Word Problems

Review: "X-Men: The Last Stand"

2006-06-05T21:34:00.000-04:00

I never was any good at updating my journal, whether it was online or in my hand. So let’s just get right to it, okay?

The wife and I saw X3 last week. It was good. Entertaining. It wasn’t a better movie than the first two, by a fair margin, but it wasn’t the same kind of movie, either. The first two, directed by Bryan Singer (who left the franchise to work on another super-hero in Superman Returns), were action oriented, yes, but they were also darker, moodier character pieces about Wolverine and Rogue Hugh Jackman and Anna Paquin returning for the third installment) fitting in and finding their place in a world of outcasts. This latest episode was directed by Brett Ratner (Rush Hour), and lack of polish and subtlety is noticeable, replaced by a relentless plot and so many new characters that none of them really stand out except Wolverine and Storm (Halle Barry).

The plot goes something like this: One the west coast, the industrialist father of a young mutant discovers a cure for mutantism in the blood of another mutant, one whose ability is to negate the powers of other mutants. On the east coast, Jean Grey (Famke Jannsen) has risen from the lake where she was drowned in X2: X-Men United. And Magneto (Ian McKellan) is up to his old tricks to unite the mutants of the world to overthrow humanity.

In its own way, X3 is more true to the spirit of the X-Men comics on which it is based than the previous two installments. There are more characters here than allow any of them to get any real moment to shine, and Wolverine has stolen every scene near him, so this time no other character even tries to steal the attention from him. Primary characters in the previous installments are used as plot points this time, and new characters with whom we are meant to empathize mean nothing because we barely know more than we would if we read their baseball cards.

Even without Singer at the helm, X-Men: The Last Stand acts as a capstone to an X-Men trilogy. By the end of the film, three major characters have been permanently depowered from the cure, and three others are dead.

Of course, as they say in the comics, dead never means dead.

X-Men: The Last Stand isn’t as quality as the first two, but it succeeds at what it tries to be. It’s a fun, over-the-top popcorn movie that heralds the official start to the summer movie season.

Review: "His Majesty's Dragon," Naomi Novik

2006-05-15T12:59:00.000-04:00

His Majesty's Dragon is not a book I would normally pick up on my own. The reason I did was on the recommendation of a few different agents. Since I'm trying to get my own novel accepted, I've been scanning agents' blogs on a regular basis for the past several months, and picking up stories that the agents or other prominent authors recommend, the thinking being that if an agent liked it well enough to recommend even if she didn't represent the author, then it must be good. This is the second time I've found a book based solely on agent recommendation. Already Dead was the first.

Laurence is captain of an English during the early 1800s. Napoleon is in power in France, and basically every country in Europe is at war with one-another. Laurence's ship encounters a French Frigate returning home from China. After overcoming the ship, he discovers that the sole item of cargo is a large dragon egg that is about to hatch.

In this world, dragons are common enough that they are in nearly every part of the world and bred and raised by every nation in their war efforts. The trick, however is that they bond almost immediately to someone present at their hatching, and therefore, if they are to be used effectively, the riders--or aviators--need to be trained and prepared years before they're ever bonded to a dragon.

You see where I'm going with this. After Captain Laurence sacrifices his career in the navy to bond with the dragon, whom he names Temeraire, they are whisked off to Scotland where they both will be trained to fight for the crown.

The remainder of the book focuses on the pair's training, and the conflicts they both have fitting in with their new surroudings; Laurence's rigid naval training and worldview does not mesh with the Air Force's more relaxed standards, and Temeraire is different from any other dragon recognized by British experts.

Being a fan of "Age-of-sail" stories myself, I was expecting this to be a high adventure on the level of CS Forester. But it isn't. There are a handful of aerial battles, and the climactic battle over the English Channel is something to behold. However, the book isn't plot driven. The plot is truly negligible, as the real thrust of the book is the charm of the two main characters. It is, in fact, something of a love story. It could be an "A boy and his dragon" story. Captain Laurence's stiff formality is melted away by Temeraire's buoyant enthusiasm for new experiences and learning, and his eagerness to please his soulmate, Laurence.

While this is Novik's first novel and she doesn't appear to have any obvious degrees in history, she writes as an expert in the Napoleonic era. Her style is not the overstuffed flowery mush that so much fantasy is, but is simple and direct in its poetry.

Plus, Stephen King loved it, and this is not remotely a chiller.

I enjoyed it too. As I read it, I thought it was okay, but I didn't realize I would miss the characters as much as I do. It's a good thing the publisher is rushing out the first three books in the series in quick succession, so I can read The Jade Throne right now instead of waiting a year or more.

Words or Phrases That Are Funny On Their Own

2006-05-08T10:37:00.000-04:00

1. "Moist Towelette"

Review: Brokeback Mountain

2006-05-08T09:15:00.000-04:00

This past Saturday, Roger Ebert wrote the following in regard to Mission: Impossible III, explaining why a 2-hour action sequence can get boring:

There is a theory that action is exciting and dialogue is boring. My theory is
that variety is exciting and sameness is boring. Modern high-tech action
sequences are just the same damn thing over and over again: high-speed chases,
desperate gun battles, all possible modes of transportation, falls from high
places, deadly deadlines, exotic locations and characters who hardly ever say
anything interesting.

I find myself agreeing with this sentiment more and more every year. I don't know if my tastes are maturing or if I'm just becoming a fuddy-duddy, but movies like Mission: Impossible III don't interest me much anymore (not that the first M:I did any better).

But I would go one step further than Ebert to say that movie with an obvious agenda are boring as well. Movies that want to make some political statement, or that have something to prove beyond giving the audience a good story--that's boring, because you can predict the twists and arguments the movie is going to present to achieve its goals. And, that's frustrating, because many movies will present only their arguments, presenting anyone with an opposing argument as someone to be mocked and laughed at.

The wife finally convinced me to sit down an and watch Brokeback Mountain on Saturday. I really had no desire to see the film for a couple of reasons:
1. Ang Lee is a great director who injects visual poetry into his films, but sometimes he'll put it in movies where it doesn't belong (Hulk), or in films I don't think I would enjoy anyway (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon).
2. I figured the movie had an agenda. I had heard all the hype about the "Gay Cowboy" picture (and let's be honest, they may work as shepherds, but they are cowboys).

Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal portray two ranch hands who work one summer in 1963 as unsupervised shepherds alone on a mountain in 1963. During their time there, they fall into angry sex that blossoms into an affair. The remainder of the movie follows the two men over the next twenty years as they go their seperate ways, get married, have kids, and continue their affair with one another.

I was expecting this to be a movie with a PURPOSE: to show that homosexuals are persecuted unjustly, and that there would be small-minded rednecks as the villains. I was surprised and pleased to discover that neither were true. Brokeback Mountain is a character-intensive story about how the impusive actions can haunt someone for the rest of his life.

Heath Ledger gives the performance of his life as Ennis Del Mar, a shy, mumbling cowpoke who's engaged when the movie starts. He brings a quiet sobriety to the role, while giving Ennis a 'deer-in-the-headlights' expression through most of the movie. I can certainly see why he was nominated for Best Actor this year.

However, the only real problem I had with the movie was with his performance. Throuhout the movie, Ennis is about as emotive as a stump. But, only in the scenes on the mountain after both cowboys have acknowledged their love does Ennis seem anywhere near comfort in his own skin. In those scenes, he smiles easily, which is fine, but he also is far too 'touchy-feely.' It's a jarring contrast that disappears for the rest of the movie.

There is one other nitpick--Anne Hathaway (in another breakout performance) goes topless for a short scene, and that was disturbing. I'll admit that The Princess Diaries is one of my favorite guilty pleasures of the past 10years. Nobody should want to see Princess Mia's boobies. But, as I think about it, I wouldn't be surprised to hear that she went to 'Grandmere' Julie Andrews for counsel, and Andrews herself bared all for S.O.B.

Beyond that, Brokeback Mountain is a wonderful film. I doubt if I'll ever see it again, because it's too damn depressing. But I'm glad I had the opportunity to see it at all, and would say this is definitely a Must-See.

Indiana Jones and the Gospel of Judas

2006-05-05T10:20:00.000-04:00

I just finished reading National Geographic's account of their recovery of the Secret Gospel of Judas. It surprised me on a couple different levels. First, I wasn't expecting a first person narrative to be woven into the history of the document. The author, Andrew Cockburn, interspersed his interactions with the religious leaders he interviewed among the stories of the document's journey from it's discovery near the Nile River in Egypt, to it's theft and return around 1980, the attempts its various keepers have had in trying to sell it quietly for a profit, until it finally fell into the Society's hands.

Parts of it read like an adventure story.

The second thing that surprised me was how the writer (and, by association, National Geographic Society as a whole) acknowledged and accepted the existance of Jesus as a fact. In a magazine so devoted to pure scientific method and research, it's encouraging to find that such an august body silently acknowledges his existance, if not his deity.

Traveler

2006-05-04T09:02:00.000-04:00

So, I haven't finished the most recent issue of National Geogrphic Traveler, but I've finished most of it, and I've come to a realization:

I don't really enjoy it much anymore.

When I first started buying the magazine on a regular basis, it was because of all the first-person narratives and experiences in exotic places. They still have that, but more and more they seem to focus on the nuts and bolts of vacationing--hotels, airlines, how to pack.

And the lists. I am getting so tired of the lists. Both NG Traveler and NG Adventure have started running these ridiculous cover "articles" like "20 Things to Do in Denver Before You're Dead," "35 Trip You MUST Take This Summer." Basically, long lists of single paragraph blurbs outlining places in such vague detail as to render them useless.

But all is not lost. There were three feature articles in this issue and some smaller columns in the back that were first-person narratives. They engaged and inspired me.

I just don't know if they did enough of that to warrant the subscription.

“Well, if you could accuse anybody of being downright evil, it would be him.”

2006-05-03T11:25:00.000-04:00

Joe Dander shifted angrily in his seat. His wrists were chafing from the handcuffs. The other end of each pair were connected to either leg of the steel folding chair. If he was going to get out of the interrogation room, he’d either have to chew his hands off or take the chair with him. And at his age, with his back, Joe didn’t really feel like going anywhere. Seventy-six was too damn old to care about trying to make a daring escape.

So he waited. He had waited in interrogation rooms before, and he’d wait again. Probably. His chair faced the two-way glass, and Joe’s only options were to stare at the ceiling, stare at the ashtray on the table in front of him, or stare at his reflection.

He had counted 1,534 divots in the acoustic ceiling tiles before the detective returned.

Dectective John Bronwyn was a large, packed into a rumpled courdoury sport coat. He had a round, Buddha face under a graying military haircut, and smile lines etched at the corners of his eyes. He had a thick manilla file tucked under one arm with a steaming Styrofoam cup in his hand as he closed the door. He trundled to the chair on the opposite side of the table and scooted it to the corner—cops always moved the opposing chair so the psychologists behind the two-way mirror could pretend to get into the head of the accused better. All cops did that, except FBI agents, because the Feds were fucking morons—spun it around, and plopped down onto it.

“You are a crusty old bastard,” Bronwyn said with a smile. Ah, so Detective Bronwyn would be playing the role of “Good Cop” in today’s production. He wasn’t very good at it. He was breathing heavy just from the effort to sit down. Maybe Joe would be able to induce a heart attack in the guy. That would be fun.

Bronwyn set his coffee down and thumbed open the file. “Do you know you sent two officers to the hospital, old man?” Joe looked at the table. “You’ve got a fight left in you, I can appreciate that.” He took a sip from his coffee. “Tell me what happened the night of the twenty-ninth.”

“Well,” Joe started with a sigh, “After I fucked your mom, I rolled off her fat ass and did your ex-wife a couple of times.”

Bronwyn didn’t react for several seconds but his head seemed to swell under the comment. Then, as the steam was escaping through his ears, he chuckled. As he picked up his cup to take a sip, Joe noticed that his hand shook and when he sat it down, it was dented from the pressure of his grip. Good, Bronwyn was a lot closer to the edge than he appeared.

Bronwyn set the file on the table and concentrated on it, not making I contact with Joe. The bald spot on the top of his head mad an enticing target. “What can you tell me about what happened last week, on the evening of the twenty-ninth?”
Joe stared through his reflection in the two-way glass at the man he new was watching him from the other side. This was that bastard Piccolo’s fault. If you could accuse anyone of being downright evil, it would be him.

“Okay, I paid the twenty bucks. Now what do the cards say?”

2006-05-01T22:13:00.000-04:00

Karl was making his way through the busy foot traffic from his apartment to his office overlooking another office on a side street off of a real street in Manhattan. He normally enjoyed the morning crush. The press of bodies, the thousands of stories that he passed every day. New York was an exciting town. It was the very definition of cosmopolitan, and Karl had loved just about every moment he had spent there since graduation, even if he didn’t especially love his life.

Normally he enjoyed the walk to work. Today had been an exception. From the very beginning, when he slept through his alarm and he had been forced to take a cold shower because someone else in his building had used it all up, to the steamed heat that the city’s streets were already emitting, it was shaping up to be a spectacularly unpleasant day.

And then, in the distance, he saw Rose, power-walking his way in her silver-pinstriped Armani suit. Even at this distance, Karl recognized the way she moved. Her confidence, almost predatory, preceded her, slicing through the crowd so that New York citizens found themselves veering left or right with no real knowledge of why.

Rose was the third to the last person he wanted to see, right below his mother and Christopher Walken, who had creeped Karl out ever since Pulp Fiction. Since Rose was the last person alive who could look intimidating in wrap-around Ray-Bans and was arguing into her cell phone, she might not have seen him yet.

This block of Broadway hadn’t quite survived the makeover that Times Square had during Giuliani’s reign. While Karl could see the ads for new musicals in the distance, the businesses were of a different caliber right where Karl was. A fistful of cheap jewelry stores and pawnshops, a take-out place that specialized in “Korean/Jewish cuisine,” and a gay nightclub were the only places he could immediately see, and none of them had opened yet. He could risk ducking into an alleyway, but not even Karl was that dumb: the wrong element may stay away from the street during the morning rush, but if you took two steps off the sidewalk, you were in another world.

Karl crept forward with the rest of the crowd, hunching his shoulders so that Rose might possibly pass him by without recognizing him. Meanwhile his eyes darted to the right, looking for an opening in the row of businesses beside him.

He spotted a windowless, gun-metal door so narrow that it seemed to be wedged more between two other buildings than set into it’s own. Above it hung a wooden shingle with flaking paint: “Hotel Apollo,” it read. It didn’t look safe, but the risk of danger behind the door was secondary to the real hell he would be put through if Rose spotted him.

Tough choice.

New May Updates.

2006-05-01T21:28:00.000-04:00

I plan to be updating a lot more often in the coming days, as I try to kill two birds with one stone. On one hand, I'll be putting up excercises from The Writer's Book of Matches and other such writing exercise books. On the other hand, I've got a stack of National Geographic related magazines that's literally six months' worth of backlog. One of my New May resolutions is to read at least one article each day from at least one magazine that I subscribe to anyway.

Wish me luck.

"Not My Genre"

2006-04-24T09:20:00.000-04:00

I've got the book out, waiting to hear back from a few agents. But if I get negatives back from them, that'll be it for agents who represent fantasy authors. Carrie has been encouraging me to start submitting to agents who represent mystery as well, but I wasn't comfortable with the idea. I figured at best I'd be wasting my time, and at worst I could get put on some agent's blacklist.

So I called Miss Snark. If you have never read her blog, the anonymous but good hearted Miss Snark doles out advice to published and unpublished about the vagaries of the publishing industry.

I asked her if I should bother querying mystery agents, and here's how she
responded:
Query Kristin Nelson of course.
She does both, and sold a book
like that recently. She takes equeries so you’ll hear back pretty fast I
think.
Then query mystery agents.
Genre blending is the latest thing
(think Charley Huston’s latest just for example).
Go for it.

The problem, of course, being that I already queried Miss Nelson. Twice. It was purely by accident, but it was still due to my own poor record-keeping. I found her name after the first wave of querying, and I thought she was a good enough fit that I should query her as well. Then, I re-discovered her (oy) when I was going through my second wave of queries, and didn't realize the fact until I was filing her rejection the second time and came across her first rejection (double oy).

Haven't decided if I am going to query mystery-representing agents yet. But if I do, I am definitely going to do my homework beforehand to try to find agents that have a passing knowledge of fantasy. And I will definitely be certain that I haven't queried them before.

Review: Fantasyland

2006-04-23T17:59:00.000-04:00

Ever since I got married, I've been infected by the same baseball bug that has gotten to my wife's entire family. There were things that I had missed entirely, like the emergance of fantasy (or 'rotisserie') baseball. Some estimates say that there are hundreds of thousands who play in fantasy leagues each season, although others say that many of those leagues are played by the same people.

Fantasy baseball confuses and frustrates me. What's the point of rooting for the home team if you really need to have the opposing pitcher win the game for your fantasy team?

Sam Walker, a sports columnist for the Wall Street Journal (well, that's your first problem right there) takes a year off from his job with the intent of beating Tout Wars, one of the most exclusive and elite fantasy leagues in the United States. Open spots are taken by invitation only, and the majority of its players are professional fantasy players, in that they provide the stats and isue the dictums that the rest of the fantasy players use to choose their teams.

Even though the winner of the league gets nothing but bragging rights, Walker hires a team to help him in the draft, scouts the pre-season himself, and spends thousands of dollars traveling from game to game to interview players and managers to prove that any rank amateur with a press pass can beat the experts.

Does he do it? Well, of course I'm not going to tell you that. But I will say that Walker injected a fair amount suspense into what is essentially a memoir. But there are also belly laughs in every chapter as his assistants from opposite sides of scouting theory square off against each other, and he profiles the eccentric members of the Tout Wars.

Good book. Thoroughly enjoyed it. Recommend it for anyone with a passing interest in baseball. Mandatory reading for anyone involved in fantasy leagues.

Urban Fantasy

2006-04-12T10:41:00.000-04:00

Over at Kristin Nelson's blog, yesterday she posted a very short comment about what editors are looking for right now. At the top of the list is erotica. But just below that is urban fantasy.

And that's what I've been thinking about for the past 24 hours.

Carrie asked me to define what urban fantasy is, because, while she is a vorascious reader, she doesn't pay a whole lot of attention to genres, so she can't classify the subgenres.

Urban fantasy, in a nutshell, is just fantasy set in a contemporary setting. In fact, it would probably be more accurate to call it "contemporary fantasy" instead. However, "urban fantasy" is the name that stuck.

And even though urban fantasy is still a growing market, thanks to folks like Laurel Hamilton and Jim Butcher, there are already some standard characteristics and themes that seem to run through most urban fantasy stories, and even using "urban" over "contemporary" lends one to focus on some aspects of setting more closely than others.

There seem to be two major types of urban fantasy out right now: The first I'll call "Monster Hunters." These are the Anita Blakes and Dresdens of the literary world, where vampires and such are still hidden, and generally thought of as inherently evil, if misunderstood. This is where "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" goes as well. Sometimes these stories will have a secondary theme of these hidden societies trying to keep their secrets from the outside world.

The other type is what I call "My next door neighbor is a werewolf." These are stories where the fantasy creatures have "come out of the closet," so to speak. Human culture is generally the bad guy here, not understanding the vampires' plight. There are more newcomers like Kim Harrison (Dawn Cook's pseudonym) and Patricia Briggs fit in. (I shouldn't call them newcomers. They both have several books in more traditional fantasy under their belts)

Even though the genre is on an upswing, there are already tons of other urban fantasy novels, mostly in the vein (pardon the pun) of Anita Blake. There are elements of chick-lit in most of these books, sometimes even bordering on erotica. But either way, unless another twist is brought in soon, urban fantasy will implode the same way chick-lit has.

I think the only real way that the implosion can be avoided is by finding a story where the fantasy elements are inherent, but secondary to the story, and then figure out how to sell it to the agents and publishers in a neat little package.

The package, I've got. What I need now is the story.

With the continuing problems I've been having with the Dancing Cat story, I'm going to change my focus to coming up with an exciting urban fantasy story. I already have a couple strong concepts, if not ideas. If I can come up with something strong enough in the next couple of weeks, with any luck I'll be able to catch this wave and ride it out before it shallows out and hits the beach.

2006-04-10T20:59:00.000-04:00

The five-second rule does not apply to chewy granola bars that have fallen under the desk.

Thinking Aloud

2006-04-06T09:43:00.000-04:00

While writing the last post, I remembered something important. Something that I always forget and am always surprised that I've forgotten it when I remember:

I think better when I type.

I know everybody has had the experience when they're tackling a problem that's been frustrating them for awhile, but as soon as they vocalize the problem (sometimes as they're asking someone else for help), the answer suddenly materializes. It's happened to all of us.

For me, that happens when I sit down at the computer and type things out. Something shifts in my head and I can think more clearly while my fingers take notation straight from my head, freeing my subconscious to do all the heavy lifting.

At least, that's what I think happens.

As I wrote the previous post whining about my problems, a couple of possible solutions presented themselves to me. None of them may be the answer I'm searching for, but they're avenues to explore.

I have got to remember that.

Blackmail

2006-04-06T09:12:00.000-04:00

Yeah, it's been a long time since I last blogged. Carrie and I got back from New Zealand about a week and a half ago. During our time I read five different books that I'll be posting my opinions on in the next day or so. But that's not what I'm writing about.

We arrived back in town at 6:30 AM, and I was back at my desk at work by noon. But that's not what I'm writing about.

Spent the next several days recovering as much as possible from jet lag, then it was back to the grind of working on the house and trying to plot out a new novel.

That's what I'm writing about.

Carrie is absolutely convinced that I need to continue the Springer stories. And, to be honest, that was the plan. But the story is not growing as organically as I had hoped. Essentially, I've hit a road block with the vilain, which is what happened last time. In my first story, I had a decent plot (I think), but the villain was paper thin and undeveloped, and it ended up really muddling the story for a while.

This time I want to really nail the villain and his or her motivations down before I start, so I can know how they react to a particular stimulus if something unexpected comes up.

Herein lyeth the problem: due to the hero's reticent nature, he doesn't want to get involved in anything and has to be pulled into the larger conflict. That means that the villain has to attack someone he cares for before the hero will do anything about it. So I've been considering blackmailing one of the hero's friends.

However, I can't think of a reason why anyone would want to blackmail any of his friends. They're all a little too perfect I guess.

Regarding New Zealand

2006-03-11T14:29:00.000-05:00

We're a week into our three-week stay in New Zealand. So far, the most surprising thing about life here is how dissimilar it is to life in the states. New Zealand is actually a lot like south Florida. Just like in south Florida:

Have a different accent
Have different stores selling the same things
Drive on the other side of the road.

Simon is Right

2006-03-02T07:57:00.000-05:00

Yeah, I know, I know... I said I wasn't planning on posting anymore until at least another couple of days, after we got to New Zealand, if then. But there's something I have to get off my chest.

I blame my wife for this.

I never wanted to watch American Idol. I saw part of one episode back in the first season, and thought it was embarrassing. I have a hard time watching people humiliate themselves (that's part of the reason why it's so difficult watching Saturday Night Live anymore).

But one evening at the beginning of the year, Carrie asked if we could have one of the audition shows on in the background as we worked. While I still had a hard time stomaching some of the clips that were edited to truly humiliate the auditioners, I found myself really impressed by some of the performers, and rooting for them.

I had to tune in for the next episode, and both me and Carrie were hooked.

Now, I said all that to say this: I can't speak for earlier seasons, but we haven't missed an episode this season, and I think I've gotten a feel for how the show works and the interaction between the contestants, the host and the judges.

And I've discovered that I agree with Simon 90% of the time.

Randy Jackson and Paula Abdul root for their favorites and tend to gloss over the rough spots in their performances. Simon just doesn't care. If Simon thinks you sucked, he'll respect you enough to tell you to your face. If a contestant chooses a fun, upbeat song that gets the audience on their feet, but doesn't do the song justice, he'll by God tell you. I can appreciate that. I know that, for myself, I would much rather have an unvarnished opinion than someone who's afraid of hurting my feelings.

Nothing new to report...

2006-02-28T12:44:00.000-05:00

Got a couple more rejections in the mail yesterday. Nothing personal, nothing signed. Oh well.

The two agents who have the manuscript are still reviewing it. At this point I would be very surprised if I heard back from either one before we leave on Friday.

We're mostly packed up now and preparing ourselves mentally for the trip. I've been thinking about the trip a lot lately, trying to figure out how I want to deal with the Internet situation. There's part of me who wants to log on regularly every night to upload new photos and journal about the event. Then, the other part of me is screaming to stay away from any and all computers for the duration. I spend way too much time--that would be better spent writing--online cruising the message boards.

I can't remember which agent's blog, either Kristin Nelson or Miss Snark, said this, but one of them mentioned that you probably can't live off your writing until you have at least five books in print and earning royalties at the same time.

I keep telling myself that I will do a lot of journaling in New Zealand and promise myself that I will start writing 1,000 words a day as soon as we return. In the meantime, I do have a couple different ideas percolating. Carrie's been thinking about starting her YA series about her days in boarding school, and that's gotten me thinking about my unstarted YA novel about my own glory days in the drama club. I'm toying with the idea of setting it in the same small town as Carrie's story.

It really coalesced last week when a title finally popped into my head. "Exit, Stage Left." If this were to be a continuing series, I could name each book after a different stage direction. That's when I personally get hooked on a story, and I know that eventually I'll get it down on paper. For me, when I come up with a title, it somehow makes it real to me. Suddenly this unnamed project has an identity and character all its own.

I've rambled. The other idea is what would happen if a guy in the witness protection program for years and years had a son who became a stand-out star in college football. At first I envisioned it as a serious thriller, but then Carrie suggested the mob wouldn't fare well against the OSU Booster mafia, and all of a sudden I've got visions of Carl Hiaasen's books dancing in my heads. Thrillers--for that is what Hiaasen writes-- with a comedic touch are some of my favorite books.

Regardless, now I've got those two story ideas percolating plus the second Springer book vying for attention in my head. I've got to start putting some ideas down on paper soon, but I just don't know if I'll have time before we leave on Friday. I've packed three or four books for the flights down and back, but I have a feeling I'm going to be doing a LOT of freewriting on the plane.

I doubt I'll have anything new to report before we leave, so either I'll post again in a couple of days, or my next post won't be until I return. Regardless, I'm sure I'll have a lot to talk about by then.

REVIEW: Serenity

2006-02-22T11:13:00.000-05:00

Note to Self: Don't buy any more pay-per-view movies until they start airing them in HD Widescreen.

Finally saw Serenity the other day. Never got around to it at the theatres (see also, Rent), so after the wife went to bed, I ordered it off of pay-per-view.

Ignoring for a moment the fact that I loathe with an unbridled passion movies cropped for the full screen (Note to Self: Don't buy any more pay-per-view movies until they start airing them in HD Widescreen), I was really disappointed in Serenity. Maybe that's because I got my hopes up, but I literally dosed off somewhere in the middle. That's how bored I was.

My main problem with Serenity was the same one I had with the first few Harry Potter movie adaptions: It assumes the audience was familiar with the story from the TV series (or, in Harry Potter's case, the original books). To fully enjoy Serenity, you have to have watched and enjoyed Firefly.

I enjoyed the few episodes of "Firefly" that I saw, but I got the feeling that this storyline would have been better suited to that format.

REVIEW: Writer's Book of Matches

2006-02-22T10:40:00.000-05:00

I saw this book a couple of months ago, but I haven't had the chance to pick it up until yesterday.

In a nutshell (pardon the pun--the book was written by the editors of the startup literary journal, "Fresh Boiled Peanuts"), The Writer's Book of Matches is just a collection of writer's prompts: simple one- or two-sentence ideas meant to prime the creative pump of the writer. Over a thousand, actually. According to the introduction, there are enough prompts to do one a day every day for over three years.

I could make excuses about why I don't write every day. I could talk about how remodeling the house is a full-time job unto itself, or that I've been spending a lot of time recently nailing things down for our trip in a couple of weeks. But the fact of the matter is that I have difficulty putting my butt in the chair and words on the page. Hopefully the prompts in this book will help me deal with that. In fact, I've considered starting another blog for the prompts: one a day, with exactly 1,000 words. No more, no less; just to see what I could do.

And it references the administrator of Absolute Write, my new favorite writer's place on the web, Jenna Glatzer. I'll have to toddle over there and see what AWers think of the book.

Another One for the Pile...

2006-02-22T10:36:00.000-05:00

I got another rejection in the mail yesterday. A polite form rejection with a handwritten signature. It's a different feeling now that I have two agencies looking at the full manuscript. Doesn't affect me as much.

On the other hand, if I don't hear back from either agency before I leave for New Zealand at the beginning of next month, I may have to hurt someone.

Uh... help?

2006-02-16T22:41:00.000-05:00

Little update on that last post:

One of the "other two" agents I mentioned in the previous post? I e-mailed him about the first agency wanting the manuscript, and now he wants it, too.

Oy.

Carrie said the only thing to do is let Blankety Blank Agency know that this other agency also has it and hope for the best.

Yay me...

2006-02-16T20:38:00.000-05:00

Got this in the ol' e-mail today:

Dear Wesley;

I read your query with interest and would like to review your work. Please send a synopsis and complete manuscript to the address listed below.

Thank you for submitting to the Blankety Blank Agency

A request from an agent to look at the entire manuscript of Unlicensed Magic.

I guess I should be more excited about it than I am. I am excited, but when it comes to stuff like this, I tend to get overly cautious about the next step because the only other option is total and complete panic. And that wouldn't be great for business either. So the next steps are as follows:

Put together the submission package for Blankety Blank.
Notify the two agencies that requested partials that there is a third party who is reviewing the entire thing.

Ironically, I'll first have to remind the two other agencies who I am. One has had a partial since last August, and the other has had it literally since November 2004. Which got me to thinking: How devious would it be to bypass the query stage and submit your partial or full manuscript as a follow-up? "As you requested, here are the first 5 chapters of 'Reagan Goes Commando.' Please let me know what you think, and I hope to hear from you soon." Or, "At your request, I sent you the full manuscript of 'Brokeback Leather Chair' four months ago. Please let me know the status of the manuscript." One one hand, you would think that literary agents would keep better records than that.

On the other hand, Kristin Nelson, over at her blog, just said she went through 150 queries while watching the Olympics Friday night, with 700 electronic queries waiting in her e-mail.

If I didn't risk having every literary agent in the US ticked at me, I might even try it.

...someone asked for a full manuscript...

yay me!

Threshold

2006-02-16T10:19:00.000-05:00

As I get older, I continue to notice my reading tastes changing. When I was a teenager, I was all about the fantasy and super-heroes. I'm still into that, but now I think I actually enjoy the mysteries, crime novels and thrillers more.

But, more importantly, I've recently come to an epiphany: regardless of which genre, the time I spend the first time I crack open a book really defines how much I'm going to enjoy it, or even if I'm going to finish it. With ever more limited amounts of time to devote to pleasure reading, I find myself putting down more and more books without finishing them. But if I am able to dedicate two hours or more, I am much more easily able to be drawn in by the characters and the plot, the style and pace, and thusly much more likely to enjoy and finish the book.

This bears further investigation. I'm going to try and see if I can dedicate two hours--not at bedtime--to read the next several books I try, and see if it makes any difference.

REVIEW: "Already Dead," Charlie Huston

2006-02-16T08:43:00.000-05:00

I'm something of a slow reader. It's not often that I can read a full novel in a day. I generally have neither the time nor the inclination. I'm a notorious bibliophile--meaning I buy (or, since my marriage, borrow from the library) books I never get around to reading. But a couple of days ago, I was sick enough to stay home and recuperated enough to want to stay awake. So I pulled one of the five borrowed novels I have laying on my desk, crawled back upstairs to bed and settled in.

Vampyre clans have sliced up control of the island of Manhattan into territories and have settled into an uneasy detente. The wealthy corporate types of business sector, the militants and hippies in the village, the new-agers on the west side, etc. Joe Pitt is a rogue: not belonging to any clan but affiliated with several and desired by many. He's not a detective by trade, but a "fixit guy," much like Repairman Jack in F. Paul Wilson's series. He "takes care of things" for people. Often he's "taking care of business" for one clan in another clan's territory. He's doing this very thing, tracking zombies in Alphabet City, when he gets called in by one of the clans and asked to perform a favor he cannot refuse. A non-Vampyre teenage girl has run away from home, and Joe has to track her down. In his investigation, he discovers that this girl and her family have much closer ties to both the Vampyres and the zombies than he imagined.

Huston has created an interesting world in which vampires and zombies "live," stripping away some of the basic mythology and replacing it with pseudo-science that at least sounds like it makes sense on the first reading. His style is suitably noirish while also appealing to the literary crowd. His prose is tight, taut and... decently paced. While the plot moved along pretty briskly, there were moments where the suspense stopped and he had to explain how things worked in his world. And the denoument of the story was sixty pages, which is easily fifty-five more than is ever needed in a thriller, and seemed to exist only to page Huston's thin page count.

The book was entertaining enough, as pulpish as it was. But there wasn't anything particularly new or original. Elements of this book that may be cutting edge in mystery or crime writing are standard in fantasy, even cliche. There's even a name for the sub-genre: urban fantasy. Huston isn't doing anything that Simon Green, Laurel K. Hamilton or Jim Butcher haven't already done to great success. They just get shelved on the other side of the store.

Why is Figure Skating an Olympic Sport?

2006-02-15T10:48:00.000-05:00

Don't mean to get off on a rant here, but I just don't understand what the big deal is about figure skating as an olympic sport. Don't get me wrong, because I don't think that skaters aren't atheletes, and what they do obviously takes a great deal of training, talent and skill. I just don't believe that any competition that requires a grown man to dress in a backless bodysuit and is soundracked by Ace of Base should be considered a sport. They're not being judged on their costumes, are they? They're not being judged on the music, are they? They're being judged on the accuracy of the moves that they are being required to do. Can they do the triple lutz or can't they? And how fast and in what succession?

Never mind the fact that any "sport" that needs judges to value your performance is a crock to begin with. If it can't be quantative--how far, how fast, how powerful--it shouldn't count. Things like figure skating, half-pipe, diving, etc., should move to the side and make way for real sports.

Like that thing with the brooms.

A Rejection, but Still...

2006-02-11T23:51:00.000-05:00

Got another rejection for my manuscript today. This one from Rachel Vater at Lowenstein-Yost Associates, Inc.

Ms. Vater was one of the agents that I thought I might have a shot with this time around. So, on one hand, it sucks. On the other hand, she did scribble down a note a the top of the form rejection:

Intriguing ideas here, but not quite right for me. Best of luck w/it.

No, it isn't much, but it's more than I've gotten from any other rejection so far.

2006-02-07T14:45:00.000-05:00

I work downtown. Sometimes, at 10 AM, the church across the street begins tolling their bell for 15 minutes.

When I first started hearing them, I didn't know what they were for, but I soon learned that the church tolls its bell for the passing of the dead of important people (like Ronald Reagan), disasters (9/11--that was especially poignant because all the downtown churches tolled one time for every person dead or unrecovered from the attack... the tolling lasted all day), and executed convicts.

Today it was for a man convicted for raping and killing two women 20 years ago in Akron. It takes me about five minutes before I even noticed the tolling anymore.

Man Who Raped, Killed 2 Women To Be Executed

Darn Good Barbeque

2006-02-06T09:29:00.000-05:00

If you ever find yourself in central Ohio, do yourself a favor and check out City Barbeque, the best chicken in town.

Superbowl XL: The "X" is for "X-tra Mediocre!"

2006-02-06T08:43:00.000-05:00

I just glanced at my post from last year's Superbowl, and I would have to say that this year's was even less exciting. And that's too bad, because so many of the playoff games were great this year.

Both of the teams got to the Big Game through their defense, and I was expecting Pittsburgh to do pretty much what they did: Get ahead by a touchdown and then sit on the clock. What I was not expecting was the Seahawks playing as poorly as they did. Even with the poor officiating, the Seahawks SHOULD have won that game. That they didn't, especially after the awful play by the Steelers in the first half, just shows you that any team can win on any given Sunday.

The commercials were just as forgettable. As the hype over the commercials has surpassed the hype of the game itself, the quality in the ads seems to have dropped. The only ones that stood out at all were the Budweiser/Bud Light commercials. Nobody else even tried. I mean, Pepsi... P. Diddy? Seriously?

Opening ceremonies for the Winter Olympics are just a few days away. Hopefully that will be interesting.

REVIEW: Midshipwizard Halcyon Blithe

2006-02-05T16:59:00.000-05:00

We haven't heard from James M. Ward in quite a while. He was responsible for several successful Dungeons & Dragons tie-in novels based on computer games, and he's done a few other things, but to the best of my knowledge, this is his first non-licensed fantasy novel.

Set in an environment remarkably like the Horatio Horblower series with the addition of magic, Halcyon Blithe is a young man on his first tour of duty with the Arcanian navy. He meets characters that are right out of the catalog, and there really is not plot as much as a series of short adventures culminating in a novella at the end. It really isn't a well-constructed book.

And yet I enjoyed it. Ward's style is light and reads easily. There isn't much to think about, because this is a textbook light fantasy. I think the main failing in the book isn't in the writing but in the marketing. If this were marketed for Young Adults instead of older fantasy fans who like their fantasies epic and abounding with purple prose, it would be making a much bigger impact on the market than it has so far.

Even so, Midshipwizard Halcyon Blithe is a fun little fantasy adventure, and I look forward to reading more if this book is followed up.

On Form Rejections

2006-02-03T16:45:00.000-05:00

Over at the inimitable Miss Snark's blog, I was surprised to find out that agents don't generally send out comments or reasons for rejecting a manuscript after requesting on. I already knew that agents are under no obligation to let the writer know at that point, but I assumed that they would out of courtesy. After all, at that point the agent and author have been corresponding for several months, and the agent probably has an exclusive on the manuscript. I don't mean to sound self-righteous, but if an agent had my novel for a month or more, especially if other agents had expressed interest, I think I'd be owed an explanation.

Not that I have any recourse.

I've received three rejections in this round of submitting as of last night. Two were impersonal forms addressed to "Author." One of those didn't even mention the name of the specific agent I submitted to, but just the agency. And the third wasn't even that formal: They simply returned my query in the SASE and slipped in a 1x2" slip of paper that read "This does not suit our interests at this time." Not the most encouraging of rejections, I'll admit. But at least they responded. There are agencies that don't.

Marvel Adventures Flip Magazine

2006-02-02T11:58:00.000-05:00

I had a chance to read the latest Marvel Adventures Flip Magazine (and what a mouthful of a title that is) last night. The two stories included in this issue weren't the greatest, but they were still fun. The Fantastic Four get taken on a joy ride by Lockjaw of the Eternals and Spider-Man gets tailed by Scorpion. (Like the pun? I made it up all by myself.)

These are light adventures, with no real sense of danger for either the FF or Spidey, but they're fun little amusements. Manuel Garcia's art for the FF is amazing, and it's sad that the Marvel Adventures line has been so ghetto-ized, because his talent is worthy of greater recognition (although, for some reason, the uniforms of the FF are much closer to the Ultimate FF or the movies than the current "official" look for the team)

The "Adventures" lines for both Marvel and DC are a sore spot for me. Ever since Batman Adventures first arrived in the early 90s as a companion to the Batman animated show, some of the most solid, entertaining and accurate portrayals of the iconic heroes have been through these imprints. However, because they're "kiddie" titles, nobody over the age of 10 seems to pay attention to them. Hopefully these titles are getting better distribution through the more "family friendly" venues of convenience stores, drugstores and the like.

We're not interested, but how 'bout you help us instead?

2006-02-02T08:10:00.000-05:00

Because of the trip the wife and I are taking to New Zealand next month, I sent out a couple of queries to some travel magazines and locally to the Dispatch. The Travel Editor responded within days by phone, which was nice. She said they weren't interested in freelance travel work, but would like to keep my name and number on file because they'd like to interview me for an article on volunteer vacations.

Now, there's obviously now way to tell if she was telling the truth about already planning an article, but regardless, I don't know if I should feel insulted or not. On one hand, it is a form of publicity, and I'm being used as a resource. On the other hand, I'm not getting paid.

On a related note, if the Dispatch does interview me, it'll be the third time since Carrie and I have gotten married that I've been in local media since we got married.

I Can't Watch the State of the Union

2006-02-01T10:57:00.000-05:00

Last night Carrie and I had a meeting at our church, but even if we didn't, I wouldn't have watched President Bush's State of the Union address. It's not that I'm unpatriotic or even ambivilent. I'm very interested in the what Bush has to say about the country.

It's the applause. It gets to me.

Regardless of the President, his party will stop to interrupt his speech at least once every couple of minutes with applause for finishing a sentence. Doesn't matter what he's saying. He could be describing the new budget or the contents of his shorts, his party will stand and cheer.

I don't know when it started, but I first noticed it with Clinton, cheering for anything and everything that came out of his mouth. I thought the Democrats were bad with him, but the Republicans are even worse. "My fellow Amuricans, before I got here tonight, I sneezed into my hankie. What came out looked like a sad clown. Wanna see?"

Oh, how I would dearly love for the next POTUS to stand up there and say, "Please hold your applause until the end of the speech," and actually hold the gallery to it. As it is, the applause makes a boring 30 minute speech into an irritating 90 minute speech.

Maybe if the President had visual aids. Powerpoint, a little CGI... something! "Unemployment is at a 30 year low, as you can see by the card held by my lovely assistant Bambi."

When I read the speech this afternoon, I think I'll take a bathroom break after every other paragraph. After all, that's what I do when it's on TV.

Here We Go Again

2006-01-31T22:30:00.000-05:00

I don't expect anyone to be reading this just yet, but I needed to put it out there.

I'm rededicating this blog, and renaming it as well. This blog was called "Wes-Colored Glasses." Going forward, it shall forever more be known as "Word Problems." My focus will be on my struggles to get my novel, short stories, or anything else published.

Oh, I'll be keeping all the other stuff about home life and reviews on whatever I'm reading at the moment, but my main focus will be on my writing life.

At least, that's my hope. Who knows what I'm thinking from minute to minute?

See, this blogs real purpose to to help me to establish my branding. I've been checking out J. A. Konrath's blog on the trials and tribulations of being a published writer, and a major portion of it deals with branding yourself--promoting yourself, getting your name out there.

So, as the days and weeks go on, my hope is that somebody is reading this, and enjoying it, and they'll point their friends here, and people will get to know who I am.

This is where I am, and this is where I'm going. Hope you enjoy the ride.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

2005-11-23T13:32:00.000-05:00

November 23. The day before Thanksgiving. Cold wind blew in from the north and now the first snow of the year is sticking to the ground.

I don't mind the snow so much. It's expected, but around here the first big snow always means the same thing: The city government is never prepared for it, so traffic is nuts.

Add to that the fact that this is the day before Thanksgiving, where I-71 is a parking lot for 20 miles north of Porlaris, and you've got some seriously pissed off dads driving cars today and tomorrow.

Hopefully things will clear up tomorrow, but I'm not betting on it. I'm just happy I don't have to go home immediately. Carrie and I are actually heading south to my parents house for dinner tonight. On one hand the traffic should be substantially lighter. On the other hand, the snow may be considerably deeper, and accidents more commmon.

We shall see. We shall see.

Is It Really the Weather?

2005-11-18T12:44:00.000-05:00

After my meeting with Maison the other day, I was in panic mode. I was depressed, despondent, paranoid. I wanted to curl up and cry. I stayed up until 3:30 this morning working on lyric-blocking so Maison could work on setting light cues this weekend.

But I'm not tired. I'm in a decent mood. Nothing really has changed, except for the fact that I woke up to sunshine this morning and the past several days have been dreary and darkly overcast all day.

I've known--or I guess I should say "I've assumed," since I don't have any emprical evidence backing me up--that gray weather affects my mood more extremely than it does most people. But to see it swing so far in less than 12 hours with no real change in circumstance other than the (semi-)completion of one project is surprising even to me. After just three hours of sleep, I'm in a pretty decent mood. Getting a little tired and yawny at this point, but that's to be expected.

But I'm not DEPRESSED. I'm not especially anxious or panicky.

The only thing I can presume is that God is taking the anxiety away from me. Because, honestly, there's no reason for me to NOT be anxious right now. I'm going to be getting a call from Maison later on today telling me that what I submitted to him is totally unacceptable, and I'll have to spend another twelve hours working on something new.

And I'm okay with that. I've given this anxiety back to God, and He's accepted it. I know others are praying for me, and that God will "Bless this mess."

Now I just have to get my hanging angels on board, fix the crucifixion and resurrection, and I'll be golden.

I Corinthians 15:58

2005-11-17T08:46:00.000-05:00

... be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your labor is not in vain in the Lord.
The day after the meeting with Maison, and I'm still shaking. I'm panicking. I'm getting paranoid. I realize that I'm panicking and getting paranoid, and yet I'm unable to do anything to change that right now.

I need to give this over to God, this anxiety I now find myself in. I need to let him remind me that I'm not controlling this one, nor should I be. This needs to be where I stop and God takes over. Like Steve says, "Let go, and let God."

But, it'll be difficult. Realizing how much confusion there is going to be over the next couple of weeks. Long nights, crankiness and anger. The added rehearsals. The fact that we're still missing hanging angels. This all weighs heavily on my heart. I can give it up, but then I think about it again and my heart climbs into my throat. So, I guess I'll just have to give it up again. And keep doing that until I can let it go and stop worrying about it.

I guess.

Sky High

2005-11-13T16:48:00.001-05:00

Will Stronghold, teenage son of the two most popular and powerful super-heroes on Earth, is welcomed to a floating high school for the sons and daughters of heroes on Earth. During orientation at Sky High, every incoming freshman is asked to demonstrate his or her power (everybody only gets one--this is important), and is immediately classified into one of two tracks--hero or sidekick. That's how class divisions are created: instead of jocks and nerds, we have heroes and sidekicks, who have lame powers like the ability to melt or turn into guinea pigs.With a concept like this, Sky High could have been a biting satire on high school. But, it is made under the Disney banner, so it is nothing more than well-intentioned fluff. But, as far as Disney movies go, this average but still very entertaining. I can see this becoming something of a cult hit for the pre-teen crowd on DVD this Christmas.

Zathura

2005-11-13T16:48:00.000-05:00

Last week Carrie and I were able to take part in a special screening of Zathura, mostly because the theatre in question is under fire from increased competition with a different theatre a few miles away in a larger shopping area.

This is a film I had wanted to see for some time, partly because it's directed by one of my favorite performers, Jon Favreau, but mostly because I wanted to see how it compared to Jumanji, which was released ten years ago.

In a nutshell, I think Jumanji is a noteably better movie, not just because of the presence of Robin Williams, Bonnie Hunt, Kirsten Dunst and David Alan Grier, but because the script is just more engaging. Both movies are based on books by Chris Van Allsburg, and Zathura the book actually mentions Jumanji in it.

In Zathura, Jonah Bobo and Josh Hutcherson play young brothers who, with their teen sister, are staying with their divorced father in a creaky old house one weekend. While the father is away on business, they find an old, outer space-themed, tin wind-up game called Zathura. As they play the game, they discover that their home has been transported into outer space itself, complete with meteor showers, renegade robots, lost astronauts and evil aliens that eat on human flesh.

Even though I enjoyed the movie, there was something about it that bugged me, and it wasn't until I read Roger Ebert's review that it hit me: There is never any real sense of danger here. I never felt that there was a possibility that they might not get home, or that anything might happen to them. In addition, I really just didn't care that much for the characters in the same way that I did in Jumanji.

Ultimately, this movie since this movie is opening a week before Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, it will probably tank at the box office, and that is too bad, because it is a decent movie, and entertaining enough. But the audience it is aiming for will all be going to see Goblet of Fire instead.

The 40 Year-Old Virgin

2005-11-13T16:38:00.000-05:00

Steve Carrell is a lot more talented than you think he is.

He's stolen movies from Jim Carrey and Will Ferrell, and now he gets his chance to shine in a movie he co-wrote and produced, The 40 Year-Old Virgin.

Andy is a nice guy with a safe job at an electronics store, who lives quietly with his hobbies.

Oh, yeah, and he's never had sex.

Once his friends at the electronics store find out, they make it their job to get him laid. However, they're really more of a messed up Greek chorus, watching Andy but giving all the wrong advice. All they're really doing is living vicariously through him.

Something peculiar about the movie is that much of the action and comedy going on doesn't even really involve Andy as other characters have short scenes to shine in the electronics store, and minor characters intereact with one another and have more distinct voices than you would normally see in this kind of movie. I have to wonder if this was originally pitched as a sitcom, because that's how it feels at times.

Either way, this was well worth the money, and I have the feeling it will do very well on DVD.

LCT Blues

2005-11-13T08:36:00.000-05:00

This past Sunday, I attended a meeting of the LCT Directors. That's capitalized because it wasn't just the directors of certain scenes or songs, but people like Rick Barlow and Randy Kettering, directors of paticular ministries within LCT.

Let's step back. Way back in September, I had Lisa reserve the sanctuary for my rehearsals from 1PM - 7PM most every Sunday because of the number of songs we're doing this year and the limited number of Sundays we have with which to do them. Those days were reserved, they were mine.

Now, I find out two weeks ago that Randy, having not reserved the room at all, told the choir and orchestra that they would be rehearsing there for two hours this week and next, 3-5PM. Obviously, we can't both be in there, and before the meeting, if you had asked me I would have told you that there was no way that he was going to take my slots.

When that time came, however, I changed my mind. I could rationalize it and say that I remembered that the cast aren't the only ones who need to rehearse, and Randy's team doesn't deserve to suffer for his error, or that I simply felt the need to share with everyone for the best. But the fact of the matter was I chickened out. WHen push came to shove, I folded like a house of cards in the face of the Director of Music and Media Ministries.

And last night we got the first of the backlash, as someone kept Carrie on the phone complaining for ten minutes about the changes and how they are being affected by them.

Now, while I do believe the things above, about the need to make a compromise so everyone can get their time in the sanctuary, I am not looking forward to today, where I'm afraid Carrie and I will be accosted by everyone who's being put out by these changes. I'm more concerned about Carrie than myself, because women naturally tend to drift to her, and they will complain more about the changes. Guys come to me, and they generally just want clarification, not the need to vent. Women complain and whine, and Carrie doesn't handle stuff like that well. So, I'm going to ask Carrie to defer all questions she gets to me, and hopefully they'll accept the answers I give them.

Yay for Days Off!

2005-11-11T08:03:00.000-05:00

I have today off. And by "off" I mean I only have two appointments, a meeting and a handful of chores to do before it gets dark tonight.

1. Vist with the urologist up at Grady Memorial Hospital, to figure out why I'm bleeding, and what it may mean.

2. Meeting with Stacy Householder and Liz Gates about costuming for Jesus during LCT.

3. Appointment with Dr. Blank to have my teeth cleaned

4. Fix the lawn tractor's tire so we can use it tomorrow (this one, out of all of them, I am looking the least forward to because it's cold out there today and this will take longer than I think it will).

The upside is that Carrie is spending time with the girls tonight, so I will, eventually, have some time to myself this afternoon and evening, where I can either write a little bit, or read if I want to. I'm also thinking about heading down to the bargain theatre sometime today and checking out The 40 Year Old Virgin or Serenity. Perhaps both.

Avoiding Work

2005-11-09T20:14:00.000-05:00

I'm home, supposedly working on stuff for LCT. But really I'm poking around the internet, eating more ice cream than I'm supposed to and listening to old TV themes like Sanford & Son.

I'm really beginning to hate Christmas and LCT. And I hadn't enjoyed LCT for a while before I took this on. I've got three songs to map out, and I've basically got tonight to do it. I'm not especially worried, as all three are very simple, but I'm reticent to actually buckle down and get the work done.

I recognize that I'm sabotaging myself, but I'm unwilling to do anything about it.

Proof that I have officially left the major demographic:

2005-11-09T10:56:00.000-05:00

My wife and I stopped by Wendy's the other day, and the kid at the drive-thru window had both cheeks and the back of his neck pierced.

His neck!

I can't even begin to understand that one. Other piercings, where you can see them in the mirror, I may not always like, but I can understand--but the neck?!?

What am I missing?

Batman: Under the Hood

2005-11-07T16:50:00.000-05:00

Writer: Judd WinnickArtist: Doug MahnkePublisher: DC ComicsThis story arc and the resulting TPB supposedly re-introduces two unused characters to the Batman corner of the DC universe: The Red Hood a previous identity of the Joker, and Jason Todd, more commonly known as Robin II. Roman Sidonis, The Black Mask, has recently clawed his way to become the underworld kingpin in Gotham. But there is a new player on the scene, the Red Hood. At first, it seems the Hood is simply trying to carve out a small piece of Black Mask's territory, but then he sets his sites higher, highjacking 100 pounds of kryptonite Black Mask is trafficking, and wiping out much of the street muscle with lethal force.Meanwhile, Batman, still reeling from losing another Robin, Stephanie Brown, has pushed the rest of his 'soldiers' out of Gotham, allowing only a young woman, Onyx to work in 'his' city. A third Robin, the original--now Nightwing--attempts to dig deeper into Batman's issues by joining him on patrol, but is ineffective in changing Batman's mood. When Batman crosses the Red Hood, Batman immediately recognizes something about his fighting style that reminds him of Jason Todd, and he begins to investigate the possibility that Todd might still be alive.I enjoyed this more than I thought I would. I have not been a huge fan of Winnick's work for DC. He tends to hang onto pet concepts and themes after their usefulness--Onyx is a secondary character from Winnick's Green Arrow, for example. And, while, whether this new Red Hood is still under speculation, Winnick has created a character and new situation in Gotham that really piques my interest.Mahnke's artwork is serviceable but not spectacular. Since I hadn't read these stories in monthly format, my only exposure to the look of the Red Hood was through Matt Wagner's covers, where the Red Hood's mask does not have any features. Inside, however, Mahnke puts two whited eye-holes for the mask, which I found took a lot of the visual appeal of the character away.

Super Un-size Me

2005-11-07T14:29:00.000-05:00

Dr. Gnade said I had to lose weight. He didn't specify how much, just 'a lot.'

Carrie wants to put me on a diet. This one may work out a little better than the others have because I have to do it for myself, not just to make her happy (not that making her happy isn't of a primary importance to me... ).

So, over the past week I've been thinking about diets and dieting and proper exercise, and I've come up with a couple ideas that may be able to help.

First things first, cut out fast food junk altogether. That means if I have to eat at McDonald's or Burger King or Wendy's, avoid the burgers and fries at all costs. They now offer plenty of salads or other alternatives. So I can go to places like Subway or Quiznos or even Taco Bell as long as I don't get soft drinks. They are right out.

If/when I do find myself staring at a value meal, make sure it's the smallest one there. That means no 'Biggie', 'Super' or 'King' size meals. Small size, hello and thank you very much. Petite size. Wee size.

And here's an idea--starting tomorrow, take the stairs. I work on the seventh floor. I'm only 35. I SHOULD be able to make that trip once or twice a day without much effort. Since I haven't been to the gym in months (which is the next step), this will do in a pinch--just walk the seven flights instead of hitting the elevator.

And, of course, when I get home tonight, I'll pack my workout clothes up and hit the gym tomorrow. Just to get on the treadmill for a half-hour and sit in the sauna for an extra fifteen minutes should do wonders for me.

The problem there is getting to bed ON TIME. I have enough trouble getting to sleep as it is, especially if I snack late in the evening. I had that problem last night. Carrie went to bed at 9, and I had some potato chips. And then I had a bowl of ice cream. Then, with all that salt and sugar coarsing through my syste, SURPISE! I had trouble getting to sleep, thus had difficulty waking up, and getting a start on the day.

THEREFORE, no more snacking after 10 PM. Period.

AND... here's the big one... WATER. LOTS of water. PLENTY of water. Verging on OVERHYDRATION of water. Basically, drink 16-20 ounces of water BEFORE every meal, and BEFORE I start snacking on anything. This way, I'm well on the way to getting a full stomach to begin with, and any food I eat will be digested that much faster.

A lot of the above is based on willpower, but the water thing is more of a discipline issue. I have trouble with willpower, but discipline is easier for me. The last semi-successful diet (because I did lose a lot of weight, and kept it off for a while before eventually gaining it back) I was on was pretty simple: The only snack I allowed myself was microwavable popcorn. That was it. Nothing else really special, I just cut out any other kinds of snacks/desserts.

I think if I can drink a big glass of water before every meal or snack, and make that a healthy habit, I will be well on the way to getting a lot of this midsection off. If I can learn to stop eating a couple hours before bedtime, that will be a second large step. Finally, I personally thinking cutting out soda will be a HUGE development in losing weight.

Here's to tomorrow.

ESPN.com - NFL - Cheerleaders charged after alleged sexual escapade

2005-11-07T10:22:00.000-05:00

I just thought this was an awesome, sordid little story, especially considering how a lot of women reacted after the Vikings boating incident a couple months back. The fact that one of the top sports stories this morning is this cheerleader brawl just makes me all warm inside.

ESPN.com - NFL - Cheerleaders charged after alleged sexual escapade

It's a Bird...

2005-11-01T21:20:00.000-05:00

So, I've been thinking a lot about writing again recently. This is for several reasons. Not the least of which is the fact that Nanowrimo started again yesterday, and again I am not participating. Nanowrimo is the reason I was able to finish a novel in the first place, and it doesn't seem right that I can't participate in it again because of my newfound authority for LCT.

Regardless, I'm really getting the itch to write again, and I'm thinking about Superman specifically. Over at Newsarama (I say this because I'm not actually reading Superman comics as they come out but in collections) people are saying that Superman has become a real puss over the past 5-10 years or so. I can't say as I disagree with them. When he was created, he was a hero to the oppressed, overturning crooked politicians and being really progressive in his pre-pubescent politics. By the fifties, however, all the rough edges had been polished off the character, and he was dealing with five diffferent types of Kryptonite and having his powers messed with every other issue. It was a low point for super-hero comics, and both he and Batman had fallen into high camp wackiness. The difference was that Batman was able to return to his more brutal beginnings in the 70s, while Superman became the Big Blue Boyscout, and he never really recovered. It's to the point where writers don't want to touch him because he's so hard to get a handle on.

But what if he was returned to his progressive roots? What if we were reminded that he's an investigative journalist as well as a superhero? That's what I've been thinking about. For me--and maybe this is just because "my" Superman is the one in Man of Steel--Superman isn't the last survivor from an alien superculture, for a Kansas farmboy who's trying to help the world the best way he knows how.

So I've been thinking about what I'm going to do after LCT, maybe in January, is sit down and bang out a Superman novel in a month. I think I could do that. Might even be fun.

Message Bored

2005-11-01T21:11:00.000-05:00

Work can be such a bother.

I find myself avoiding my job more and more and posting at Newsarama.com all the time, even after work at home. Honestly, I recognize that it's getting bad. Here I am, a man in his mid-thirties, competing for the attention of other middle-aged men, and when I'm not mentioned in the Popularity threads that pop up every so often, I get jealous. For that matter, this afternoon I seriously considered creating an alias to post under, just so's I could act like a jerk and get some attention. How pathetic is that.

Speaking of pathetic... Carrie and I flipped on 'The Biggest Loser' for a few minutes tonight--and I'm bigger than the smallest guy was at the BEGINNING of the competition. That's not good. Especially when Dr. Gnade warned me very strenuously about my weight. With my family's history of heart condition, my elevated blood pressure and especially cholesterol, he was very adamant about me losing weight again.

I suppose I'll get back to the gym and hit the treadmill again.

288. Geez.

Fat

2005-06-06T08:53:00.000-04:00

It was raining this morning, so Carrie kicked me out of bed, and I went to the gym.

Ran a mile, then quit. Weighed myself afterwards, and I weigh about 280. That's more than I did at the beginning of the year. I'm still working out on a semi-regular basis, and I'm gaining weight.

Maybe it's all the donuts and Cokes I'm sneaking every day.

But still.

Sunday

2005-05-31T16:15:00.000-04:00

Pastor Dan Green spoke at church on Sunday morning. He's in charge of overseas ministries. Neither Carrie nor I enjoy Pastor Dan Green. I'm sure he's fine, but to me he's deadly dull, and Carrie believes he's a little misogynistic from previous comments he's made.

One thing I noticed about his talk, however, was that, for the second week in a row, from two different pastors, the call to service was hit, and hit hard. Last week it was the overt sermon topic, and this past Sunday it was heavily encouraged for us to get involved in the lives of the 'internationals' in Columbus via the church's 'international missions' program. (Why it isn't under Pastor Phil's community outreach program I don't know).

From there we went to a graduation party for Adam Cook. He had it with four friends at the church AC Chapel, or as we used to call it, South Campus. The mother of one of the boys, Zach Miller, had died Saturday night, and he wasn't there. But the rest of them were, and the mood was fun.

Adam, of course, was Adam. Carrie and I went with the Shindles, and when Adam saw us he squealed, ran over to us, and commenced to talking for about seven minutes straight. At his presentation table, he had a bunch of his artwork. He's really quite talented, and Carrie and I are discussing the possibility of commissioning him to do a charcoal drawing for our library.

***

Not much to say for the rest of the afternoon: Came home, took a nap, played with the phone some more, then went up to Mike & Margaret's house to get an early start on Monday.

Saturday

2005-05-31T15:18:00.000-04:00

Saturday was busy. Honestly, if I were writing this Saturday night instead of Tuesday afternoon, I could break this entry up into 3 or 4 smaller ones. As it is, I'll try to give as much detail as I can:

Got up relatively early, yet not early enough to go running Saturday morning.

We went to Christian's baseball game with Mom and Dad. Erin and Kayli weren't able to make it because Erin's in the middle of moving out of her mom's house and they were up until midnight or so the night before packing and stuff. But Erin's mom was there, and she seemed reasonably well-adjusted.

Christian's seven now, and the game was typical for one filled with seven-year-olds. Infielders who would rather chase the runner around all four bags than through the ball to the next baseman. Outfielders who wear their mitts on their heads. Something that I didn't realize was common for this agegroup now was 'Coach Pitch.' A coach pitches for his own team, while the 'pitcher' stands next to him and fields the ball during the play.

Christian's play was about average. He was one the outfielders who wasn't paying a whole lot of attention. Once or twice I caught him watching the game in the field next to ours. He didn't swing the bat with a whole lot of enthusiasm or speed, but when he did hit it, he had a surprising amount of power behind it, and he listened to the coaches well. He drove in the tying run and was advancing to third when his team's winning run was batted in.

Christian came home with Mom & Dad. We didn't stay too long afterwards, but we stuck around long enough to hear that Christian was doing well enough in school now that his teacher and counselor were suggesting the possibility of having him skip into third grade next year.

Came home. Did the grocery shopping on the way. Took a nap, got the remaining railroad ties we needed, then Carrie wanted to watch Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, because she had only seen it once before and of all the Harry Potter movies to date, it's the one I can stomach the most.

She fell asleep about an hour into it, and I ended up spending the rest of the night playing with my new phone's functionality.

Star Wars, Episode III: Revenge of the Sith

2005-05-22T16:53:00.000-04:00

Well, you know I had to see this movie sooner or later. Carrie wanted to see it, so, with great trepidation and trembling, went with her, Drew and Dave. Wasn't expecting much of anything any better than the last two.And, in that respect, I was disappointed. In every other respect, I was blown away. Elements which were problems in the previous prequel movies are either addressed (such as the acting) or done away with all together (such as Jar-Jar).Sith is much more in the spirit of the original movies, with their tribute to the old movie serials of the 30s and 40s. However much of the political commentary that bogged down the previous two prequels is here in full force. If one believes that Lucas wrote this treatment and dialogue over twenty years ago, then one has to acknowledge that it is still strangely prescient with today's US political climate, with references to one man having too much power over a democratic body, safety and security achieved through force. Even the Jedi get caught up in jinoisms, shouting that they are fighting for democracy. Compare that with the pseudo-religion that envelopes the later films in their references to the Force, and one has to conclude that either Lucas is a brilliant storyteller or a liar.I choose liar, but that's just me.Still, many things in Sit are much better than they were in the earlier prequels. Acting in particular is much better, although I think that Lucas has gotten so wrapped up in the technical aspects of his vision that he had trouble communicating that with his cast. There isn't a performer in this cast who hasn't shone elsewhere in their careers, but in all of the prequels, performances are generally either stiff and wooden, or melodramatic and still wooden. That may be due to the large number of scenes which are shot entirely on bluescreens, leaving the actors to fake everything surrounding them, including whom they're talking to.The movie succeeds in spite of these complaints, and that's a tribute to Lucas' storytelling ability (not that it doens't still make him a liar) and the pacing of the movie. High action pieces and a simple-to-follow plot (as opposed to earlier prequels, which required written directions, a map and several flow charts to follow). If I'm giving the impression that I didn't like Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones, that's only because I didn't. Those two movies could have honestly been cut and re-editted into one movie without losing any of the story. But Sith makes up for all of that. I give this movie my highest recommendation:Watch it in the theatre, more than once!

Rann-Thanagar War #1 (of 6)

2005-05-22T16:52:00.000-04:00

Rann-Thanagar War is one of four mini-series being published by DC right now as a part to reinvigorate certain aspects of the DCU that have gone by the wayside in the past several years. This one focuses on the Cosmic, interplanetary mythos that has developed, featuring two characters that shared a title back in the day, Adam Strange and Hawkman. Unfortunately, having not read the recent Adam Strange mini, I was a little lost as to what was going on. Much of what goes on in this issue is prologue, setting up the fight to come as two cultures accustomed to battle war over one homeworld.The writing from Dave Gibbons is fine, but nothing special, knowing that he was essentially handed the beats of the plot from Dan Didio. Artwork from Ivan Reis and Mark Campos is suitably epic and gritty. Reminded me a little of Sgt. Rock from John Romita or Alex Toth.But I couldn't get over the fact that much of the story was filler. Yet I greatly enjoyed the ride and am anticipating the next issue. And, isn't that all you can really expect from an adventure comic?

Seven Soldiers: Guardian #2 (of 4)

2005-05-22T16:51:00.000-04:00

Here's something you don't expect to see every day: A four-issue mini series where the story ends after the second issue.Grant Morrison's 'Seven Soldiers' is an experiment in every sense of the word. Seven minis featuring seven different characters who don't interact with each other, fighting a common enemy they don't all realize they're fighting, bookended by two specials that don't feature any of the seven.Without getting into specifics, The Guardian is the employee of a New York tabloid hired to be the mascot and icon of journalistic liberty. Nearly as soon as Jake puts on the helmet and shield, his wife is kidnapped by subway pirates who are racing each other to find a treasure hidden somewhere in a secret maze of tracks originally laid down by the Masons.It almost doesn't matter what the story is about, because this is all about Morrison's ability to come up with the weirdest crap and 'throwaway' ideas that other writers would stretch out for months investigating backstory. Morrison understands the true nature of super-hero comics better than just about anyone else working today, and he's able to capture that awe and wonder better than anyone else period.

'Why the Dispatch Sucks,' Reason #143

2005-05-20T16:01:00.000-04:00

I'm going to post the entire article below, because eventually it will be archived on the Columbus Dispatch website, and I wanted an account of how stupid this is:

For Reds and Indians to contend, it would take a . . .
United front
Friday, May 20, 2005
Scott Priestle

Memorial Day is still a week away, and already much of the optimism that surrounded the Cincinnati Reds and Cleveland Indians this spring is gone. It appears the glory days of summer might not arrive. Is it too soon to think about football? We watched the struggling Indians offense batter a good double-A pitcher this week, so we know they have enough talent to win the Texas League. It got us wondering what it would take for the Indians to catch the Chicago White Sox or the Reds to catch the St. Louis Cardinals.

Maybe if we took the best each team had to offer? Maybe . . .

The following is our 25-man roster, based on how the players have performed through the first 6½ weeks of the season and how we can realistically expect them to perform the rest of the season:

OUTFIELD Adam Dunn, Ken Griffey Jr., Grady Sizemore, Wily Mo Pena, Coco Crisp
Dunn is the prototypical slugger of this generation — a lot of home runs, a lot of walks, a lot of strikeouts and soon a lot of money. The latter does not concern us, so Dunn will anchor our lineup.

We like Sizemore’s hustle, and his talent is beginning to show. But he has to move to right field, because center field is Griffey’s domain as long as he is healthy.

Crisp provides speed and versatility off the bench, and Pena provides pop. When they are hot, either can bump Sizemore out of the lineup. When they are hurt — as both are now — we will dip into triple-A for Austin Kearns and Jody Gerut.

INFIELD Sean Casey, Ryan Freel, Jhonny Peralta, Joe Randa, Travis Hafner, Felipe Lopez, Ronnie Belliard
Hafner will be our designated hitter in American League parks. The Indians have been reluctant to use him at first base, so we won’t put him there, either. Casey gets the nod there over Ben Broussard, based on a longer track record.

Randa wins the third-base job by default over the slumping Aaron Boone. We prefer Freel as a utility player, but he has been hot lately so he starts ahead of Belliard at second base. Peralta starts at shortstop based on his current power binge of five home runs in 11 games.

CATCHER Victor Martinez , Josh Bard
Switch-hitters. And Martinez can’t continue hitting this poorly, can he?

STARTING ROTATION C.C. Sabathia, Kevin Millwood, Cliff Lee, Aaron Harang, Jake Westbrook
As with Randa at third base, the Indians starters get the nod by default, with only Harang representing the Reds.

Sabathia, Millwood and Lee have been solid. Westbrook has either been very good with lousy luck or just plain lousy. Still, we will take him over the trio of Eric Milton (pow), Paul Wilson (bam) and Ramon Ortiz (boom).

BULLPEN Bob Wickman, Arthur Rhodes, Ryan Wagner, David Riske, Rafael Betancourt, Kent Mercker
Wickman and Danny Graves keep the ninth inning interesting. Wickman has been on a roll this month, and he hasn’t bad-mouthed any fans, so he is our guy.

Rhodes might be the best of this bunch right now, and the youngster Wagner could be by the end of the season. Riske and Betancourt have been automatic for the Indians.

Mercker gets the nod over Scott Sauerbeck as our left-handed specialist by virtue of being a Dublin native. We got love for the local boy.

In the end, our hybrid club should score a few more runs than the Indians have scored and allow fewer than the Reds have allowed, but only the outfield stands out. It still doesn’t look like a World Series contender, so we still like the Cardinals. Unless we can swing a trade for that Pujols guy.

Hey, it’s our dream . . .

Now here's the thing: Columbus isn't a large city, and outside of the OSU Buckeyes and Columbus Suck Jackets, there isn't a lot of local sports. However, because we're almost in the middle of Cincinnati and Cleveland, almost everybody has a favorite sports team. My point is that there's a lot of regional sports news to cover on any given day. Indians, Reds, Buckeyes, Browns, Bengals, Crew, Clippers, Cavaliers, etc.

We've got a lot of sports.

Now, why would the above story have the lead on the front page of the sports section?!? It's about FANTASY FREAKIN' BASEBALL. It's a 'what if!'

And it's not like it's been a slow news day. The Indians just lost an outfielder for several months due to injury. Another arrest by an OSU football player just got the NCAA involved in our program. Congress is grilling all the major sports commissioners, and we have a write-up on FANTASY BASEBALL?

I just don't get it.

Break-In

2005-05-20T08:12:00.000-04:00

While Carrie was at the gym, the truck window was busted out and someone stole her purse and laptop.

I can hardly believe it. I mean, I knew that the truck would be a bigger target than either of our cars (no pun intended), but I didn't think it would happen so soon.

Of course, at least part of the onus is on her for leaving her purse and laptop in the truck in the first place. I don't consider myself paranoid, but when I go to the gym and I have my XM receiver with me, I tuck it away where it's less likely to be seen.

Except today, getting out of the car, I left my cellphone inside.

Maybe I should go get it.

Meloncholy Baby

2005-05-19T16:54:00.000-04:00

Robert Parker is not only one of my favorite authors, he's one of idols, but only with one of his recurring characters, Sunny Randall.Like Parker's most famous PI, Spencer, Randall operates out of Boston MA. Unlike Spencer, she's a woman, and also unlike Spencer, she relies much more on her friends and family.Her ex-husband is finally getting married, even though they never stopped loving each other. Sunny is so upset about this, and she is so confused about the realization that she doesn't understand why she seems unable to live with other people, that she decides to visit a psychiatrist on a regular basis. She also picks up a new case, about a college-age woman who believes she is adopted but whose parents won't admit to it.The main plot--the young woman--moves along briskly with Parker's usual flair for dialogue and quick, sharp characterization. But it's the style of his writing that really pulls the reader along. The plot, while fine, does seem a little looser than his usual efforts.The thing that struck me the most about the book, however, is how open-ended it is. While the mystery of the young girl's parentage is 'solved,' no arrest is made at the end of the book. It's impending, but it hasn't happened yet. And Sunny has an ephiphany about herself and her family that is a milestone, but not the finish line.While 'Melancholy Baby' is a solid story with typically snappy Parker writing, I can't shake the feeling that this story--either elements of it--isn't over yet.

PostSecret

2005-05-19T12:18:00.000-04:00

Found this trippy little blog called PostSecret. People send in homemade postcards with a secret they have never told anyone. A lot of them are dopey ("I will always love her," or "She never gave me a chance") or self-indulgent ("I had gay sex at church camp three times" or "There is reason to believe I was a pre-honeymoon baby... and evidence that my mother still has not forgiven me for this"). A handful are starkly beautiful ("I still haven't told my father I have the same disease that killed my mother"). But each of them tells a story.

This one is my favorite:

Imagine having the ability to start your life completely over. Imagine having to do that. Taking the disaster of the 9/11 attacks, and using that to just... disappear.

I don't know who this person is, or what kind of person he/she was before or after the attack, or why they felt the need to runaway during the attack. But I hope they were able to make the most out of their new life.

3-Day Downtown Deer

2005-05-19T09:59:00.000-04:00

I work downtown. I have to drive on highways that go directly through downtown every day.

There has been a deer carcass lying by the side of an elevated highway for three days now.

Three days.

I don't know which is more surprising: that a deer would be able to make its way all the way downtown before getting hit, or that it's been this long and the city hasn't cleaned up the carcass yet. I know that Columbus--while it isn't a large city--covers a lot of acreage and is seen as a sprawling city. It's easier to find green in Columbus than it is in a lot of other places. I've even seen deer living in small city parks, and thinking at the time how difficult it would have had to be for the deer to arrive in the parks when they're surrounded by middle-class neighborhoods on all sides, unless the neighborhoods grew up around the parks.

That's the kind of place Columbus is. A lot slower pace than other 'big' cities. More green. Maybe not as clean as some, but easier to get to places that are clean, so you don't necessarily feel trapped.

I just want to know how that friggin' deer got there.

Young Christian

2005-05-19T09:09:00.000-04:00

I mentioned on my Prayer Blog that we got some good news about Christian from my mom yesterday. He's doing much better in school since going to a counselor regularly (I don't know if it's a school counselor or a specialist in a private practice). He had been acting up severely, getting violent and bullying the other students. Around December he was in danger of being expelled. Carrie and I were preparing ourselves for the possibility of having Christian taken out of his home and having to make a play for custody.

But that didn't happen, and I'm finding myself a little disappointed by that. I guess I even more for him than I realized, because now I have to let go (at least for the time being) of the idea of taking him under my wing.

The good news is, along with his behavior, is that his grades are sky high. Carrie said that Mom said that 'they' (I don't know who 'they refers to, either the school administration or the counselors or just Erin's warped mind) were talking about having Christian advance directly to the third grade next year, or at least putting him in a third-grade reading group.

Mom said she was very thankful to see that Christian was taking after his uncle more than either of his parents or other relatives. That felt nice.

But I still worry about him. He has so little structure in his life, and so little discipline. I could see him easily losing control of himself and taking the worst parts from both parents.

But it's still nice to see he's doing okay now.

"...And on the Fourth Day, He Cheated."

2005-05-19T08:22:00.000-04:00

This morning both Carrie and I woke up a little late. She wanted to go into the gym because the road running was bothering her back. I told her to go ahead, but that I'd better stay on the road.

I got to running, and she passed me in the truck. When the truck was out of sight, I turned around and walked home. I still ran about a mile, give or take 1/10.

I think what I'll recommend for the rest of the month is this:

Monday: Curve
Tuesday: 4-Way
Wednesday: 3.1 miles on treadmill in gym
Thursday: 4-Way
Friday: Curve
Saturday: 20 miles on bike
Sunday: Rest

Then, at the beginning of June, I can ramp it up a little more, so that on Mondays & Fridays I'm running to the 4-way stop, Tuesdays and Thursday I'm running from home to the 4-way and then to Curve, etc.

Marital Fight Simulator

2005-05-18T10:32:00.000-04:00

The next time I think I have an opinion. I'm going to remember this:

MARITAL FIGHT SIMULATOR

Saw that at Talk@Newsarama earlier today, right before Carrie and I got into another stupid argument that came down to 'we can't afford it right now.' And, of course, like many times, she does have the better point.

I need a new adaptor for my XM radio to function in her car. I was thinking if we cancelled our current subscription, we could BOGO two new receivers with car kits. That way we could keep the hook-ups in each vehicle and switch them out, and have the other one for inside the house. It turned into some big miscommunication (which tend to happen more when she's cramping--she gets cranky, which makes me cranky, which makes it very difficult for us to communicate effectively).

Again, she was right, and I was able to find the part I needed for $30, so it really became a non-issue. But when we do get into these discussions, I always seem to be the one backing down. I'm not saying she should back down more. If she's right she's right. But sometimes it just seems like she needs a lot more convincing to accept the possibility that she's wrong than I do.

We Pee More Before 8AM Than Most People Do All Day.

2005-05-18T09:59:00.000-04:00

Carrie and I only ran a mile today, to Curve and back. But we ran it at a faster pace. She said that I was running much faster than I was yesterday, and I had pretty well outstripped her by the time we got to Curve at the same distance apart we were yesterday.

I drink a lot of water in the morning, and I do a lot of peeing as a result. I peed a total of at least five times this morning by the time I got to work:

When I woke up.
I drank a big glass of water before we took off and had to go again
After the run, before I got in the shower
After the shower
When I stopped to get gas
When I arrived at the office

I'd say I've easily processed a half-gallon at this point. Probably more (and, no, I don't want to prove it).

Noo Shoos

2005-05-17T14:56:00.001-04:00

Walking from my parking lot to the office this morning, I walked past a pair of shoes, just sitting there on the sidewalk, side-by-side. They looked like they had been deliberately taken off and set there, and a Reece's Peanut Butter Cup wrapper had been tucked inside the left one.

The shoes weren't new, but they were nice: Rockport walking shoes.

I've been working downtown a couple of years now, and I've seen some things. I've seen random shoes and socks that look like they were tossed out of the window of a moving car. But nothing like this. This looked like performance art. I even had to back up and take a closer look at them this afternoon on the way back to my car, if they're still there.

The Things You Notice When You Don't Drive

2005-05-17T08:48:00.000-04:00

So, like I mentioned in the last post, I rode almost 14 miles on the bike last night. It was quiet, and generally, all I could hear was the wind as it rushed past my helmet, my continual panting and the shifting of my gears. But I heard other things as well: the running river, trains in the distance, etc.

You notice things you don't when you're zipping past at 60 MPH in a fully encased machine like a car or truck. Like this morning, on our run, I really noticed the sunrise in the east, the pinks and oranges painting the horizon, clouds dappling in front of the sun. Pastel mists rising from the fields, and barns & farmhouses being outlined and highlighted in shadow. If it weren't for the powerlines in the distance, it would be really beautiful.

Or last night, on my ride, I noticed cars that were for sale in front of their owners' homes. I had a chance to take some good long looks at a couple of quaint country churches as I past them, and thought about what their congregations might be like, or their services. What kind of community outreach might they have, when the world is encroaching on them and passing them by at the same time.

But the thing I remembered most distinctly were the gnats that were swarming on Pollack by the river. The sun hadn't set yet, so I was able to see the little black dots darting around before me them a mere second before I tilted my head down and heard them smack into my helmet.

They sounded like pebbles.

81 Minutes

2005-05-16T21:48:00.000-04:00

That's how long I was on the bike this evening. Unfortunately, I don't know how far I rode. I think it was about 14-15 miles, but I thought I was taking a substantial short cut. I'll have to drive it sometime in the next couple of days to make sure and I'll update that here.

Edited Tuesday, May 17, 8:43 AM
So I drove the truck the same route as I rode last night. It clocked in at 13.9 miles. That gives me a rate of 5:49 per mile. That's not bad. And there were a lot of up & downs to begin with. And I had run that morning. That will equal 116 minutes for 20 miles. Not great, but again, not bad.

Last of the Whining

2005-05-16T16:23:00.000-04:00

I checked out the results board for the race yesterday.

I finished last because I quit. But I didn't finish last in the first leg. I didn't even finish last in my class. If I had stuck it out and gotten some rest for my legs, I could have actually made some time up.

Oh well. Live and learn. Since Alum Creek is so close to our house, I'm going to run the actual race path a couple of times between now and Jun 19. Sven wants to train with me to if we can get our schedules meshed.

Shin Splints

2005-05-16T07:52:00.000-04:00

So this morning at 5:30 we get up, get dressed, and run 2.6 miles, from our house to the four-corner stop and back. Takes about a half-hour. Carrie was able to do it all with a shuffling jog. I had to slow to a walk several times because my shins were frigging killing me. Something about the motion of jogging really hurts my shins. Feels like there are muscles that are being shredded in there. The pain is relieved a bit when I open up my stride a bit more, but I can't keep that longer jog up for very long before I run out of juice and my form is thrown off even more when I go back to a shuffling jog.

Carrie is going to want to keep this routine up for as long as there's daylight at 6AM. I can't find a schedule online, but I expect to have daylight at that hour until at least early September. IF we can keep it up that long, in addition to other workouts (I plan on hitting the bike this afternoon when I get home, for example), we should both be in pretty good condition by this fall.

Carrie's the one with discipline. Once she has something in her head, she doesn't quit. She is either too afraid to, or she just doesn't know how. Once something gets locked up there, it stays there. So, I'm basically locked into running 2.5-3.1 miles everyday from now on.

I'm thinking Carrie should run one of these triathlons with me. I doubt she'd be up for the one next month at Alum Creek, but the one in August at Delaware State Park, that's mostly flat terrain. She should be able to do that.

Monster-In-Law

2005-05-15T16:56:00.000-04:00

In a nutshell, it was okay. Fluffy fun for the femmes. Don't know if I would call it a 'date movie,' because it didn't deal with the romantic relationship between Jennifer Lopez's character and whoever was the lead male in the movie. That relationship was established pretty quickly. The main thrust of the movie is the relationship between Lopez and (duh!) her future Mother-in-Law, played by Jane Fonda, who hasn't been in a theatrical release since 1990.I didn't think the movie wasn't as bad as Roger Ebert thought it was, but it wasn't good, either. It's the kind of film that I'll forget I ever saw in a couple of years, unless I run across this entry (which is kinda the point). On my movie scale, this rates a "Sunday afternoon in syndication."

...and a movie.

2005-05-15T15:36:00.000-04:00

Okay, now that I've gotten that over with...

We saw Monster-in-Law last night with the Shindles and Vance, like I mentioned before.

In a nutshell, it was okay. Fluffy fun for the femmes. Don't know if I would call it a 'date movie,' because it didn't deal with the romantic relationship between Jennifer Lopez's character and whoever was the lead male in the movie. That relationship was established pretty quickly. The main thrust of the movie is the relationship between Lopez and (duh!) her future Mother-in-Law, played by Jane Fonda, who hasn't been in a theatrical release since 1990.

The movie wasn't as bad as Roger Ebert thought it was, but it wasn't good, either. It's the kind of film that I'll forget I ever saw in a couple of years, unless I run across this entry (which is kinda the point).

On my movie scale, this rates a "Sunday afternoon in syndication."

One of the Best Songs of all Time:

2005-05-15T15:32:00.000-04:00

Burning Love by Elvis Presley.

198

2005-05-15T13:30:00.000-04:00

Right now I'm wearing the T-shirt of a race I couldn't finish. Hell, I couldn't even get started.

It was a beautiful day for racing. About 60F degress , blue sky. Generally upbeat mood (it was kind of hard to tell what the mood was because Carrie and I only got there a few minutes before my age group took off.

We had to get up at 5:30 to get there on time. Carrie drove. I was a nervous wreck. Everything was rush rush rush.

The course itself started on a 2.25 mile professional racetrack in Marion, OH. They're actually having races there this afternoon, in fact.

Beautiful day. Absolutely gorgeous. I line up with the others in my age group, and we take off on the first leg of the race, around the pro track. I quickly became the last in my age group, and as other waves of racers passed me, they sometimes shouted encouragement. Women mostly. I don't know if they felt sorry for me or not.

I had to stop and walk at least twice on the track. That was my first cue that I was going to have trouble. No, no that's not true. My first indication that I was in trouble was that I was the only one there who didn't look like he was ready for it. There were a handful of others who may not have been regular triathletes, but they were still in much better shape. But after we took off, and I saw how... unlevel the track was, I started... not panicking, really, but I couldn't breathe, and I just saw all these inclines and declines and everything, and wondering how I was ever going to be able to do this.

So I walked part of the way. The first transition put us back on the track for another lap. I still couldn't catch my breath, and I was still being lapped by the 'age-groupers.'

On the way to the track, Carrie and passed a couple signs on the road saying that the road was being used as part of the bike leg. These were more than just little foothills, some were pretty substantial hills.

By the time I was finishing the race track bike lap, my legs were already killing me, and I still had 25K yet to go on the bike before returning to the track. All on these hills. On the track I hadn't had to get off and push, but if it came to that, I'd be done for anyway. I knew that unless I could catch my breath, I'd never be able to make the leg, much less the final footrace leg.

So I didn't even try. I pulled back into the transition area and pulled the number off my chest, got Carrie and left. The race started at 7:20AM. We had left the track area and were pulling out of the facility by 8:49AM. I was done.

That crumpled up number, 198, is hanging on the wall in front of me as a reminder of what I have to overcome before the Alum Creek race in a month.

Looking back, could I have toughed it out and finished the race? Maybe. I just realized that I pulled out of the race about 8:20 or so, maybe a little later. The track closed to bikes at 8:45. Seems like a lot of time, and it may have been. And I may have not been the last one on the track, but I was darn close. What I would really be racing wouldn't bethe other racers, but the deadline. Let's say it was 8:30. I know that I can do around 15 miles in about an hour, on a flat surface. The bike portion was a little over 19 miles, but didn't close until 11AM. That gave me two and a half hours to get through it. Since I never saw the route, I don't know how I would have done, but If I'd allowed myself a chance to recover, I might have been able to make it through. That would still have allowed an hour for powerwalking the last 5K if I needed to.

Carrie says she's proud of me for going out there and trying. I think she'd probably be more proud of me if I'd finished. It's just logical, and Carrie's all about the logic. She drove me home and told me sweet nothings about how proud she was of me, and she's esseantially taking on the role of coach. Wants to re-do all of our diets and even get out on the road with me every morning.

***

Just had the conversation. She didn't want me to do another triathlon until I could master the duothlon, because it would mean another discipline when I haven't gotten my arms around running yet. Obviously, running is my weak spot. I was able to make her understand that that's exactly the reason why triathlons are better for me right now: less running. Somehow we talked each other into running together every morning.

Should be interesting, to say the least.

Dinner...

2005-05-14T22:28:00.001-04:00

Just got back from dinner and a movie with Carrie and her friends over at Easton. We went to the Cheesecake factory, which is always good food, but so pompous with their policies. They're one of the most popular places in town, but they don't take reservations or 'call ahead' seating. Why? They know that they're a destination for locals, and yet they force people to wait for hours. Lesley organized the evening, and we were planning to eat at 5:30, but because of their policy, Scott and Sarah had to get there at 4:30 to ensure that we were seated by 5:30. There was already an hour wait at 4:30. We left the restaurant at a little after 7pm, and I heard someone waiting outside talking on the phone that there was a three-hour wait at that point! Maybe it's just good business, because it always ensures that there's a crowd of people waiting to get in. I hear that the Cheesecake Factory's based out of Beverly Hills, CA. Maybe that's why they do it.

And it's so loud in there. One of the loudest restaurants I've ever been to. The portions are huge and the waitstaff is mostly efficient. But the trade off is that you can never have a romantic dinner there, because you have to shout everything to the person next to you. I must be getting old, because the volume just ruins the ambiance for me, to the point that I would never choose to go there on the weekend when I know it's going to be bad.

***

I've been typing this entry while waiting for the dog to come in. I've got a race tomorrow and I have to get up at 5:30 if I want to make it. So, I'm signing off now.

Gotta get my rest, dontcha know.

Snail Count: Day 1

2005-05-14T22:26:00.000-04:00

Less than 24 hours after the first snail was spotted, I can easily find five in the tank.

This could get ugly fast.

Sing a Song

2005-05-14T11:05:00.000-04:00

One of the great things about my XM Radio is that there are so many stations that you get to hear songs you've never heard or haven't heard in so long that you forgot you knew them in the first place.

I like to listen to it when I'm mowing the lawn on Saturdays. The signal isn't strong enough to make it through the entire 2-acre yard, but I can certainly make it to the barn before the signal cuts out.

This morning I was listening to the XM when I heard Sing a Song by the Carpenters come on. It was originally recorded for Sesame Street in the early seventies, but proved so popular it was released as a single in 1973 (There were a couple of other songs that made that jump: (It's Not Easy) Bein' Green and Rubber Duckie).

The song was one of my favorites growing up. It's simple and beautiful. As I was mowing the lawn, I thought about sharing that song with my children, as a lullaby, and it made me cry. Pulling up the lyrics just now found me a site with an mpeg playing it, and I started crying again.

This is a song I want to share with my kids.

Sing, sing a song
Sing out loud
Sing out strong
Sing of good things not bad
Sing of happy not sad.

Sing, sing a song
Make it simple to last
Your whole life long
Don't worry that it's not
Good enough for anyone
Else to hear
Just sing, sing a song.

Sing, sing a song
Let the world sing along
Sing of love there could be
Sing for you and for me.

Sing, sing a song
Make it simple to last
Your whole life
long
Don't worry that it's not
Good enough for anyone
Else to hear
Just sing, sing a song.

Snails

2005-05-13T23:06:00.000-04:00

I have a snail in my fish tank.

I shouldn't have a snail in my fish tank. I didn't put a snail in my fish tank. I put fish in my fish tank, but I never put a snail in my fish tank.

I just cleaned it out a month ago. I cleaned it out completely. Emptied it out, scrubbed it clean, got new rocks and plants and fish for it, and then re-filled it. I had two fish already. An algae-eater that had grown to giantic proportions due to overfeading and another fish that nobody seems to be able to identify but is probably in the Danio family. When I restocked the tank, I chose to go with easy first, and got a bunch of smaller danios and tetras. Got some freshwater plants because I never had any, and a couple of pieces of driftwood to give it a more natural look than it had.

I never got any snails. I know I didn't because I had thought about it and rejected the idea because I wanted to make sure I could keep the fish alive first.

So how did it get there? I can't imagine it was from the rocks, because they were packaged so tightly they would have crushed the little thing. It really is tiny. The driftwood, possibly, but it would have had to be dormant, because the wood was dry. Certainly not the fish, because there were no snails in any of the breeding tanks. That leaves the plants. Would have been plenty of places to hide in the greenery.

Buy I only see the thing for the first time tonight? I was making another entry, and I look over at the tank, and there it is, crawling across the back glass of the tank. It's been a month, like I said. The only reason I can imagine why I haven't seen it before now is because I accidently buried the thing when I planted the plants. It's probably spent the last couple of weeks digging itself out of the rocks.

Not that I mind. Snails are algae eaters, too. And I've got an algae problem right now, so that's cool.

I've got a snail in my fish tank.

Helluva thing.

2005-05-13T22:53:00.000-04:00

It's been basically a good day.

Work was productive, but not so productive that I couldn't slack. I got a lot done. While I wasn't able to finish a full 2.5 miles, like I'll need for Sunday, I do think I came close to two miles. Which isn't bad. Rain prevented us from mowing the lawn at all tonight, so we stayed inside for the rest of the night and watched Garden State.

It wasn't as good as I thought it would be. Maybe I'm getting old, but it seems like any kind of drug reference in a movie turns me off anymore. This guy who is a struggling actor in Hollywood gets a call from his dad telling him that his mom has died and he has to come home for the funeral. He hasn't been home or spoken to his dad or any of his friends in nine years. While he's finally starting to grow up, his friends have given themselves over to hedonism, but they're not enjoying it. It's just a lifestyle. There's a lot of uncomfortable silences between Large (Zack Branff) and his friends. The movie wasn't glorifying drug use at all, but it was depressing to see what kind of losers his friends had become. One worked as a gravedigger, but he stripped the corpses of jewelry after the funeral, before he buried them. Another was wealthy beyond his comprehension, but he was so bored that the only thing that he could think to do was get stoned constantly.

When you choose to party as a lifestyle, it becomes a job like anything else, and ceases to be fun.

Maybe it bothered me because it reminded me too much of my brother, who has chosen that lifestyle, and is also bored and unfulfilled, but doesn't know what else to do but to live for himself. Doesn't even know how to treat his own children, he's so hooked into his own world.

That's sad. I don't want to talk about that anymore.

***

Sunday I have a race. A duothlon. 4K-30K-4K. I still can't do the 4K foot race, much less two. But I'm committed.

It's in Mansfield Ohio at 7:30 in the morning, and I have until 12:30 to finish. I think I can do that, but there's only one way to find out. Am I nervous? Yeah. But I made a promise to myself, and to my friends who promised to keep me accountable to race with me later in the year.

Right now, I just wish I was on the other side of the finish tape.

Story Idea: "The Mascot"

2005-05-12T22:04:00.000-04:00

Professional athletes are a cowardly, superstitious lot. Football players won't change their jocks because they think it brings them luck. Baseball pitchers have to touch the pitcher's mound with their left toe first before stepping all the way up.

Fans are absorbed by this, too. The rituals and routines observed by players are equally as important to fans, who have their 'lucky hats,' or a fan who buys an extra season ticket for his drum in the bleachers.

What if each professional sports team has one individual, one person who can affect the outcome of the game just by their presence in the stadium or arena. One person who, just by being there, will bring luck to the local team and curse whomever they're playing.

But what if that person hated the home team with a passion? What if the Yankees mascot was an Indians fan? Or the man who could bless the Dallas Cowboys was a 49ers fan?

***

This just in: How about this--what if every sports team not only had a team pastor but a team shaman as well? What if their team mascot was also a totem shaman of some sort, and all these shamans were constantly battling each other to affect the outcomes of games? The owners would know, the players might know, but the fans wouldn't realize that the real power behind the teams was really magical, and all the rituals they did really did affect the teams karma or chi? How cool would that be?

Bad News Redux

2005-05-12T22:03:00.000-04:00

Noticed my last post before the previous one, "Good News, Bad News." Just as an update, I never did hear back from that agency. So, goodbye, agency. I've isolated about eight more that I will query in the next week, and then, I give up on finding an agent for 'Unlicensed Magic' and concentrate on the next manuscript instead.

Kicks

2005-05-12T16:02:00.000-04:00

I get on certain Kicks when it comes to things like writing. I do it regularly, every day, super disciplined, for months at a time. Then WHAMMO I can't look at it for an equal amount of time. Sometimes longer.

Always seems to happen. This time was incited when I had my gum operation back in March and was out to lunch for three days, and caught a nasty cold and was out for a few more. About a week in total I was totally miserable and didn't do a thing I didn't have to. Stayed in bed whenever possible. Didn't write, didn't read my Bible, didn't do much of anything.

But once I began to feel better, I still didn't do anything. And that's the problem. I can be going really good, and then droop it completely for months, and then dread going back to it at all. When I had that operation, I broke all of my New Year's Resolutions at once:

Journaling
Fiction Writing
Agent/Market Research
Bible Reading
Bible Memorization (almost forgot that one)
Prayer
Excercise
Dieting

With the help (read "arm-twisting") of my wife, I've gotten back into the agent research, which is encouraging me to write, a little. I've got a duothlon on Sunday that's kicking my butt into gear with exercise (That's 4k-18k-4k or approximately 2.5m-15m-1.5m).

But the rest of it is up to me. I spend a lot of my free time at work at the Talk@newsarama boards, but that's no excuse for not journaling more often.

I like journaling. I enjoy journaling. I need journaling, because when I don't, I don't have any space to vent, then I get really cranky and defensive with the wife. I need to write just as an escape.

And yet... when I step away from it for just a few days, it seems almost impossible to get back into it.

Bible reading is easy. Regular prayer is not. It's almost impossible for me, but I've got to stop making it so difficult for myself by putting pressure on myself, and just get back into the habit.

Miscommunication

2005-03-22T23:52:00.000-05:00

Okay, so tonight I organized a meeting for all the laypeople on the Core LEadership Team. Outside of the guys I personally know, there wasn't much of a turnout at all. But one person who did show up was Dan Custer, the son of the Head Pastor, Jim. He said that one of the reasons he showed up was because of the way I worded the e-mail invitation it gave the impression that we couldn't talk in front of the pastors, like we were going to be tearing into them. Of course, that wasn't my intention, but now I'm fretting about it, because of the low turnout. If he showed up to confront it, how many others DIDN'T show up because they didn't want to deal with it?

So now, in my intent to be a leader, may I have cost our respect from the others by appearing that I am on a witch hunt. And how is this going to affect how people perceive our presentation, especially if we have to talk about the negative aspects of the staff? Or will I have to couch my comments so softly as to be completely ineffective?

And the worst part is that Carrie agreed with him, that my e-mail was worded poorly. Not that she was any better. She went out of her way weeks ago that our presentation shouldn't be like, "Randy's a jerk, and here's why," and yet tonight, when talking about response times from the staff, she mentioned Dr. Glen by name, so now how do we deal with the fact that most of the other pastors we've spoken with think he sows disunity in the church without looking we have an axe to grind.

It's frustrating, is all.

Let There Be Light

2005-03-18T10:07:00.000-05:00

So, I'm doing light for the Easter program again this year. New lightboard, more switches, fewer lighting cues.

The program itself (I'm trying hard to not call it a 'show'--that term bugs me in reference to a church ministry)is okay. Technically, I think it's better than it was last year, but the people participating in it are less enthusiastic than they were last year, probably because they've been in four major productions in the past two years. They're tired. It's hard to build up enthusiasm for this project. The music is okay, and the cast is trying hard, but, of course, the choir is raising a stink about everything they can.

I also think this is emblematic for many of the issues the church is currently facing, but that is another rant for another day.

Carrie's doing to final monologue in modern dress, and I'm pushing buttons, so neither one of us has a whole lot to do, but we have to be there because we have to be there.

Tonight's opening night. The church has put up curtains in front of the overhang to make the room seem smaller, since we haven't sold any seats past that point.

Somebody asked us last night if we wanted to do anything after the program. At this point, I think we're probably going to say no, but I'm withholding judgment until this evening to see how we feel at the moment.

The House of Mouse

2005-03-18T09:49:00.000-05:00

So Carrie found a dead mouse when she got home yesterday, but it was okay because it was a FIELD mouse, not a HOUSE mouse. The cats had grown tired of it when it stopped moving, but even then, she said they would walk by it every once in a while and whap it with their paw.

Evidently a field mouse is a different species than a house mouse. A field mouse is small and lean and gray, while a house mouse is fat and brown. A field mouse will move into a house during the winter to keep warm, but move back outside in the spring. They don't take up residence. A house mouse will move in and breed and infest. Of course, my question is, if a field mouse moves in and breeds during the winter, what kinds of kids will it have? And where do house mice come from, if not from outside. She said they came from other houses, but that doesn't make much sense to me.

I try not to think about it too much.

Shrug.

Mogollon

2005-03-18T09:36:00.000-05:00

I am really loving National Geographic. I've been getting NG Adventure and NG Traveller for years now, and when my wife had the opportunity to get a discounted subcription to the flagship title for me, she did.

Boy am I happy she did, too. This is just one great magazine. I never really realized that the quality of the writing and the stories would be so high.

And it's a GREAT place to come up with ideas for stories. They explore so many different cultures and ideas every month that can be altered or used for fantasy or sci-fi. And little things that can be used for individual characters that I would never come up with on my own with my provincial, US mindset.

Sometimes it's just a word, like 'Mogollon.' I found that while reading a profile of an archeologist who believes that the Anasazi were actually the Aztecs migrating north. Mogollon was made in an off-hand reference to a small pre-historic society, but to me, that sounds like the perfect name for a barbarian king, a la Conan.

I just wish I had more time to read it. Too busy working around the house. But that's another rant for another time.

Desperate Housewives vs. Law & Order

2005-03-14T16:57:00.000-05:00

In a recent issue of Entertainment Weekly, I saw an article profiling the different Law and Order shows. One of the points that it made is that maybe the current era of the police/legal drama is winding down, with all the L&O and CSI franchises being beating by light soaps like Desperate Housewives.They didn't take into consideration that these light soaps slip into self-parody and lose their luster after about 4 seasons. Can't keep up the momentum. The original Law & Order is on its 14th season, I think, and if you rolled all the L&O series into a syndicated ball, you'd already have more than 20 seasons of procedural drama. They're not all burning up the ratings anymore, but they are all very solid performers, the workhorses of the NBC schedule. Desperate Housewives is the current darling of primetime, but I doubt very seriously that they'll be able to keep it up more than a couple of years before they either run out of ideas or the backstage politics take precedence over the on-camera performances.

Minutae

2005-03-14T08:42:00.000-05:00

This morning I skipped my morning workout, and then accidently brought my gym bag into work instead of my backpack. Freud much?

***

Ohio University, my alma mater, even though I didn't graduate, one the MAC Tournament and got a bid for the NCAA Tourny.

***

Got drafted into working JFY (Just for You) Easter concert, although Dave O'Roark didn't actually notify me or anything. He told my wife that I'm going to be running lights for the program. That means I have to be there starting tomorrow night, through Sunday. Fun fun fun.

***

I'm feeling the itch to write. Don't have the time to dedicate, but definitely the itch. Gotta see what I can do about that.

***

Even though I skipped out on the morning workout, I feel a lot better emontionally/motivationally than I did last week. The sun is shining, and I 'discovered' a new station on XM that really elevates my mood--The Blend. It's the 'easy hits of the 80s, 90s and today' channel. Just a lot of light, upbeat hits that I really need when I'm down.

It didn't hurt that yesterday was the first Sunday in a while that I actually got to relax for an extended period. I know I harp on this a lot, but, for me, it's important to really not plan anything for Sundays, even if it's visiting family or going to a movie or something. I enjoy not doing anything, and I got to do that yesterday. I read, I listened to some music, and basically just got to chill out. Very enjoyable Sunday, and that is helping me to get stuff done today.

***

Speaking of which, I gotta get back to work.

Inertia

2005-03-11T07:56:00.000-05:00

Inertia is defined by Webster's New College Dictionary as: "1. The tendency of a body to resist acceleration, as the tendency of a body at rest to remain at rest or of a body in motion to stay in motion in a straight line unless disturbed by an external force. 2. Resistance to change or motion."

In this day and age where everybody comes from a dysfunctional family and all our kids are ADD, I won't admit I 'suffer' from depression, but I will say that I get depressed every once and a while (usually on days like I've had this past week, where the weather is just gray and gloomy), but what I really suffer from is inertia, in the emotional sense. When I'm not doing anything productive, I tend to want to stay that way. I've been noticing on Sundays, especially, when I sit down in front of the TV, I don't move for a couple of hours.

I said all that to say this: My inertia has been really bad this week. At work I've pretty much done absolutely nothing for the past week, maybe two. Haven't done my Bible reading, and I'm slow around the house, having difficulty focusing on anything.

At work it's been the most noticeable, because I'm spending all day playing on message boards and avoiding my bankers, but I don't think I've done more than maybe an hour of real work all week.

I haven't posted here or in my other blogs in several weeks. Just too bored, you know.

And at home, all we ever seem to do is work on the library. The strain is really beginning to show on both of us. Carrie is snappish and I'm sullen. We're both cranky. Last night was especially frustrating as we re-drywalled one wall, and had to deal with all sorts of complications due to poor planning and rushing through. But we finished what we needed to finish, and hopefully, prayerfully, we'll be over the hump and looking at the backside of our construction. We better be, because once the weather's nice enough to go outside, Carrie's going to go ballistic if she can't play in her gardens.

As for me, I'm moving, slowly, just trying to catch up the old things I promised myself I would do: Bible reading and memorization every day, working out twice a day, journalling or writing when I can. But it's tough. What I really want to do is sit in a comfy chair and not do anything: no writing, no reading, no TV; just sit and stare and wish I had the energy to do something else.

There are only two things I hate: Those who are intolerant of other people's cultures... and the Dutch.

2005-03-07T11:29:00.000-05:00

Been really extraordinarily busy this past week. No time to post at all. Don't really even have time now, but I thought I would because of THIS jackass. Gotta eat up some more bandwidth, dontcha know. Yummers!

Saw Austin Powers on TBS this weekend. They played it three times, but I never got to watch the whole thing. Saw most of it, except the opening sequence. It is by no means a good movie, but some of the individual lines and scenes in it are hilarious. And it plays much better on a Sunday afternoon with commercials than it did when I had to pay $7.50 for it in the theatre.

Ken Griffey's Grotesquely Swollen Jaw

2005-02-24T13:33:00.000-05:00

I have a problem.

When I drive to work in the morning, the last song I hear on the radio is inevitably stuck in my head for the rest of the day.

I also have XM Satellite Radio.

Partly due to the above problem, I often listen to the comedy channel or ESPN Radio during the drive into work.

Today I was listening to the comedy channel.

Just before I pulled into the parking lot, they played Talkin' Softball from The Simpsons.

Now I want to claw my eyes out (considering that won't help me hearing songs, I don't know why I'm compelled to do this, but I am).

Well Mr. Burns had done it,
The power plant had won it,
With Roger Clemens clucking all the while,
Mike Scioscia's tragic illness made us smile,
While Wade Boggs lay unconscious on the barroom tile...

We're talkin' softball...
From Maine to San Diego.
Talkin' softball...
Mattingly and Canseco.
Ken Griffey's grotesquely swollen jaw.
Steve Sax and his run-in with the law.
We're talkin' Homer...
Ozzie and the Straw.

We're talkin' softball...
From Maine to San Diego.
Talkin' softball...
Mattingly and Canseco.
Ken Griffey's grotesquely swollen jaw.
Steve Sax and his run-in with the law.
We're talkin' Homer...
Ozzie and the Straw.

(Repeat Second verse until driven into a violent rage or
catatonic).

Milk and Honey

2005-02-23T09:07:00.000-05:00

Moses Sends Scouts into Canaan:

Numbers 13:1-2
GOD spoke to Moses: "Send men to scout out the country of Canaan that I am giving to the People of Israel. Send one man from each ancestral tribe, each one a tried-and-true leader in the tribe."

Numbers 13:17-25
When Moses sent them off to scout out Canaan, he said, "Go up through the Negev and then into the hill country. Look the land over, see what it is like. Assess the people: Are they strong or weak? Are there few or many? Observe the land: Is it pleasant or harsh? Describe the towns where they live: Are they open camps or fortified with walls? And the soil: Is it fertile or barren? Are there forests? And try to bring back a sample of the produce that grows there--this is the season for the first ripe grapes."

Numbers 13:25-28
After forty days of scouting out the land, they returned home. They
presented themselves before Moses and Aaron and the whole congregation of the People of Israel in the Wilderness of Paran at Kadesh. They reported to the whole congregation and showed them the fruit of the land. Then they told the story of their trip: "We went to the land to which you sent us and, oh! It does flow with milk and honey! Just look at this fruit! The only thing is that the people who live there are fierce, their cities are huge and well fortified. Worse yet, we saw descendants of the giant Anak.

Numbers 14:1-3
The whole community was in an uproar, wailing all night long. All the
People of Israel grumbled against Moses and Aaron. The entire community was in on it: "Why didn't we die in Egypt? Or in this wilderness? Why has GOD brought us to this country to kill us? Our wives and children are about to become plunder. Why don't we just head back to Egypt? And right now!"

Numbers 14:11-19
GOD said to Moses, "How long will these people treat me like dirt? How long refuse to trust me? And with all these signs I've done among them! I've had enough--I'm going to hit them with a plague and kill them. But I'll make you into a nation bigger and stronger than they ever were." But Moses said to GOD, "The Egyptians are going to hear about this! You delivered this people from Egypt with a great show of strength, and now this? The Egyptians will tell everyone. They've already heard that you are GOD, that you are on the side of this people, that you are present among them, that they see you with their own eyes in your Cloud that hovers over them, in the Pillar of Cloud that leads them by day and the Pillar of Fire at night. If you kill this entire people in one stroke, all the nations that have heard what has been going on will say, "Since GOD couldn't get these people into the land which he had promised to give them, he slaughtered them out in the wilderness.' "Now, please, let the power of the Master expand, enlarge itself greatly, along the lines you have laid out earlier when you said, GOD, slow to get angry and huge in loyal love, forgiving iniquity and rebellion and sin; Still, never just whitewashing sin. But extending the fallout of parents' sins to children into the third, even the fourth generation. "Please forgive the wrongdoing of this people out of the extravagance of your loyal love just as all along, from the time they left Egypt, you have been forgiving this people."

Got a special mission from Pastor Jim last night at the Core Leadership meeting last night. Since we started meeting several months ago, both Carrie and I have felt like we've just been spinning our wheels as a team, not really going anywhere. And it's difficult to lead the church in anything resembling a direction if you only meet for 90 minutes every month. Then, last night, PJ gave each couple a new mission. Go out and explore our church and the land God has promised us--the church's future. Find out if the future really is a land flowing with milk and honey or if giants walk the land. Recommend if we should go storming in and conquer the land or if we should remain here in the wilderness for a while more.

Essentially, we've finally been given the commision we were called to over a year ago to find the vision and direction for the church.

PJ gave us carte blanche to explore and discover the church as we've never done before. We have been given permission to turn over rocks and look at the worms underneath. We're encouraged to explore the failures and succeses of the past, and chart the course for the future. When we're done, we're to give our findings first to the CLT, then to the congregation as a whole.

If we are to complete this mission effectively, we have to realize that, to an extent, we have been wandering in the wilderness, just as Moses and the Israelites did, for some time. No direction, squabbling between the tribes (ministries), each man doing what is right in his own sight.

Maybe now, we can begin to unify the church the way it's supposed to be done. Maybe we can finally hear, as one body, where God is calling us next.

This is a big deal. There are a lot of things to consider, a lot of places to dig. This is going to requre our full attention for the next two months to chart the course for the next several years.

Developing...

Narcissus

2005-02-22T15:34:00.000-05:00

Okay, just had to add this to the most recent post:

I really enjoy seeing my little entries getting published, even if it's only for me to see and read. I probably enjoy it too much. I get a sick little thrill when the entry has been 'published,' And I invariably view the blog, just to see it again.

I love my writing style. I love reading my writing. I guess that means one of two things: either I'll never be a 'real' writer, because I'm entertained with my own ramblings, or I'm as talented as I think I am.

My guess is I'm just an ass.

Creative Avoidance

2005-02-22T15:30:00.000-05:00

Just checked out the last "Bored" entry. Outside of the fact that I've already prepared for my bible lesson for this Friday, the that entry and this one could be pretty much interchangeable. Don't have anything to do at work. Don't feel like being productive. Don't want to tackle the backlog of bible reading/memorization that's piling up. Don't want to slog through creative stuff I could be doing on one of my other blogs.

I really suffer from inertia. When I don't have anything to do, I really have a hard time finding anything to do. Then, when I seem to have a full-plate, I tend to clean it up and tackle waxing the car afterwards, because I'm in the mood.

Today, I'm not in the mood.

Today, I'm poking around message boards and reading National Geographic.

Today, I'm being fat and lazy.

And bored.

Sunflower Farm: Your Reception Connection

2005-02-21T23:38:00.000-05:00

Carrie had either an obscenely brilliant or obscenely foolhardy idea today while attending a historic barn conference:

Turn our property into a chapel/reception hall. Take out a huge loan (or get investors) to buy up the acreage behind our house and rennovate the barn, then rent the thing out for weddings/receptions. It would keep Carrie at home, tending to her flowers, which is what she always wanted, and would hopefully provide enough income for the two of us. We'd either hire on or partner up with our friends who have specialities in planning, photography, archetecture/design, and catering. It could either be massive, or explode in our faces. We've decided to pray about this for the rest of the year. That's how big this is. We won't be talking to anyone about this anytime soon, either. It's a secret, so don't say anything. Sshh.

Poker Night

2005-02-21T09:32:00.000-05:00

Drew and I had a Poker night Saturday. Drew usually hosts it at his house, but since his wife is preggers, and not doing so well, I hosted it at our house.

Generally, the women evacuate the homestead, but Carrie made herself scarce by working in the library while the rest of us kibbutzed around the kitchen table.

I have to say, it was the most successful evening we've had so far. I think we had a total of eight guys there over the course of the evening, and we played from 6 until after midnight. Let's see, in addition to me and Drew, we had Dave O'Roark, Dave Wilson, Tod Heath, Keith Wong, and D'Amico.

I feel bad for O'Roark. He had to leave early for a late night date with his wife (and a couple of friends, so I sometimes get the feeling that when he does stuff like this with us, this is just his way of pressing the flesh, but that's another entry for another time), but he told us that Easter is definitely still on, even though nobody really wants it to be. He said he had a meeting with Augie and Randy where they decided on the Boot Camp style of production, where we learn the entire show on one weekend, drill it through that week, and produce it the following weekend. Then, on Sunday, he made a final plea to the church for volunteers.

Do I think it will work? Yes, unfortunately. Our church has a long history of stepping up when needed. In this particular case, I don't think anybody really wants them to step up, but I think they will. We have only 500 tickets sold for the event, spread over four performances. That's not good. Personally, I hope that Dave doesn't get the people he needs, so we can close the book on Easter once and for all.

Getting back to poker, even though we didn't play for money, Drew and I made out pretty well. We played two rounds--meaning that we started everyone with $5.00 in chips twice over the course of the night--and by the end of both of them, I had made at least a little profit. Of course, most of the folks we were playing with had to have a cheat sheet in front of them to figure out what they were doing, but it was still fun.

I think the next time we get together, assuming everyone can get there at the same time, we should play tounament style, with a prize at the end. Like, everyone ponies up $5.00 for the prize, and the winner at the end of the night gets a gift certificate for dinner somewhere. I don't know, I'll have to check with the other guys to see if that qualifies as gambling.

One last note: I thought it was ironic that of all the guys that were there, only Tod was from our couples' study. I figured that at least Brad would be there. I'll have to see if I can bring that up next time during our study.

Big Silver Truck

2005-02-21T09:02:00.000-05:00

Carrie and I put a down payment on a big truck yesterday. It was Sunday, and I didn't want to leave the house for church, much less to go shopping for a big truck. Private seller, Ford F-150, automatic transmission, 2 wheel drive, extended cab (so we have back seats), 8-foot bed. It's a nice truck. But, like I said, it was Sunday, and I was sick. I really wasn't in the mood to go truck shopping. We ended up in a deep conversation late in the day.

We had gone to a dealership first, didn't find what we were looking for, and Carrie called the number for a small ad in the Dispatch she had found the day before. Carrie really led the entire project, from the very beginning when we were talking about getting a truck, through the shopping, figuring out what we needed, to finding truck availability and even driving the negotiations. She did the most of the talking. Then, as we were returning the truck to the owner, she asks me to close the deal. But when we get there, she jumps in to do the real closing. It bugged me a little bit, having her ask me to do it, and then not being patient enough to let me do what she asked me to do, but it didn't bother me enough to make a federal case out of it. Besides, I wasn't feeling well, and all I really wanted to do was go home and crawl into bed.

Then, late in the day, long after we had gotten home and I had taken a nice long nap, she asks me if she was wrong to jump in like she did, because she noticed that I was a little peeved at her at the time. I had to admit that I was bugged, but not terribly. Then she gets defensive and says that I was misleading the seller, and she felt the need to jump in to clarify, even though we had decided to buy the truck at the asking price. She and I had to clear the air about that, so that she understood that I do not process things the same way she does, and there was no real reason she had to step up. It simply takes me longer to get my motor started and get moving. Doesn't mean I'm any less in control, I just move more slowly.

I didn't really think about this until later, but she said that she gets really uncomfortable with awkward silences. She said that she had to "wait and wait" for me to say something, either to the salesperson or the truck owner. Now, on my side, maybe it was because I was a little fuzzy around the edges due to the cold medicine, but I felt perfectly capable of doing the negotiations. I wonder if she understands that those awkward silences are good. I saw no reason to say anything, so I didn't say anything. Let the seller fill the silence.

Oh, well. It wasn't that big of a deal, but it does point to the way she and I communicate, and the image we present to others of who is in charge, and who leads the relationship. I may have to share that with her tonight.

Traffic

2005-02-17T08:06:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I have to wonder if the traffic guys for local radio stations do stuff like this on purpose, or if it's just the luck of the draw:

I was listening to a local radio station coming into work this morning, when I heard a commercial for a local tanning salon. The last line of of the ad was this sultry woman's voice saying, "Hottie Body Tan. We bring out your dark side."

The very next thing I hear is one of the local DJs saying, "Everybody loves a Honey-Baked Ham."

If I drank coffee, I would have spit it out.

Mental Health Day

2005-02-16T14:03:00.000-05:00

Stayed home from work today. I have to take days like this every once in a while, when I've been too busy at home. I enjoy vegetating when it's feasable. I play hooky, go to the movies, maybe browse the bookstores. Today I'm just staying home and reading and playing Prince of Persia.

Unfortunatly, Carrie almost never joins me on these days, because she's so loyal to the concept of doing her job. She'd feel too guilty.

I, however, have no such problem for days like this, and I'm enjoying myself.