dad was in the Air Force and retired as a Chief Master Sergeant after 22 years of working on planes, C-17's and C-5's. Juni then thanked me for serving, saying he appreciated me giving up parts of my life "for my country" and said he admired my courage, finishing by telling me he couldn't ever join the military, they would've torn him apart. His dad used to come home and make him stand at parade rest as he gave his homework assignments to him. My throat caught as he stood up from the stool and did an imitation of it for me. It was a perfect parade rest stance, every detail dead-on to the point that Juni's eyes looked straight forward, unmoving.
I'm sure whatever he went through as a child was more rigorous than what I did in basic training.
He smiled and asked me about my family, and for an hour we swapped stories over several pool games. I came from a family of six kids, he had two sisters and was up in Denver visiting his Mother's grave and had spent several weeks at a relative's home in Aurora. It came time to leave, I had school the next day, so we walked downstairs and outside into the cool air. Juni walked beside me, and as we passed a couple of businessmen who'd stepped outside for a smoke, Juni asked politely if he could have a smoke. With nothing more than pure disdain written across his clean-cut features, one of the men took a long draw and said "you can have the rest of this when I'm done with it."
On a daily basis Juni is spoken to, treated, and glanced at this way, probably dozens of times. Society has developed several scenarios for what the situation of each homeless person is, and whether or not they are liars or tell the truth, whether or not they smell good or just okay, whether they're young or old, we put them into a category and there they remain.
---
John had served for six years in the Army, part of the 11-Bravo Infantry unit, back in the seventies. He had been barely making it for several years, but when the VA stopped sending his checks it was a matter of weeks and he was on the street. From April of 2009 to March of 2010 he struggled, living on West Colfax street, staying in shelters during the winter and somehow the days passed through the spring, summer and fall. Mid-March Restoration Community Church held a huge feast for the homeless in his area for Easter, and he joined, connecting with a young married couple who were serving that Sunday. Something clicked, and they were friends. Calls were made, his situation explained, and by mid-April he received his money for the past year of benefits that hadn't been paid out. The first thing he did was check into a small motel and get cleaned up, taking a hot shower and enjoying a night's sleep on a real bed before following up with the government the next day about possibly moving into subsidized housing. That night several people from Colfax street who'd been watching him and heard from someone that he'd finally been paid mugged him. One came at him with a baseball bat, hitting him in the head. He grabbed the bat, threw it away, and started struggling with the young male that was beating him. The attacker called for a friend who came up behind John and hit him on the back of his head with a hammer. For three days he laid in the hospital first unconscious then in a chemically induced coma as the doctors monitored the three pools of blood that formed in his brain, trying to decide whether or not they should operate. I met him at a dinner for our church volunteers two days after he'd been released from the hospital. The young couple filled in the parts of the story to me, and his responses were "it's all good" and "I'm just thankful I'm alive and I get to be here with you folks. God is good."
---
It was 8:30 at night, I was coming home on the light rail after Saturday night church. My stop is 30th and Downing Street station, the last stop on the D-line that goes through downtown. It's right in the middle of what's known as Five Points, once called the "Amsterdam of the West." I stepped off and watched three cop cars come screaming up, peeling to a stop and jumping out as an ambulance sped off in the opposite direction, lights wailing and sirens flashing. A woman was hysterical as she was led to the second ambulance in handcuffs and put in the back doors accompanied by a police woman.
As I waited for my bus, several officers being led by an individual walked right next to where I was standing. "What exactly did you see?"
"I looked over and saw the woman push the man away, then as he moved towards her she stabbed him in the chest. Look, here's all the blood."
I turned my iPod up and gave them the privacy of the conversation, their note taking, flashlights skimming the concrete and red splashes and rapid-fire questions dancing as the music surrounded me. I knew and know nothing about what had happened or who was involved. But I do know one thing.
I need Jesus just as much or more as every one of those people.
I cannot fill the needs of these people, but something John said in his slow, gravelly and soft voice has always stuck with me. "Just throw us hard-up people a peace sign or something. That's all we need. Sure we need a lot more, but if you can't give us anything just hook us up with a smile." I put myself in his, Juni's, or anyone else's position, and the same smile I'd give my brother when he asks for me to buy him a lego set would make all the difference.
How?
Love. I look at Michael and say "No, I can't" but when I do it's with love and sincerity. Love and compassion are not material things, they're what Jesus has asked of us and what He's given you and I more of than we could ever imagine.
I challenge you to remember that and look past your discomfort.
Next time you're approached or walk by a homeless person, instead of avoiding eye contact hoping they don't ask you for money, look at them and smile. If they do ask you for money, respond politely and sincerely with compassion, but don't take from them their dignity.
Love them just like Jesus loves you.
The only thing that separates me from them is paychecks. If I was to stop being paid, eventually I would wind up in their position. Many, if not most of them are veterans of wars. The government doesn't like to to pay the VA benefits to their veterans and college students, which I know from experience.
Another difference between them and I is they often have little to no constructive networking. In other words, they have either never had or have somehow developed a network of friends and acquaintances who do not support, encourage them, or help them out of being homeless in any way. Often the darkness of their situation is shrouded by a mental disability, addiction of some kind, anger issue, or the most detrimental of all, they simply do not believe that they could ever become a functioning part of society or their families ever again.
Let me share just a few of their stories, but you'll have to imagine the smell of weeks-old cigarette smoke, blackened, marred teeth and beyond dirty clothing yourself.
---
Juni was born in Albuquerque, New Mexico in 1963, a year after my parents. The moment he found out I had done a year of active duty Air Force, his eyes lit up and he told me about how his Dad was in the Air Force and retired as a Chief Master Sergeant after 22 years of working on planes, C-17's and C-5's. Juni then thanked me for serving, saying he appreciated me giving up parts of my life "for my country" and said he admired my courage, finishing by telling me he couldn't ever join the military, they would've torn him apart. His dad used to come home and make him stand at parade rest as he gave his homework assignments to him. My throat caught as he stood up from the stool and did an imitation of it for me. It was a perfect parade rest stance, every detail dead-on to the point that Juni's eyes looked straight forward, unmoving.
I'm sure whatever he went through as a child was more rigorous than what I did in basic training.
He smiled and asked me about my family, and for an hour we swapped stories over several pool games. I came from a family of six kids, he had two sisters and was up in Denver visiting his Mother's grave and had spent several weeks at a relative's home in Aurora. It came time to leave, I had school the next day, so we walked downstairs and outside into the cool air. Juni walked beside me, and as we passed a couple of businessmen who'd stepped outside for a smoke, Juni asked politely if he could have a smoke. With nothing more than pure disdain written across his clean-cut features, one of the men took a long draw and said "you can have the rest of this when I'm done with it."
On a daily basis Juni is spoken to, treated, and glanced at this way, probably dozens of times. Society has developed several scenarios for what the situation of each homeless person is, and whether or not they are liars or tell the truth, whether or not they smell good or just okay, whether they're young or old, we put them into a category and there they remain.
---
John had served for six years in the Army, part of the 11-Bravo Infantry unit, back in the seventies. He had been barely making it for several years, but when the VA stopped sending his checks it was a matter of weeks and he was on the street. From April of 2009 to March of 2010 he struggled, living on West Colfax street, staying in shelters during the winter and somehow the days passed through the spring, summer and fall. Mid-March Restoration Community Church held a huge feast for the homeless in his area for Easter, and he joined, connecting with a young married couple who were serving that Sunday. Something clicked, and they were friends. Calls were made, his situation explained, and by mid-April he received his money for the past year of benefits that hadn't been paid out. The first thing he did was check into a small motel and get cleaned up, taking a hot shower and enjoying a night's sleep on a real bed before following up with the government the next day about possibly moving into subsidized housing. That night several people from Colfax street who'd been watching him and heard from someone that he'd finally been paid mugged him. One came at him with a baseball bat, hitting him in the head. He grabbed the bat, threw it away, and started struggling with the young male that was beating him. The attacker called for a friend who came up behind John and hit him on the back of his head with a hammer. For three days he laid in the hospital first unconscious then in a chemically induced coma as the doctors monitored the three pools of blood that formed in his brain, trying to decide whether or not they should operate. I met him at a dinner for our church volunteers two days after he'd been released from the hospital. The young couple filled in the parts of the story to me, and his responses were "it's all good" and "I'm just thankful I'm alive and I get to be here with you folks. God is good."
---
It was 8:30 at night, I was coming home on the light rail after Saturday night church. My stop is 30th and Downing Street station, the last stop on the D-line that goes through downtown. It's right in the middle of what's known as Five Points, once called the "Amsterdam of the West." I stepped off and watched three cop cars come screaming up, peeling to a stop and jumping out as an ambulance sped off in the opposite direction, lights wailing and sirens flashing. A woman was hysterical as she was led to the second ambulance in handcuffs and put in the back doors accompanied by a police woman.
As I waited for my bus, several officers being led by an individual walked right next to where I was standing. "What exactly did you see?"
"I looked over and saw the woman push the man away, then as he moved towards her she stabbed him in the chest. Look, here's all the blood."
I turned my iPod up and gave them the privacy of the conversation, their note taking, flashlights skimming the concrete and red splashes and rapid-fire questions dancing as the music surrounded me. I knew and know nothing about what had happened or who was involved. But I do know one thing.
I need Jesus just as much or more as every one of those people.
I cannot fill the needs of these people, but something John said in his slow, gravelly and soft voice has always stuck with me. "Just throw us hard-up people a peace sign or something. That's all we need. Sure we need a lot more, but if you can't give us anything just hook us up with a smile." I put myself in his, Juni's, or anyone else's position, and the same smile I'd give my brother when he asks for me to buy him a lego set would make all the difference.
How?
Love. I look at Michael and say "No, I can't" but when I do it's with love and sincerity. Love and compassion are not material things, they're what Jesus has asked of us and what He's given you and I more of than we could ever imagine.
I challenge you to remember that and look past your discomfort.
Next time you're approached or walk by a homeless person, instead of avoiding eye contact hoping they don't ask you for money, look at them and smile. If they do ask you for money, respond politely and sincerely with compassion, but don't take from them their dignity.
Love them just like Jesus loves you.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
There are seventy people to my left, and seventy people on the right of me. Thirteen rows above me and thirteen rows below me. Four thousand people are gathered to pursue wisdom, knowledge and the experience of the speakers that will present effectiveness in the areas of student ministry. My voice is drowned out among the hundreds around me praising our Creator with one tongue carefully orchestrated by the powerhouse of worship on the stage that sculpts the night into one heart lifted up to our God. A quarter of a million dollars pushes the sound beyond my ears and directly into my chest, I can literally feel the music, the bass and the drums. Another quarter of a million stares back at me on huge plasma screens and bright lights that dance tirelessly controlled by nimble, educated and pre-programmed fingers.
This is Orange.
Youth ministry, outlines, breakout group topics and leading talking points. The crucial do's and don't's of student ministry. "We've been there and done that so now we're here. Learn what success can look lke and watch God work. We have." Almost every single person in this huge arena has been in the ministry more years than I have, and most of them full time. And so with my eyes wide and unexperienced ear tuning into whatever I can possibly hear I walk, sit, and wait in lines listening to the lectures, speakers and conversations around me. No more than fifteen minutes goes by in the entirety of nine hours a day for four days when I don't learn something new, helpful or that I could really use.
I have yet to see more than one or two actual teenagers in this sea of pulses dedicated to serving them and leading the age group to know what it means to follow Jesus. This isn't that venue. This is for the people who will reach out to them, build relationships, listen to them, and take a pay cut for them. Most people around me recognize who the speakers are and have either read or know of their books. I don't fall in with any of the above, unfortunately. I'm walking down an aisle reading labels and descriptions of unfamiliar products I know nothing of, but as the speakers stand and share their hearts, communicating experience and professional perceptions of youth ministry, I savor the taste of what they share.
This is the Orange conference, it's about what you get when you collide. When you collide with God, the world, and people. When colors collide and bright orange happens.
So much is planned, prepared and arranged under the umbrella of stewardship and a healthy structure. When we all return to our respective cities, states and countries we will again dive back into a world where God is sovereign and people are hurting. The church will hit 63% of it's income for the month, a friend of a teenager will cut herself to gain a twisted idea of relief and attention, and two of the nine students attending will text during youth group. And yet God is sovereign not in a removed, impersonal way. He is sovereign in a present, real way. Every week, every day, in every conversation He is there, the only reason what happens at youth group is not a gimmick, entertainment or a waste of time.
It's Orange, when God, youth and their leaders collide.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Lunch
I've just walked past nine booths lined up on either side of me displaying the pictures of hungry, dirty children with the most beautiful eyes and smiles you could ever hope to see.
In our marketing culture of small payment plans, redit lines, sex appeal and sales that draw us in, at the heart of it all is our culture. We are a culture that spends. We buy comfort, love, health, laughs, counseling sessions and new movies. Hand-in-hand with every taste or preference you have is an opportunity to serve or an outreach to join with. If you want to build a well, adopt a child, buy incredible photographs to support a given cause or travel the world in service, the opportunities are there. On this planet with networking now so extensive I can identify with someone four states away who just posted an update about doing their taxes at the last second possible just like I did, there is literally a limitless, infinite number of available chances to serve or give.
We pull up in our Buick Rendezevous careful to park with an even space nest to both sides of the vehicle, get out and lock it with the push of a button, then go inside to get our badge for the week having already registered online.
We walk by the ministry tables and smile courteously, making a mental note to avoid that section of the conferencing area from now on. I stood and watched over lunch, and so, so many people reacted that way.
Jesus said "there will always be the poor." This may or may not surprise you, but He was speaking the truth. I contend, however, that He was not providing an escape route. We are not called to serve everyone in the world tirelessly and care about every single outreach, He was also clear about that. We are given specific gifts, passions, intuitions and abilities. But what Jesus did say, and what I saw a startling lack of, is compassion.
"Caring" and "getting involved" are not synonymous with compassion. Compassion is sincere, scriptural, and an aspect of our faith that is both unique and powerful. What does it look like to be compassionate, to have compassion for those who hunger for and need it more than a well, medical help or an education?
Every single answer to life as we need is found in the bible, and we have it as an open book to refer to as often as we like, no holds barred. That should be where we learn to sift through hundreds of organizations, thousands of people passionate about them, and the millions of needs that are represented. What is it that God is calling me to, how can I encourage these people and what they do? How can I use the gifts I've been given for His glory and learn how to become more compassionate and full of grace?
I saw many people give the booths they walked by the same look I imagine they give homeless people asking for a dollar, and it was so apparent the difference between what a hardened heart looks like and what compassion comes across as. A hardened heart shuts out each booth and makes the person feel a slight twinge of guilt as they walk by and later push a button to unlock their 2009 SUV. A compassionate heart sees the unity in Jesus through grace and is open and honest as they interact with the individuals who are so drawn to those needs, joining them in prayer and through fellowship with the Holy Spirit whether or not they adopt a child for $38.00 a month.
I'm sitting in a conference here in Atlanta, Georgia soaking up the warm humidity and words of people with many more years of experience and much more wisdom than I could ever aspire to attaining. These people read, live and communicate effective teaching and ministry. A little unorthodox, yes, but I cannot sit and learn. I'm wired kinetically; I need to be doing something, anything. And so I stand for a little bit, walk around some in a room filled with over fifteen hundred people. It's distracting for them extending maybe...thirty seconds, then they figure it out. Oh, he can't sit still. Sorry peoples. It's either that or I play with your hair or bring legos in.
The legos are noisy and make people jealous that they didn't bring their own in, and playing with someone else's hair could be an assault charge. Aren't you all glad I'm just walking around?
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Squinting looking backwards.
At 22 I have no wisdom to impart to anyone, all I know is I've not only decided to not grow up, but I'm intent on making sure I don't. I have enough responsibility, my taxes are simple enough to be done in just over thirty minutes error-free, and although I am not a band with a Myspace page that has 29 million views, I've still managed to experience joy in more ways than I could have expected.
I have learned that there are consequences to my actions, sometimes good, and sometimes not so good. Occasionally it doesn't even matter what I've done, there are good or bad consequences attached that I couldn't have foreseen. Eggs have lots of protein and go well with many different kinds of food, so they're a cheap, filling investment on the table of "Nourishment and Prices." On that same chart is pasta and peanut butter.
I've discovered that while there is a more than significant amount of effort and work involved in beginning and keeping up a successful garden, the combined release of pouring myself into it and the resulting pesticide-free vegetables that abound in it are far, far worth whatever was invested in the small plot. Grandparents do not live forever, but their eyes do light up in a way when they see their grandchildren that cannot be equated with anything else in all of life.
People will never stop being amazed at creation, at the habits, behavior, and stories of the animal kingdom. As long as there is cinematography the world will continue to be floored by slow-motion shots of lizards and bugs, several large cats pouncing on a female ostrich, or the size of a whale. We will never be in short supply of incredible and jaw-dropping visual images and hearing about how intelligent certain species are, or what techniques they use to hunt their prey. We'll always be surprised, as if learning for the first time that God's creativity extends further than our own.
Music, like culture, evolves. Hairstyles, the ability to stand apart from society and give it the finger from a distance will always entice the younger ages and earn scorn from the more aged. It will always be romantic to rebel and the profit will be from those who are taken in by it.
The world creates something desirable, the government regulates it, and after several generations society strikes out against the government and moves on to something more desirable that isn't yet regulated.
I've learned that the people who hold the key to successful parenting are the children, not the parents themselves. With each generation it's the children who know how they should've been raised and not the adults who know how they should've raised them. The children grow up and learn how difficult it is sometimes to have a family and know how to make the right decisions, and the price of gas slides upward averaging a cent at a time.
The first snow is always the most beautiful and the last one the most unexpected. A lit baseball field at night never loses it's aura of magic. Strangers always want to know when their front tire looks a little low. Peace is found in the face of a sleeping baby and few other places on earth. It's easier to argue a point than agree that you're wrong. War is fought by young men single and married, the wives, sisters and mothers at home wear it, it's paid for by tax on groceries and the high-ranking older men know this as they make every decision.
There never was any less sin in the world than from the first day it entered the kingdom of Earth. As time goes on it may become more or less apparent the need for grace as a person is more or less sensitive to the Holy Spirit. The older I get the more I realize how little I really know and how so much of my life is out of my control, and I'm more thankful for it.
People have favorite ice creams, songs, places to visit and breeds of dog, but everyone agrees that centipedes are scary and straight up evil.
I have learned that there are consequences to my actions, sometimes good, and sometimes not so good. Occasionally it doesn't even matter what I've done, there are good or bad consequences attached that I couldn't have foreseen. Eggs have lots of protein and go well with many different kinds of food, so they're a cheap, filling investment on the table of "Nourishment and Prices." On that same chart is pasta and peanut butter.
I've discovered that while there is a more than significant amount of effort and work involved in beginning and keeping up a successful garden, the combined release of pouring myself into it and the resulting pesticide-free vegetables that abound in it are far, far worth whatever was invested in the small plot. Grandparents do not live forever, but their eyes do light up in a way when they see their grandchildren that cannot be equated with anything else in all of life.
People will never stop being amazed at creation, at the habits, behavior, and stories of the animal kingdom. As long as there is cinematography the world will continue to be floored by slow-motion shots of lizards and bugs, several large cats pouncing on a female ostrich, or the size of a whale. We will never be in short supply of incredible and jaw-dropping visual images and hearing about how intelligent certain species are, or what techniques they use to hunt their prey. We'll always be surprised, as if learning for the first time that God's creativity extends further than our own.
Music, like culture, evolves. Hairstyles, the ability to stand apart from society and give it the finger from a distance will always entice the younger ages and earn scorn from the more aged. It will always be romantic to rebel and the profit will be from those who are taken in by it.
The world creates something desirable, the government regulates it, and after several generations society strikes out against the government and moves on to something more desirable that isn't yet regulated.
I've learned that the people who hold the key to successful parenting are the children, not the parents themselves. With each generation it's the children who know how they should've been raised and not the adults who know how they should've raised them. The children grow up and learn how difficult it is sometimes to have a family and know how to make the right decisions, and the price of gas slides upward averaging a cent at a time.
The first snow is always the most beautiful and the last one the most unexpected. A lit baseball field at night never loses it's aura of magic. Strangers always want to know when their front tire looks a little low. Peace is found in the face of a sleeping baby and few other places on earth. It's easier to argue a point than agree that you're wrong. War is fought by young men single and married, the wives, sisters and mothers at home wear it, it's paid for by tax on groceries and the high-ranking older men know this as they make every decision.
There never was any less sin in the world than from the first day it entered the kingdom of Earth. As time goes on it may become more or less apparent the need for grace as a person is more or less sensitive to the Holy Spirit. The older I get the more I realize how little I really know and how so much of my life is out of my control, and I'm more thankful for it.
People have favorite ice creams, songs, places to visit and breeds of dog, but everyone agrees that centipedes are scary and straight up evil.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Not anything of mine
I set the iPod down, changed the phone from my right ear to my left so that my neck wouldn't be cramped, and pulled out my boarding pass.
Position 39-B on Southwest. Not bad.
I walked up to my place, waited in line, handed the ticketing agent my pass and boarded the plane.
Just short of two hours later I walked up to the Baggage Supervisor's office and put in my description of the iPod and informed them exactly where I'd left it in the Phoenix airport. The Denver personnel were more than courteous and apologetic for my loss. I got in the van, and hadn't yet reached home when I received a call from a Phoenix Southwest employee informing me they'd found my iPod, and were ready with instructions as to how I'd be able to have it Fedexed to my home.
...
It was 4:15am on the Sunday morning of my monthly duty weekend in Colorado Springs. The small Canadian man I ride with down to base each time was all smiles. "Are you ready? Let's get this day over with!" I always knew that I could count on Sergeant Budding. Good or bad, whether it was a beautiful bright shiny summer morning or cold blizzarding wintery one, he would find a way to bash it relentlessly. That and the traffic.
86 miles. From my front doorstep to the clinic we worked at, it was 86 miles.
Sergeant Budding was almost out of gas, didn't have his wallet, and I'd left my card in my lab coat pocket the day before while covering for one of phlebotomists. Between the two of us, eighty-five cents.
The math didn't work, there was no way we should've made it. I prayed much of the way while Sergeant Budding cursed hills, stoplights, slow vehicles and the slowly fading bars on his gas gauge. Eighty-six miles on little more than fumes, and we made it.
Psalm 139:1-3
"O Lord, you have searched me and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise;
You perceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down;
You are familiar with all my ways."
Position 39-B on Southwest. Not bad.
I walked up to my place, waited in line, handed the ticketing agent my pass and boarded the plane.
Just short of two hours later I walked up to the Baggage Supervisor's office and put in my description of the iPod and informed them exactly where I'd left it in the Phoenix airport. The Denver personnel were more than courteous and apologetic for my loss. I got in the van, and hadn't yet reached home when I received a call from a Phoenix Southwest employee informing me they'd found my iPod, and were ready with instructions as to how I'd be able to have it Fedexed to my home.
...
It was 4:15am on the Sunday morning of my monthly duty weekend in Colorado Springs. The small Canadian man I ride with down to base each time was all smiles. "Are you ready? Let's get this day over with!" I always knew that I could count on Sergeant Budding. Good or bad, whether it was a beautiful bright shiny summer morning or cold blizzarding wintery one, he would find a way to bash it relentlessly. That and the traffic.
86 miles. From my front doorstep to the clinic we worked at, it was 86 miles.
Sergeant Budding was almost out of gas, didn't have his wallet, and I'd left my card in my lab coat pocket the day before while covering for one of phlebotomists. Between the two of us, eighty-five cents.
The math didn't work, there was no way we should've made it. I prayed much of the way while Sergeant Budding cursed hills, stoplights, slow vehicles and the slowly fading bars on his gas gauge. Eighty-six miles on little more than fumes, and we made it.
Psalm 139:1-3
"O Lord, you have searched me and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise;
You perceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down;
You are familiar with all my ways."
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