Post #200--Five Questions

This is my 200th blog post. I'm not gonna throw a party or anything, but it does seem to be at least a little bit significant, so I wanted to make the post at least a little bit significant to commemorate the event.

I remembered my friend RevScott's "Five Questions Interview" post, and thought that might be both fun and interesting. And true to form, he came up with some great questions.

I only hope my answers are half as interesting. Here goes:

1. Describe the most memorable sporting event (watched or played in) in your life that has nothing to do with the Nebraska Cornhuskers or the Boston Red Sox.
Hmmm...actually, by far the most memorable sporting event that I can think of not involving those two teams is one that I didn't attend (which, strangely enough, helps make it memorable). I'll explain. It was fall of 1990, my junior year of high school, and football was in the air (as it always is in the fall). We had a team that Garrison Keillor would describe as "Lake Wobegon-esque." It was most decidedly above average. Not great, but not bad either.

On our schedule that season was Creighton Prep. We hated them. They were a private school unencumbered by things like district boundaries and pulled in kids from all over the Omaha area. And they had won the state title three years in a row, going undefeated during that whole span. Jerks. My school, Bellevue West, was made up of probably 90% military kids. The average military family moves every 3 1/2 years. Do you have any idea how hard it is to build any kind of team chemistry when a quarter of your team graduates each year, and another third of your team moves away? Every year?

Did I mention that we had an intense dislike of Creighton Prep?

So, somewhere in the middle of the season, we played Creighton Prep. I was so going to be at that game. My friends and I had plans to paint our faces...the whole school was going to be there. There was a buzz for weeks before.

Problem is, the game was on a Friday night. And I had registered to take the ACT the next morning. And I have good parents who realize that getting a good night's sleep tends to help one do better on college entrance exams.

I wasn't at the game.

I wasn't there when Eric Fleckten, the good looking soccer player-turned-kicker who played first chair trumpet in the band, ended up being valedictorian, went to my church and was an all around nice guy kicked the game winning field goal as time expired to let Bellevue West win and hand Creighton Prep their first loss in almost 4 years.

I wasn't there when all the students rushed the field and carried Eric off.

I wasn't there for the celebrations afterwards, the re-living of the game, the excited comparing of plays.

But I was at the school cafeteria the next morning, where among whispers of "can you believe we won?!?!" I took the ACT.

I got a 32. Never had to take it again.

2. What's your favorite hymn/church song, and why?
I have so many favorites for so many different reasons, and there was a time not so long ago where I would have answered without hesitation "Jesus Christ Is Risen Today" (LBW 151). The last few years, however, I've had a new favorite: "Crown Him With Many Crowns." The tune is gorgeous and soaring, you can totally rock out to it with a big ol' honkin' pipe organ and some trumpets, and the lyrics speak of Christ's triumph and glory while still pointing back to the cross. I've said before that I'm a hymn crier--this one, when done well, can get me going just about every time.

Plus, Lost and Found did a great version of it on one of their albums. =)

3. Ever laughed so hard you snorted milk out your nose or your stomach ached? If so, tell us about that moment.
It was at one of my birthday parties...I would have been a young teenager, maybe 12 or 13. I don't remember what was said that was so funny, but we were about to have cake and I DO remember taking a drink of milk right before whatever the funny comment was. Everyone was laughing, but I was the only one with liquid in his mouth--it was almost instantaneous. Up the nasal passages and out the nose came the milk. All over the table. It was an oddly chilly sensation.

4. What's the best thing about living with Sweetie and Kiddo?
Moments like yesterday evening. Sweetie and I were sitting on the living room floor, balancing the checkbook and paying bills. We have a system set up where I'll read dollar amounts off of receipts and such, and she'll record them...then after we've recorded our transactions, I'll run the calculator while she reads off each recorded dollar amount and how much to subtract or add (usually it's subtraction...), and she'll write down the balances.

Wow, I just re-read that paragraph. It's not nearly as complicated as it sounds.

Anyway, Kiddo likes to help when we're balancing. He has a stack of old offering envelopes that he uses to pay his "bills," and a big calculator where he'll punch numbers and yell out amounts to us in a very businesslike manner. Then he'll ask us how many dollars he should add. We'll give him a random number, and after a few minutes of furious button pushing he'll triumphantly announce "sixteen dollars!"

We enjoy each other's company. We have fun paying the freakin' bills. I love that.

5. Other than Billy Joel, who are your favorite musicians and why?
I tend to go for singer-songwriters. There's a distinction to be made here...there are some folks referred to as "singer-songwriter" that can't really sing all that well. And there's others who sing stuff that others have written for them.

I like singer-songwriters. Ya gotta be able to do both. Write your own music, play your own instruments, tell me a story and sing it well.

In this group, Paul Simon/Simon and Garfunkel and James Taylor are absolutely the two standouts. But I've discovered some younger singer-songwriters that I've grown to love as well: Sonya Kitchell, Teitur, and Joshua Radin are three of my current favorites.

And RevScott would kill me if I didn't mention Storyhill, who he introduced me to and whose music I love as well.

Bonus question: you've been a Cornhusker fan for much of your life. What's your coolest "Big Red" moment, the one that makes you think, "THIS is why I'm a big fan!"?
Disclosure time here--RevScott asked this question already knowing what my answer would be.

My answer is about Turner Gill.

Being the son of an Air Force officer, I wasn't born in Nebraska, but my family moved to Nebraska in December of 1983 when my dad was stationed at Offutt Air Force Base. The very first Husker game I ever remember watching was the 1984 Orange Bowl for the national championship against Miami. I rooted for the Huskers, but only since they were the team of my new homestate rather than any particular emotional investment. At the end of the game, Nebraska scored a late touchdown--if they had kicked the extra point, it would have tied the game and Nebraska would likely have been named national champions (Miami was ranked #4 at the time). Instead they decided to go for two points and the outright win. Turner Gill was Nebraska's quarterback, and I remember his pass being tipped away at the last moment. The Huskers lost the game, and Miami was crowned national champs. What I remember more is the dignity and class Turner showed in the days and weeks following the loss. It was then that I really became a Husker fan.

Fast forward 21 years. Turner Gill, after a numebr of years as a Husker assistant coach, announced his resignation from the Husker football program in December of 2004. I was a semi-regular poster on a website and message board called Huskerpedia.com, and like many others, wished that there was something I could do to express all that Turner Gill had meant to me and to the Husker program in all his years here. I set up a Yahoo email address and posted a request on Huskerpedia to have people send thank-you emails to Turner at this address. My plan was to print them out and send them through the mail to Turner. In about a week and a half, I received 761 emails. After a TON of cutting, pasting, and formatting, I was able to fit them all on to 137 pages. I printed them out and sent them to Turner's home in Lincoln (his address was in the phone book) with a cover letter from me. (I'll reprint some of the responses in another post.)

About a week later, when I got home from work, there was a message on my answering machine. It was Turner Gill, saying thank you for the work I had done and telling me that he'd try calling back again because he didn't want to just leave a message. Remember now that during this time he was interviewing for a new position in Green Bay. He tried calling again a few days later, and left his number telling me to call him. I called, and his wife answered and said he was out, but that if I told her a good time to try the next day he'd call me then. Sure enough, he did. We talked for a good 15 minutes about life, faith, and football. At the end of our conversation, he invited me OVER TO HIS HOUSE the next day so that he could give me a thank you note and autographed football for all my trouble.

When I got to his house the next day, Turner greeted me at the door wearing a Husker shirt. By this time he had accepted a player development position with the Green Bay Packers, and was getting ready to move. The house was in that "in-between" stage...lots of half-filled boxes scattered around the living room and kitchen. Both he and his wife apologized for the condition of the house. He grabbed the football and note off his kitchen counter and handed it to me, and he and his wife both thanked me again for the email project. Turner said he had gotten a chance to read through a lot of it on his way to and from Green Bay, and he was really touched. I asked if it would be all right if I had a picture taken with him, and he immediately agreed. His wife was worried about all the boxes laying around, but decided that the best place would be in front of the fireplace. She took a framed picture off the floor and propped it up on the mantel so there would be something behind our heads, then snapped a picture with my camera.

That was Turner Gill to me in a nutshell. I tried to do something nice for him, to show how much he was appreciated by Husker fans everywhere, and he turned it around and ended up going out of his way to do something incredibly nice for me. He will always be a hero of mine, not because he was a great player or coach, but because he is an incredible human being who wants nothing but the best for those around him. He is a man of faith who sees helping others as his calling from God, and he's just grateful to have the platform of football to be able to help him achieve that calling.


Yours Truly and Turner Gill, in his living room

Now, here's the rest of the deal:

1. If you are interested in being interviewed, leave me a comment saying “Interview me."

2. I will respond by posting five questions for you. I get to pick the questions.

3. You will update your blog with a post containing your answers to the questions.

4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

LH

Looking Back, Part 2: Preschool

As we continue our trip down the amnesia lane that was mid-August until mid-September (hereafter referred to as "the lost blogging month"), we come to another big day for Kiddo and his parents:

The first day of preschool.

Kiddo's enrolled in a preschool at a Lutheran church about 7 blocks from the church I'm at. The main teacher has a master's in early childhood development, and is a really nice lady to boot. There's two assistants who are also very qualified...and great with young kids. We had gone to an open house in the spring and had been talking it up all summer...the teacher had made a home visit the week before and had done some activities with Kiddo...there was a picture of him hanging up in the preschool room, he had made his own bag and t-shirt...and now it was the day after Labor Day, the first day of class, and he was all ready to go.

Except he didn't wanna.

And oh boy didn't he wanna. Sweetie took that morning off from work to help see him off, and actually at first he was okay with it all. He posed for pictures at home, got into the van, and even talked about it on the way there.

But when the time came to get out of the van and walk inside, neither hell nor high water would tear him from his carseat. And the pitiful wailing could be heard for miles:

“MOM-my!!! DAD-dy!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!”

We pried him loose from his seat: “MOM-my!!! DAD-dy!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!”

We dragged him inside the building: “MOM-my!!! DAD-dy!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!”

Down the hallway, church secretaries looking on with bemused acknowledgement: “MOM-my!!! DAD-dy!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!”

Past other parents who had already calmly dropped off their children, trying not to make eye contact: “MOM-my!!! DAD-dy!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!”

And into the classroom, where Kiddo promptly latched himself on to Sweetie's leg: “MOM-my!!! DAD-dy!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!”

It was not pretty.

He wasn't too fond of being there, but was willing to deal with it as long as we stayed. After about ten minutes of him following us everywhere, though, it became obvious that sooner or later we were just going to have to pull off the bandaid and leave.

Mrs. H, one of the assistants, came over and held Kiddo back as we walked out the door, the sounds of “MOM-my!!! DAD-dy!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!” echoing down the hallway chasing us as we left.

Wanna hear something funny?

According to the teachers, five minutes after we left, Kiddo was back to normal. And he had a great morning. In fact, the first thing he said when I came to pick him up 3 hours later was "I had fun, Daddy!!!"

It took a few days, but the last 3 times I've brought him I've been able to drop him off without incident. Which is good. He's growing up. He's not as dependent on Mommy and Daddy.

Honestly, it makes me a little sad, though. He's not even 4 and we're already beginning the long process of letting go of our baby.

A side note: last week, Kiddo learned a song to the tune of "Oh My Darling Clementine" that teaches the days of the week. "There are seven days, there are seven days, there are seven days in a week...Sunday Monday, Tuesday Wednesday, Thursday Friday, Sa-tur-day." Over the weekend we had a Beatles CD on the stereo, and the song "8 Days a Week" came on. We didn't say anything, but somewhere in the middle of the song, Kiddo turns to Sweetie with a puzzled look and says "8 days?!?!?!?!" We've decided that the Beatles were pretty silly guys.

We'll wait a few years to discuss the various causes of their silliness.

Pictures? You say you want pictures? Well, why didn't you say so earlier?!?! =)

Outside the house, ready to go!!! (As long as I'm with Mom and Dad, that is...)



"I had fun, Daddy!"

Looking Back, Part 1: Kiddo the Ringbearer

Well, a lot has transpired in the LutheranHusker household in the month since I last posted regularly, most of it revolving around Kiddo (surprise, surprise). In part one of our trip down Recent Memory Lane, we go back to about a week and a half ago, when Kiddo was the ring bearer in Sweetie's cousin's wedding. It was a beautiful wedding, the bride and groom are an incredible couple, but for a proud Mommy and Daddy, the main event was the little 3 year-old in the tux walking down the aisle at the beginning of the service (spurred on by promises of candy corn when he got to the front), and walking out of the sanctuary at the end of the service (spurred on by promises of a Lightning McQueen toy when he got to the back).

Frankly, I can't believe he did it. Anyone who knows Kiddo knows that once he warms up, he's a ham. BUT in front of a bunch of strangers, he's one of the shyest kids you'll meet.

And not only did he walk all the way down a pretty long aisle, he actually did it slowly, staying with the flower girl (who was a GORGEOUS little 4 year old). In fact, the 2 kids were so concerned about staying together that as they walked, they went slower...and slower...and slower...each one not wanting to get in front of the other...until by the time they reached the front they were practically at a snail's pace. All very cute, though.

Pictures? You say you want pictures of the blessed event? Well, why didn't you ask earlier???

=)


I clean up pretty well for a 3 year-old! Speaking of which, where's my Teddy Grahams?



Look who I get to walk down the aisle with!


We did it! Time to head to the reception and play tag around the tables!!!

LH

To Derek

I saw the look on your face this noontime. Shame. A little bit of fear.

But mostly weariness.

Life's just got you beaten down, doesn't it? A girlfriend, a child, a back surgery, a lost job, and suddenly you're scraping by trying to make ends meet working at close to minimum wage for a day labor firm. The kind of place that pays you daily.

They pay you in cash, don't they? They're probably doing it to get around employer taxes. But that's not my concern. Nor is it yours.

Your concern is keeping food on the table and a roof over your head.

I recognized that look on your face today, Derek. I heard the echoes of my own voice in yours--saw my own younger visage in you. When the noontime sun hit your face just right, I saw myself, ten years ago, looking back at me.

I heard your apologies. You weren't following that closely behind the car. Who would have thought everyone would come to a stop so quickly? You've been beside yourself all morning thinking of the trouble you put my wife through when you rear-ended her Grand Prix on the way to work. You're so thankful she's okay and that our car isn't too damaged (though thanks to the marvels of modern automaking, an entirely new rear bumper and paint job is probably in order, just to fix a few bumps and dents and a little piece torn underneath).

And you wish to God that you had paid your insurance premium last month.

Yes, you paid it at 11:15 this morning. But the accident was a little before 8. And you're scared. You're scared of the ramifications of all of this. You assure me time and time again that you want to do the right thing. That you want to make sure my wife and I are taken care of. And that you're willing to do whatever it takes--sell off your car even--to do right by us.

I watch my own weary face from ten years ago in yours as you float an idea to me. You've thought about this, you tell me. And maybe the best thing to do is to tell the insurance companies tonight, when we file our claims, that the accident happened over lunch. Like, say, 11:16 or later. That way I can get my car fixed right away and have it paid for without having to wait for you to pay me back in small installments over time, because there's no way you can afford the thousand dollar or so lump-sum a new bumper and paint are going to cost. It would help me, you say, and help you too at the same time.

I watch your weary face go ashen as I tell you that's an idea I can't go along with. One doesn't go about "doing the right thing" by committing insurance fraud. I tell you that straight out, and I say it a little bit hard. Intentionally. I can tell you're a good kid. I can tell you're a fundamentally good person who has fallen on hard times--whether your fault or not, I don't know and it doesn't really matter--and I don't want to see you in a worse position by making a big mistake that seems like such a little white lie.

You know what they say about the road to hell, don't you, Derek? Paved with good intentions.

Ten years ago, I was sleeping on a mattress on the floor of a roach-infested apartment in a part of town folks don't generally go after dark, unless they're looking for drugs or prostitutes. I was a college graduate who was thousands of dollars in debt and working for $6 an hour driving a van for a day care facility. Part of my predicament was my own fault--a large part of it was. Part of it was just the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Like your situation, how I got there wasn't nearly as important as the fact that I was there at all.

After paying rent and my share of the utilities, I had very little left over. And I had collection agents calling. One day I had to borrow money from my girlfriend so that my car wouldn't be reposessed by a company that was charging me 30% interest on a loan. I had been given literally hours to come up with the money or lose my car.

Turns out I lost the car anyway. Not long after that episode, it was parked on the street overnight (my apartment had only one off-street parking spot, and my roommate and I took turns using that precious spot) and I was awakened at 3 in the morning by a huge crash. A 17 year old kid, high on meth, had plowed through my car...and had taken out two other cars...and a street sign...while driving a pickup truck he had stolen from his grandfather.

This was at 3 AM. I was supposed to be at work at 5. There were kids to be picked up. There were parents counting on me to be able to get themselves to work.

Oh, and a small detail--like you, Derek, I wished to God that I had paid my insurance premium the previous month. Or the month before. In fact, just the previous day, I had received that dreaded yet inevitable letter from my insurance company telling me that my policy had expired due to nonpayment. And do you think the kid's, or the grandpa's, insurance company was about to cover an accident in a stolen vehicle operated by someone under the influence of an illegal drug? Not so much.

I know your weariness, Derek. I know the feeling of defeat. I know what it's like to work and work and work, only to fall further and further behind.

That's one of the reasons I pushed you so hard today. There's no doubt in my mind that you'll make things right for my wife and I. If it takes years, I know you'll do it. But Derek, I want you to do it right. No shortcuts. No trying to pull others into the possibility of getting in trouble themselves by lying about the time of an accident. I know the temptation. Don't think I wasn't tempted myself today. In a lot of ways, it would have been a lot easier if we had "agreed" that the accident had actually happened in the afternoon.

But Derek, doing the right thing isn't always easy. And doing the easy thing doesn't always lead to a happy ending.

My story has a happy ending. I called my insurance company and explained my situation. I paid my policy current, and they decided to cover my claim. I had to pay a deductible, but when one is dealing with a totaled car, a $100 deductible is a piece of cake.

And about 6 months later, I received a $100 refund. My company's lawyers had convinced the other company's lawyers to cover the claim. No deductible necessary.

And over time, with a hell of a lot of hard work and a little bit of help, I slowly pulled myself out of debt. It wasn't easy. I ate a lot of mac and cheese and peanut butter sandwiches in the process. But I'll be damned if I didn't get back on my feet.

You'll get there too, Derek. I can tell. I can tell because you've got heart. You're weary, you're beaten down, but there's a heart beating in there that's strong and defiant and proud. It's a heart that didn't run away from responsibility this morning. It's a heart that wants to do good for the benefit of others. I see my ten-years-ago-23-year-old-heart beating in you.

You offered on the phone tonight to cover my deductible payment if I end up having to file through my own company. If that's the way it happens, I do intend to take you up on that offer. I wish I could afford to write it off--if this was a movie, that's how it would happen--but with a child of my own and another one on the way (by the way, I'm glad you don't know that little tidbit, that my wife is 9 weeks pregnant...I don't think you could handle that much more guilt), I don't have that luxury. I'm praying that your insurance company gives you the same gift mine gave me ten years ago...

...the gift of grace.

Derek, keep on keepin' on. You're in my prayers, buddy. May God somehow use your despair over the events of today for good.

LH

Minor news, and MAJOR news!

First, the minor news:

I finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows yesterday. And it rocked. I laughed, I cried, I died a thousand deaths, it was better than Cats, I want to read it again and again.

Seriously. Good. Stuff.

Lemme know if you want to discuss it--for the time being, I won't post any spoilers here, but I'm always up for a good email discussion!

And, the major news:

Sweetie is pregnant! Woo hoo!!! Kiddo #2 is due sometime around the beginning of March. Sweetie's about 8 weeks into the pregnancy, and hasn't been feeling the best--prayers for her would be appreciated--BUT, so far (knock on wood) she hasn't felt nearly as bad as she did at this point with Kiddo. Not a whole lot of other details since we're relatively early on right now, but I'll be sure to keep y'all updated on how everything is. Basically, as long as Sweetie and the baby are healthy, that's all we're asking for.

One HUGE development that's happened since Kiddo was born: as we discovered during the pregnancy with Kiddo, Zofran is a Godsend when one is nauseated. It's amazing--almost magical.

It's also frickin' expensive. Even with insurance.

BUT...there's now a generic equivelent!!! Which means that our co-pay for 20 pills is only $10 now, instead of $45!

Without insurance, the name brand stuff is $799. For 20 pills. Eek.

SO...prayers for Sweetie to be healthy, happy and comfortable, for the baby to be healthy, for Kiddo (who currently thinks this whole baby thing is pretty cool) to be a wonderful big brother, and for me to be as supportive as I can be. That's not asking too much, is it?

LH

Welcome Back, Kotter

It's been a busy couple of weeks, hence my absence from the blogosphere as of late. I apologize for my lack of posting...things should slow down soon. For now though, I leave you with a link to RevScott's blog, which helps explain at least a small part of my recent busyness:

The Rev and Family Visit Nebraska

Thanks RevScott for posting the synopsis complete with pictures, so I didn't have to!!! =)

More to come later.

Personal Updates

Last Sunday was our church's 75th anniversary celebration (on top of being Palm/Passion Sunday). It. Went. Awesomely. We usually have two services on a Sunday morning, but last Sunday we combined the two into one really comprehensive (i.e. long) service. We had hymns, praise songs, 3 songs written by congregation members, a Prayer of the Day out of the 1930 American Lutheran Worship hymnal, a sermon by the synod bishop, a choir anthem, and a partridge in a pear tree...okay, everything but the bird. Most importantly to me, even with all of that, we kept the basic liturgical structure of the service and were able to both celebrate the anniversary while remembering Palm Sunday as well. We may have set some sort of Lutheran record for service length...the service ended up clocking in at:

One hour and forty minutes.

One hour and forty minutes.

One. Hour. And. Forty. Freakin'. Minutes.

And that was with the bishop only preaching for about eighteen of those minutes.

It was a marathon. But a good one. A worshipful one.

Later that afternoon, Sweetie and I both took a two hour nap.

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Overheard yesterday in the LH household:

Me: "Well, I guess I'd better get out there and mow the lawn before it snows tomorrow."

Note: It's not snowing yet, but the Weather Channel website tells me it's snowing about 40 miles west of us as I type this, and it's moving east (toward us). It was over 80 frickin' degrees here just on Monday! I love the Midwest, I love the Midwest, I love the Midwest, I love the Midwest...

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Also overheard yesterday:

Kiddo (who's fighting a cold): "Let's count the things we've done to help my nose. I took medicine, drank water, ate oranges, and used Chapstick. When am I going to get better, Daddy?"

Note: Not sure where he got the idea that Chapstick had medicinal powers...for the nose, no less...but you can be sure I'm filing that one away for some evening when we desperately need the power of the Three Year-Old Placebo Effect.

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Random thoughts on Holy Week:

Holy Week has always brought out my creative side. There's just so much meat in the accounts of Jesus' last week before his death and resurrection...so much to be mined there. I wish I had more time to write, but here and here are links to two "meditations" I've written this week about the Holy Week experience.

Holy Week kicks Christmas's butt up and down--not even close. It's too bad more attention isn't paid by those outside Mainline Christianity to the journey that Holy Week can be. As busy as the next few days are going to be, this is the week I live for each year as a Christian.

Tonight, at the end of the Maundy Thursday service, the pastor's going to strip the altar. I'm going to chant Psalm 22 acapella as he does it.

One of the things Sweetie and I have tried to do for a few years is, after each Holy Week service, after we've returned home, pulling out the Jesus of Nazareth DVD and watching the section of the movie that the service we had been to was about. Not sure how successful we'll be this year, especially with Kiddo's cold...he has very little patience for runny noses, but hates to blow his nose. Bad combination, and one that tells me we may be in for a long few days as far as he's concerned.

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Blessings to you on this Maundy Thursday!

LH

Apologies in advance

So much to blog about...so little time.

So true on both counts.

I really want to write something about the absolutely amazing Taylor Hicks concert I went to in Sioux City this past Saturday night, although I do have my video from the concert posted below (thanks again for the tickets, Sweetie...I love you!). And about Scrubs...how I was afraid in January that the show had finally jumped the shark, but now I'm relieved that it hasn't and think on the contrary it's gotten better than ever. And about the Lutheran student Center's Partner Appreciation Sunday worship and lunch that I went to yesterday. And about Kiddo. And about some "churchy" stuff--worship, education, music and such.

Unfortunately, no time for that today. In fact, my posting may be pretty spotty until April 9th.

Whay that date? Because it's the day after Easter. And while for most folks Easter is a holiday, for us church-types, it's the culmination of six weeks of above-average busy-ness, the last week of which is sheer craziness (schedule-wise, at least).

Add to the mix the fact that my congregation has its 75th Anniversary celebration this coming Sunday (Palm Sunday) and I have a ton of prep to do for that as well...and, well, you get the picture.

And I'm pretty sure Kiddo wouldn't mind seeing his daddy occasionally, and Sweetie would like to remember who her husband is.

So, while there may be some new stuff on here, for a couple of weeks it probably ain't gonna be with my usual regularity.

In the meantime, keep those cards and letters coming! God bless!

LH

Clean the Deck, Cinderella!

This morning, Kiddo decided our back deck needed a good, thorough cleaning. I wonder what the neighbors thought...



LH

My Books: Shelves #1 and #2

I thought it might be an interesting exercise to take a look at the books I've got on the shelf at home. (of course, I could be wrong. It might be extremely boring. If so, my apologies.) It's been a while since I've done an "inventory" anyway. I own a whole big ol' bunch of books, but I have half of them at home (the "non-religious" books) and the other half at the office (the "religious" books).



So these are from the "non-religious" category. I have a 5-shelf bookcase in the bedroom (one of those $45 Walmart "put it together yourself with the wood-colored cardboard in the back" deals), as well as books stuffed into the nightstand next to my bed.


This is what's on the top two shelves of the bedroom bookcase:

Culture Warrior by Bill O'Reilly (autographed, a gift from my parents)

Forever Red by Steve Smith

Me Talk Pretty One Day--Sedaris

The Little Prince--Saint-Exupery

In A Different Voice--Gilligan

Flight of the Old Dog--Brown (love this book!)

War and Peace--Tolstoy (yes, I actually HAVE read it in its entirety)

e.e. cummings: a selection of poems

The Hunchback of Notre Dame--Hugo

Black Like Me--Griffin

Emma--Austen

A Tale of Two Cities--Dickens

For Red Sox Fans Only!--Wolfe

Faithful: A Chronicle of the Red Sox 2004 Season--King (yes, Steven King...BIG Sox fan!)

Flowers For Algernon--Keyes

I Got a Job...and It Wasn't That Bad--Jim (a collection of comic strips...HILARIOUS in its understatedness)

A Tree Grows In Brooklyn--Smith

The Dialogues of Plato--do I REALLY have to list the author of this one? =)

Finn Family Moomintroll--Jannson (a gift from a friend...and apparently written for children on acid trips)

Night of the Hawk--Brown

The Pelican Brief--Grisham

Our Town--Wilder

Frankenstein--Shelley

Native Son--Wright

A Prayer for Owen Meany--Irving

It Was On Fire When I Lay Down On It--Fulghum

All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten--Fulghum

Snow Falling on Cedars--Guterson

Where The Red Fern Grows--Rawls

The Green Mile--King

The Death of Ivan Ilyich--Tolstoy

The Autobiography of Malcolm X--um....who else?

Bang the Drum Slowly--Harris

The Hunchback of Notre Dame--Hugo (dang it...a duplicate!)

Up From Slavery--Washington

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings--Angelou

Contact--Sagan

The Color Purple--Walker

The U.S. Constitution

Tom Sawyer Abroad and Tom Sawyer Detective--Clemens

The MLA Handbook

Of Mice and Men--Steinbeck

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead--Stoppard (GREAT play...but ya gotta have a firm handle on Hamlet to "get it")

Concise Readings in Philosophy--Halverson

The Idiot--Dostoyevsky

Anna Karenina--Tolstoy

Fatal Terrain--Brown

Dr. Zhivago--Pasternak

The Philosophy of Aristotle--hmmm...who could possibly have written this?

In Cold Blood--Capote

Invisible Man--Ellison



AND...last, but not least on the first two shelves of my bookcase...

Wobegon Boy, by Garrison Keillor

(which apparently makes for good bathroom reading...)

Tomorrow, the next two shelves!

LH

Well hello there, Mr. Maier!

In a very interesting sequence of events, the following happened:

• About 10 years ago, a pastor lent me her copy of Paul Maier's A Skeleton in God's Closet, which I began reading that night at 10 PM and finished at about 3:30 the next morning. Couldn't put the thing down.
• Since the book is about the importance of the resurrection (and is a good read to boot), I began making the reading of the book an annual Lenten discipline.
• I host a book club (Logos and Latte) at my church on the first Monday of each month, and back in the fall decided to name A Skeleton in God's Closet as the selection we'll be discussing on April 2. For reasons both selfish (I'd be reading it anyway) and in the interest of the congregation (we'd be discussing some really important Easter-type questions right before Easter).
• James Cameron decides to produce a special on some bits of half-assed research that airs on the Discovery Channel at the beginning of March, suggesting that the bones of Jesus may have been found...which is the basic premise of A Skeleton in God's Closet...which, incidentally, is a work of fiction written by the 2nd Vice-President of the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod, so you can be sure that it all comes out right in the end. Of the book. Not the James Cameron Discovery Channel special.
• Yesterday, on a whim, I decide to bring my copy of A Skeleton in God's Closet home from the office with me, since I have nothing going on at the church in the evening and think I might be able to do some reading.
• Still yesterday at about 9 PM I check my email and see a message from a cousin of Sweetie's, letting me know that Paul L. Maier, author of A Skeleton in God's Closet, will be giving a lecture on the portrayal of Jesus in pop culture at Concordia University, about 20 minutes from my house, at 10 AM the next day (today).
• At 9:05 PM I send an email to as many book club participants as I have addresses for, letting them know about the lecture too, but knowing that with about 13 hours advance notice, there's not much chance anyone will be able to come.
• This morning at 10:00 I'm sitting in the second row of the balcony in the auditorium where Paul Maier is lecturing, listening to a very interesting talk, and taking notes on a couple of items he mentions about both The DaVinci Code and Left Behind, two books the book club will be tackling over the summer (editor's note: book selection doesn't necessarily indicate agreement with the book. Particularly in "Left Behind's" case, I'm strongly suggesting folks either check it out from the library or buy it used, so as not to fill LaHaye and Jenkins' pockets with more money from the garbage they've written. And, I'm following up the next month with Barbara Rossing's "The Rapture Exposed" to help continue the de-programming process.)
• This morning at about 11:15 I walk up to Paul Maier, book in hand, to thank him for his talk and to ask if he'd autograph my copy of A Skeleton in God's Closet.

And that's how I ended up with the latest entry into my autographed book collection. (Way cool!)

LH