If I Were President

My 8 year old girl R completed a 1st grade school project, “If I Were President.” It’s a 7 page packet with lead-ins for each panel, and a space for her to add her thoughts and ideas. In 2040, please consider her as you vote for US President.

If I Were President by R

If I were President, the first thing I would do is:
Help everyone. But I would not take money from the rich and give it to the poor. Because the poor did not earn that money.

If I were President, I would eat:
good things like broclie, corn and beons.

If I were President, I would travel to:
Hawaii and Montana.

If I were President, I would have a pet:
dog and cat named Bella and Nickey.

If I were President, I would pass a law that: There would be no bullying! (I guess they don’t teach 1st graders yet that Presidents don’t pass laws).

If I were President, I would help: everyone. (Not just ACORN and the unions. OK- that last bit was mine).

Final Comments: I don’t think I would like to be the President. I think it is too much work! I mean, I would love to help people, but it would not work.

Calling The Kettle Black

For more than 25 years I’ve been sitting at the intersection of faith and entertainment. I approached this joining of two “roads” when I became a huge fan of Larry Norman, Randy Stonehill and Keith Green as a teenager. These three gents did an amazing thing- they joined contemporary music and melody hooks to social commentary and faith messages in a way that challenged and grew me- heart, mind and soul.

This affected me deeply in various ways. It helped mature my faith, made me more self-aware as a follower of Jesus and how I relate and treat others, and also lit a flame inside of me to join in a movement. A growing chorus of artists and fans that were excited to engage faith and the arts at the same time.

I taught myself guitar and piano, and started to write songs. My goal early on was to follow in Keith Green’s artistic footsteps- piano-based pop/rock with lyrics that delivered a compelling and challenging message. As those skills developed it lead me to participate in a rock band during high school and land a gig handling all the music at a Christian youth camp. Fortunately it became clear to me early on that I wasn’t a good enough musician or vocalist to make writing and performing my vocation, but I knew music would remain a key part of my life.

There is no shortage of people that criticize faith-based music and film. One of the chief complaints, from inside and outside the church, is that the art is second rate, and becomes unpalatable when a “message” is shoved into a song or film and spoon fed to the listener or viewer. Another common refrain is that music and film should be more subtle, gently weaving a great story that may have a moral or thickly veiled message that we can draw from. And from outside the church, besides those types of comments, we also hear things like “I hate Christian movies- too preachy, always shoving values and morals down our throats.” And multiple variations of that, far too many to outline here.

There’s also great criticism of the marketing and promotional machines that are Christian music and film companies. That these folks put to much emphasis on packaging and marketing “MESSAGE” versus “ART.”

I’d like to point out a few items that have come to my attention in the last month- namely that some of these same types of people that despise faith-based music and film for using the arts to push a “message” or “agenda,” are genuine, good old-fashioned bona fide hypocrites.

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From the NY Times, May 1st 2009:
“Seeking to Save the Planet, With a Thesaurus“ by John M. Broder

WASHINGTON — The problem with global warming, some environmentalists believe, is “global warming.” The term turns people off, fostering images of shaggy-haired liberals, economic sacrifice and complex scientific disputes, according to extensive polling and focus group sessions conducted by ecoAmerica, a nonprofit environmental marketing and messaging firm in Washington.

Instead of grim warnings about global warming, the firm advises, talk about “our deteriorating atmosphere.” Drop discussions of carbon dioxide and bring up “moving away from the dirty fuels of the past.” Don’t confuse people with cap and trade; use terms like “cap and cash back” or “pollution reduction refund.”

EcoAmerica has been conducting research for the last several years to find new ways to frame environmental issues and so build public support for climate change legislation and other initiatives. A summary of the group’s latest findings and recommendations was accidentally sent by e-mail to a number of news organizations by someone who sat in this week on a briefing intended for government officials and environmental leaders.

Environmental issues consistently rate near the bottom of public worry, according to many public opinion polls. A Pew Research Center poll released in January found global warming last among 20 voter concerns; it trailed issues like addressing moral decline and decreasing the influence of lobbyists. “We know why it’s lowest,” said Mr. Perkowitz, a marketer of outdoor clothing and home furnishings before he started ecoAmerica, whose activities are financed by corporations, foundations and individuals. “When someone thinks of global warming, they think of a politicized, polarized argument. When you say ‘global warming,’ a certain group of Americans think that’s a code word for progressive liberals, gay marriage and other such issues.”
The answer, Mr. Perkowitz said in his presentation at the briefing, is to reframe the issue using different language. “Energy efficiency” makes people think of shivering in the dark. Instead, it is more effective to speak of “saving money for a more prosperous future.” In fact, the group’s surveys and focus groups found, it is time to drop the term “the environment” and talk about “the air we breathe, the water our children drink.”

“Another key finding: remember to speak in TALKING POINTS aspirational language about shared American ideals, like freedom, prosperity, independence and self-sufficiency while avoiding jargon and details about policy, science, economics or technology,” said the e-mail account of the group’s study.

Robert J. Brulle of Drexel University, an expert on environmental communications, said ecoAmerica’s campaign was a mirror image of what industry and political conservatives were doing. “The form is the same; the message is just flipped,” he said. “You want to sell toothpaste, we’ll sell it. You want to sell global warming, we’ll sell that. It’s the use of advertising techniques to manipulate public opinion.”

And, Mr. Luntz and Mr. Perkowitz agree, “climate change” is an easier sell than “global warming.”
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And now to wrap this up, I present to you a few bit of “art” that recently graced the airwaves in an effort to shove a message and morality down our throats:

Watch just the first 2 minutes:



And here we see some of the priests and priestesses preaching the message:



And this is just downright painful to watch. Please- give me a tacky toupee-wearing sleazy televangelist over this tripe... at the end of the clip there's even a segment on confessing eco-sin. Do these people realize they have created a RELIGION?

4 Lunches, 2 Days and Spilt Milk

This week has been quite busy. The kind of week that wreaks the same havoc on my workload as a vacation week. You know the drill- out of the office (either on the beach or in constant off-site meetings morning till night) and knowing there’s an ever growing inbox, snail mail stack, unreturned phone calls and ignored to-do list.

It’s been so crazy trying to fit various meetings in, several of them with out-of-town contacts, that I’ve had to schedule two days with two lunches. On Tuesday it was an 11:30AM lunch at P.F. Changs in Cool Springs (Chicken chopped salad) and then a 1:00PM at Franklin Mercantile (chicken noodle soup). Yesterday it was an 11:30AM lunch at Bricktops in downtown Nashville (Chicken chowder soup) and a 1:00PM at J. Alexander’s in Cool Springs (Thai Kai Salad). I probably put 500 miles on the Suburban this week. The only good thing about that was when I filled it up with gas yesterday it only cost $49 versus the $150 it would have cost just a few months ago.

A funny thing happened while at the lunch meeting yesterday in J. Alexander’s. While waiting for my out-of-town lunch guest I ran into a couple of folks I know. Friend1 (which coincidentally had been one of my lunch meetings on Tuesday), and his father, Friend2. They introduced me to Acquaintance1 (the sister of Friend1 and daughter of Friend2) and her husband, Acquaintance2 (the brother-in-law of Friend1 and son-in-law of Friend2). We chatted for a few minutes and I mentioned I was waiting to meet with a guy named Darren that I had never met face-to-face before. I joked about having to do the whole “Hi, are you Darren?” routine with each guy that walked in the restaurant. They were escorted to their table and I continued to wait.

Darren showed up a few minutes later and after a minute or two of small talk the buzzer in my pocket went off and we were taken to our table. Of course it was right next to the Friend1 and 2’s table. Friend2 saw me and said to my lunch meeting “Hi! You must be Darren.”

Darren was stunned to have been recognized in a strange town by someone he had never met, and was completely confused about what was going on. We sat down and I explained.

As we chatted business through lunch I happened to glance to my left just as Acquaintance2 (the husband/brother-in-law/son-in-law) knocked a full cup of half-and-half off his table. You know those little metal miniature jugs that get filled to the brim with creamer? Seems they had finished with lunch and it was coffee time. The creamer thingy hit the carpeted floor with a soft thud and creamer shot out of it like a stick of dynamite in a shallow pond. Creamer ALL over Friend2’s leg and shoes (the father/father-in-law). No on at the table noticed except of course for Acquaintance2. He looked down at the huge mess all over the floor and his father-in-law and a horrified look came over his face. He looked around his table to see if anyone noticed and no one did. He straightened up and resumed drinking coffee and glanced my way. He saw me looking at him, and the mess, and his eyes went wide. He was caught. But did nothing.

A few minutes went by (while the creamer soaked into Friend2’s pants and shoes and the floor) and the waiter for their table appeared. He gave them the check and then noticed the spilled creamer. He pointed it out and the table was surprised. Acquaintance2 said nothing. Friend2 wondered if maybe he had knocked it off himself, or a passing server had. The mess was cleaned up with no one the wiser but me.

Plastic Poop Problems

Sometimes I wonder if my kids have lost their minds. Can children get so creative, so involved in play and the imaginary worlds they build, that they actually cross over into complete wackness?

And so begins the story of The Velveteen Poop Dog.

A couple years ago when R-girl was about 5 years old, we bought her a little plastic dog covered in that cheap velveteen material meant to feel somewhat like fur. It came with play food to give to the little pup that also ended up on the ground after the dog did it’s business.

It was a novel idea. You load the little food pellets into the dog’s mouth, and when an appropriate amount of time passes, you lift his little tail and the pellets, looking exactly the same as when you put them in, drop out the little dog’s rear end and hit the ground with little plops. Voilà. Dog poop.

Like most toys, it broke quickly, and little R-girl complained that her dog had diarrhea.

“What?” I asked.

“She has diarrhea… when you put the food in her mouth it comes out the butt right away.”

Apparently the lifting-tail mechanism had broken and now the food pellets made a quick trip from the dog mouth to popping out the dog butt in about ½ second, no digesting, no slowing down, no relaxing glass of wine to help the meal settle. Just- plop.

R-girl asked me if I could fix it but I couldn’t. It’s one of those non-serviceable toys (as in, you have to destroy it to get it open).

She came up with her own solution- a doggy diaper held tight with a pony-tail holder.

Mixed Messages From The Cafeteria

Each weekday I get an email update from my daughter K’s high school with various news items, alerts and events for parents to be aware of.

This was the headline of yesterday’s daily update:

ANNOUNCEMENTS: Tuesday Jan. 6th, 2009

FROM THE CAFETERIA: To help with New Year’s resolutions to be healthier, the cafeteria will be helping out.

Very interesting.

I’m not aware that the student body en masse took such a pledge, but maybe they did. Or perhaps it was the school principal or the cafeteria manager? Or maybe the county school commissioner? In any case, it had my attention. The headline was followed by the “meat” of the story:

We are no longer frying anything. All of our fries will be baked.

Interesting. So far, so good… I guess. Baked French fries? What would that be, exactly? Are those also known as baked potatoes? I guess if Lays can bake potato chips, our high school can bake french fries.

The next item in the story confused me though…

We will no longer have individual salt & pepper packets. This is a small part that we can do to help out.

Ok. No individual salt and pepper packets. Perhaps they got this particular item in the wrong update and it was meant for next years “Global Warming Solutions from the Cafeteria” resolution. Looks like the old prank of loosening salt shaker tops may make a come-back.

And finally, right after the health pledge from the cafeteria comes the regular section where they indicate what's on the menu in the cafeteria for that day:

“Come join us for lunch: Baked potato bar, Nacho bar, Pork Patty, Double Cheeseburgers, Green Beans, Cornbread, White Beans”

Oops. So much for healthy new year resolutions from the high school cafeteria.

Scary Santa

Here's my late Christmas post for the season. I was bopping around the internet reading news stories and found quite a funny collection of snapshots showing young children reacting rather badly to being plopped onto Santa's lap and left there with a huge stranger dressed in bright red with a giant white beard holding on to them against their will. It's amazing to me that anyone gets a good picture of a kid with Santa.

Here's a link to the collection:

Scared of Santa!

I posted my favorite one above. Hilarious. I imagine the only better picture would be one of John and Kate plus Eight with all eight kiddies losing their minds at once.

Don’t Make Me Your Escape Goat

One of my favorite bits from Friends was when Joey said “…this is all a moo point.” Unlike some language purists and English professors that get their panties in a wad when people abuse the language, I find it endearing and hilarious. I’ve been guilty myself of mixing metaphors and assaulting analogies.

I know and love my own Joey. A friend of mine just can’t help but have these jumbled word and thoughts pour out of him, and I LOVE to hear them. I never correct him, preferring to keep the opportunity to hear them again in a phone call or meeting. The down side is I find myself actually disengaging from the meat of the conversation and keeping my ear out for the next misused word or phrase.

Some of my recent favorites:

“I’m telling you, they way they’re talking about this project its all gonna get blamed on me. They’ll make me the escape goat and move on to the next thing.”

Yesterday it was this…

“I just said some things that were cuff, whatever popped into my head.”

And while he hasn’t used the classic Joey line exactly, he has said…

"The whole thing is a mute issue. No one wants to talk about it.”

Love him.

Shocking Information About Women’s Restrooms

A few years ago while enjoying a family dinner at one of our favorite area restaurants, J. Alexander’s, I had to excuse myself to make a quick trip to the restroom.

While there, I took a few moments to get caught up on the news. No, I wasn’t relaxing on the porcelain throne reading through the newspaper often tucked into the space between the toilet paper roll and the wall in men’s public restrooms, I was actually standing in front of the, umm, urinal (I can’t find a nicer word).

Conveniently placed in front of the “P” spot (an imaginary little dot straight ahead on the wall in front of urinals where most men stare intently so as to not even CHANCE a stray glance), are various pages of the newspaper. Stall 1 is page 1, stall 2 is sports, stall 3 is business, and so on. Take your pick.

Not every bathroom is the same. Some have a collection of advertisements in front of the P spot (cigars, pick-up trucks, gas grills, sports tickets, all the manly stuff), and some even have televisions tuned to ESPN. A guy doesn’t need to know how many rating stars a restaurant has to judge the quality of the joint- what really matters is whether they care enough to provide something in front of the P spot.

Back to the story… when I came back to the table I told my family about an interesting story I had just read. My wife and girls were fascinated. “Where did you just read the newspaper?” asked one of them. I explained to them about how most men’s restrooms often have reading material in various places. They were flabbergasted and had never heard of such a thing- even my wife. I was amazed that they hadn’t- it was just so normal for men. We just assume women have the same thing in their restrooms.

My wife said once in a while, rarely, there’s one of those mini billboards with multiple ads on the back of the stall door, but that’s about it. Michelle and the girls had no idea there was reading material in front of men’s urinals and they thought it hilarious.

Well… fast forward to last week. I learned something about women’s bathrooms that I had never known, and I would guess a good number of other men don’t either. To say I was flabbergasted is an understatement.

Here it is- it is not uncommon for women or girls to get locked or trapped inside a stall and have to crawl on the floor under the door. Yes, you heard it right.

It turns out, according to my wife and confirmed by all four of my daughters…and two other women I checked with, that every so often women get inside a stall, lock the door, and then can’t get it unlocked. It’s sort of the bathroom equivalent of not being able to get a jar lid open in the kitchen without help.

While it’s more common in young girls, it happens occasionally to older kids and adults as well. I was told also that every so often a woman will go to open a stall, find it locked, notice there’s no one in it, and know exactly what happened- “Oh. Someone got stuck in there and had to crawl out under the door.”

My wife said one of the most horrible experiences she’s had (not including the incredible incident that took place at a gas station this summer while on our family road trip) was when she got trapped in a stall whose walls and door came down to within an inch or two of the floor. Horror.

Team Lifting at Target

Last night Michelle and I went Christmas shopping to wrap up most of the final gifts on our list. Afterwards we debated and disagreed on a spot for dinner. Back and forth we went- Thai, Chinese, Alexander’s, Logan’s and more. In a fit of frustration I suggested McDonalds and Michelle agreed. I headed that way until she realized I was serious and called me off.

We ended up at the local pub for a burger and beer. I was so hungry at that point I could care less where we ate.

Our shopping excursion was at Target and we about broke the bank. One of the items we bought is classified by Target as a “team lift.” This means 2-4 people, depending on the weight of the item, are required by company policy to help lift the item off a shelf or sales floor. This particular item listed the proper number as 3.

I asked for help getting the large and weighty item off the shelf and to the front of the store for check-out. A petite clerk answered my call from help (one of those “I need help” buttons in the aisle at Target I love so much. I’m working up the nerve one day to push the button and when help arrives, ask them for career advice). She saw what I wanted to buy and went to get more help. In a few minutes the petite clerk arrived with a flat-bed cart and one other short female clerk.

Now this items weighs at least 250 pounds. As they leaned in to lift it up I jumped in to help.

“Sir, you can’t lift this, it’s against store policy- we’ll take care of it”

So there I stood… a large and relatively strong man, watching as two little ladies struggled with everything they had to lift the item. I felt like a union boss or a construction supervisor.

As they lifted it (well, it sort of fell off the low shelf as they grabbed on for dear life to keep it from falling on them and ending their short lives) I noticed the back was totally scratched up. I asked for the other one that was behind it.

They had to move the original one they removed from the shelf nearby and lean it up against a wall while they struggled to get the second one on the cart. After several minutes and just a few life-ending close calls, they succeeded.

These girls have a great future in commercial and residential moving.

Digital Fur

This morning I changed my Google home page theme. I’ve had Coldplay “Viva La Vida” as my theme since early this past summer and it just starting getting old. I opted for the new “theme of the day” selection knowing each new morning I’ll have a little surprise to look forward to.

As soon as I clicked “add this theme” my new iGoogle page was redesigned by Dolce & Gabbana… out with the Coldplay, in with the leopard skin. Imagine that- a fancy European designer yet again exploiting animals for profit.

It looks interesting, and though I don’t like it much I know it will be gone tomorrow. What I’m wondering though is this… how do extremist animal rights people view digital animal products?

I’ve seen leather texture files for designers, and of course all kinds of other images online. I did an image search on Google (“animal skin textures”) and got over 200K pages. What is a radical to do?

I see a whole new fundraising angle for PETA here. Imagine, hiring Chinese or Russian hackers to use Photoshop and airbrush blood on various image files at photobucket.com, shutterstock.com or istockphoto.com. Keeping tabs on celebrity blogs and sites and launching huge protests if Lindsay Lohan or Rosie O'Donnell use a zebra skin border on their blog. They can place banner ads on various sites and seek donations to help stop the gratuitous use of animals on the internet and in print. Let the cash continue to roll for PETA folks!

Are Worship Leaders Performers?

The purpose of a worship leader and worship band should be, in my opinion, to produce a beautiful background symphony to our personal and corporate praise to God.

On a few occasions I get distracted by what appears to be a Bono wannabe performing during worship. I find my mind wandering, wondering what in the world the goofball is trying to do or be, and then- times up- and I realize I never did enter into a focused time of worship.

I found this great quiz on a neighbor blog (http://stufffchristianslike.blogspot.com/) that I thought perfectly captured the essence of the distracting worship leader.

I’m guessing any score above a 30 is troublesome. Enjoy.

Does your worship leader…

1. Have a faux hawk hair style? (+1)
2. Have more product in his hair than your wife? (+1)
3. Have Rob Bell style black rimmed glasses? (+1)
4. If the glasses are not prescription, but just for effect add (+2)
5. Attend the Catalyst Conference? (+3)
6. Perform at the Catalyst Conference? (+10)
7. Own Puma, Vans or Diesel sneakers? (+2 per pair)
8. Wear jeans on stage? (+1)
9. Wear designer jeans on stage? (+2)
10. Wear Wrangler or Rustler jeans on stage? (-3)
11. Have a goatee? (+2)
12. Wear one of those Castro revolution looking hats? (+2)
13. Drink coffee on stage? (+1)
14. Drink some kind of coffee you did not know existed? (+2)
15. Bring a French Press on stage and make his own coffee during service? (+5)
16. Have a handlebar mustache? (-3)
17. Play Frisbee but hates getting all "sweaty?” (+1)
18. Have a haircut that covers one of his eyes while singing? (+1)
19. Own a white belt? (+2)
20. Own suspenders? (-3)
21. Wear a scarf with a t-shirt? (+1)
22. Wear a winter knit hat even in the summer? (+2)
23. Ever cover My Chemical Romance songs? (+3)
24. Drive an Audi or VW, silver of course? (+2)
25. Use the words, "postmodern, relevant" or "emergent?” (+2)
26. Cringe a little when people say the "H word?" (Hymnal) (+3)
27. Ever said some form of the phrase, "That song is so 1990s?” (+1)
28. Own a Grizzly Adams red and black flannel shirt? (-2)
29. Have a child named after a fruit, color or number? (+2)
30. Reference Norwegian punk bands you've never heard of? (+2)
31. Wear a tie? (-1)
32. Wear a tie as a belt? (+2)
33. Look as if he might exfoliate? (+2)
34. Have a man bag or European Carry All? (+2)
35. Bring said bag on stage with him? (+2)
36. Have a tattoo? (+2)
37. Have a visible tattoo? (+4)
38. Wife accompany him on stage and play tambourine? (-4)
39. Have experience playing in a punk new wave band? (+2)
40. Know the names of all the people on the scripted MTV show, "the Hills?" (+3)
41. Refuse to drink anything but Vitamin Water? (+2)
42. Cause your wife to ever say, "he needs a barrette for his hair"? (+2)
43. Have a nickname with "the" in it, as in "the edge?" (+2)
44. Own every Nooma video? (+2)
45. Have a soul patch? (+3)
46. Refuse to play barefoot on stage until he gets a pedicure? (+2)
47. Refer to California as "the left coast?" (+2)
48. Currently subscribes to Dwell or Details magazine? (+2)
49. Own a pair of lady jeans? (+2)
50. Twitter you from his iPhone? (+2)
51. Have a toddler that dresses cooler than you? (+2)
52. Wear graphic t-shirts over button down, long sleeve shirts? (+2)
53. Ever say "we got a hot mic here"? (-4)
54. Shop at the Gap? (0)
55. Shop at Urban Outfitters? (+2)

The highest possible score is 107.

Feeling Like An Outsider In Your Hometown

This morning I made the 5 minute journey to Hillsboro Elementary and Middle School for the annual thanksgiving lunch for parents and their kids.

For a mere $5.00 you get a Styrofoam plate with scoops of turkey, stuffing and gravy, green beans, a roll, chocolate milk and a mini-pumpkin pie. And each year I take one bite and throw the rest away. At least you get to spend a few minutes with your kids during the school day.

Like most schools, we have to sign in as visitors when visiting and get a little VISITOR sticker so we don’t get stopped by the school police officer (who has actually busted my wife once for forgetting the sticker and sent her back to the office).

After lunch, I stopped by Puckett’s for some lunch. The kind I could actually eat. It’s halfway between the school and home and is a frequent stop for a bite to eat, some groceries, or a fill-up at the gas pumps out front.

I took the chance to have a nice draft beer with my meat and two (brats with onions and peppers, mashed potatoes, green beans) since I work out of my home and my company policy, which I wrote, does not address consuming alcohol during the work day or on company property.

When I finished I stood up to throw away the trash and couldn’t spot the large garbage can that usually sits between the dining area and grocery store at Puckett’s (If your ever in the Nashville area, make the trip to Leiper’s Fork or Franklin for a burger or pork BBQ platter at Puckett's - it’s worth the trip for the food and ambiance). I stood there for a second looking for what had become of the garbage can when the gent sitting next to me offered some kind help:

“The garbage is right over there next to the drink station.”

And then the truly perplexing question this nice guy asked:

“Do you need directions anywhere?”

Hmm. I answered no, and headed out to the car. I was confused for a second as to why I was asked this question but quickly forgot about it. As I pulled into my garage a few minutes later and unbuckled my seatbelt, I noticed the sticker still on my shirt. Visitor.

Crazy Girls

I have four daughters. They are all insane. The evidence?

Exhibit A: Video evidence

Exhibit B: They all said it was ok for me to post this video.


I love them dearly, but they sure can be goofballs. And I love that about them too.

Facebook Phenomenon

I signed up with Facebook a few months ago when my oldest daughter said she wanted a Facebook page. I told her I’d check it out for a few days and report back to her.

It was easy to set-up, load my profile pic, connect with friends, and start getting inundated with mostly insignificant up-to-the-minute updates from hundreds of people.

I’ve found LinkedIn to be a great resource for professional networking and have even made a few business deals or at least connected the dots on deals through this site. Facebook on the other hand is most assuredly not professional.

To put it into a high school analogy, LinkedIn is the classroom and Facebook is the hallway between classes. Loud, crazy, chaotic. A pinball existence where the ball launch is the start of the day (with people posting at 5AM “I’m up!” or “Going for a run” or even “I’m not feeling well so I’m going to stay home from work and rest between trips to the bathroom”), and immediately the inane comments and updates begin.

If you remember back to the atmosphere of those few minutes between each class in the high school hallway you’ll faintly recall the randomness of comments, yells, the bumping into people and dropping books, the hand-holding and the quick conversations and news updates about where to hang after school or who’s gonna fight who. It’s a blur.

Just like Facebook.

In the last 15 hours I’ve learned the following about my Facebook connections (and this is only about ¼ of the total status updates):

…is up drinking the java (whats so new about that), and writing one of the last chapters of the long overdue book
…thought she was getting up late, but then realized she has an extra hour today
…has odd halloween candy
…had a wonderful dream that Rick Leach was the new coach at Tennessee
…is getting ready for church
…is happy for the time change finally!
…is awake....not sure why
…is saying iPod lives again! I won't have to run in silence!
…It was nice to have the extra hour's worth of sleep. And I'll be able to run in the daylight.
…Front row at concerts - awesome! Front row at the movies - not so good.
…hangin with cody at pizza place.
…is wondering if she will ever learn to make pumpkin cookies that halfway resemble pumpkins.

…is full from soup, football and friends....what a night.
…is so grateful that we get an extra hour tonight...and that the fall fest was a hit.
…is tired...tired....tired...and is deep in the southlands of Alabama.
…misses Halloween already.
…is setting the clocks back. I love this day!
…is typing.
…is laying in his hammock at the end of an amazing day w/ his III chickens...and just heard a COW moowing!
…study study study!
…is having a fire and smores with the ones I love.
…is all dressed up and ready to go.12 hours ago - Comment
…is paying bills.
…is cleaning out my closet and drawers...what a fun Sat.
…is takin' it easy tonight
…Our house has been invaded by ladybugs. There are hundreds on the windows and sills.
…is on her way home to grill some Costco steaks for dinner with John!
…is stuck in a dress and had to bend in crazy ways to get the security tag off so i could get out of the dress.
…is watching Curious George again and again and again.
…is getting ready to eat lasagna and watch Psycho when Aidan goes to sleep.
…I've procrastinated as long as I can. I need to process 66 emails, then pack for Chicago. I have a flight out in the morning.

And the most interesting that would most certainly be categorized as “too much information”

…is slinking off to bed with wife in tow.

I have Facebook in my “Start The Day” Internet Explorer tab/group. Every morning I click the group and about 15 pages pop up on tabs for my morning read/update time. Facebook is now off the list. I think a 2 times a week glance is about right.

Crazy Dog People

Next month our family will finally enter the world of dog owners. We’ve fought it off for many years but the war is over. I’ve lost.

I do love dogs. I’ve had a total of four dogs in my life. Chocolate (killed by a neighbor with a shotgun when he pooped in his yard one too many times), Smokey (a gorgeous Dalmatian who we gave up when we moved to Hawaii), Daisy (died of old age after a happy life) and Ringo (ditto).

The reason I pushed hard against dog ownership as an adult is two-fold. One- at least two of our four kids have bad allergies. Two- much more selfish… we have a nice home, and the thought of a dog fouling rugs, scratching wood and doors and other mischief is bothering me greatly.

We have a family tradition though- and that is when each child reaches 13 years old, they get to choose their hearts desire for their gift. Anything in the world (with certain rules and restrictions you can read about here).

L turned 13 in June, and her choice? A puppy.

We’ve all been warming to the idea. It took a couple months for L to choose the breed she wanted (Yorkie), and find the right breeder and puppy. We landed on a cutie earlier this month and the deposit has been paid. We pick up Bella (or Brooklyn, or Piper, or whatever other name L thinks about between now and then) later in November. I have prepared myself for the new family member. I am starting to even look forward to it.

Until just now.

I have been at Panera Bread outside of Indianapolis for 2 hours now getting work done while waiting for my first film of the day to start. I’m attending the Heartland Film Festival as part of my work for Sony and have a few hours to kill before the “work” day begins.

For 90 minutes of that two hours I have been treated to a NON-STOP barrage of chit-chat between a mother (appears to be in her fifties) and her daughter (mid-twenties) about their dogs. It’s nauseating. I use the present tense because ITS STILL GOING ON AS I’M WRITING.

I now know the following about these two ladies dogs: diet, medical conditions, medical treatment, other dogs in the neighborhood (by name) they like to play with, toys, tv shows they like, clothing, what mom and daughter did (with their dogs) on vacation this summer, where the dogs sleep, what they do during the day, how excited they are when their respective owners get home, the condition of their fur and teeth, how cute they are in the morning, where they sleep (“she’s so cute…she crawls up under the electric blanket between my legs and licks my knees, blah, blah, blah”). The attached photo was JUST taken showing these two going at it with this blog entry being written on the screen to the right.

I’m going insane.

A warning to L and my lovely wife Michelle- if you turn into these two ladies I’m going to build a guest house on our land and move in there.

Moving To Canada

Ah... the fun of surfing the net and finding funny video files. Here's one for the "if McCain wins I'm leaving America" crowd. Of course, as Alec Baldwin proves- they never do.

Harry Potter and the Accent of English

Anyone can tell you the often quoted “Would you like a cup of tea?” is the timeless favorite line for anyone attempting a fake English accent. Or is that British accent? Hmm.

Anyway, it’s shocking how many Americans just love a good proper English lilt. I know growing up I wanted a girl that sounded like a London girl to be my wife. I often hear girls talk about how great guys from London or Manchester sound. It seems a guy with a great Brit accent automatically starts on the 1-10 hottie scale at level 6 before you even get a look at ‘em.

The popularity of Harry Potter films have altered the course of American kids attempts at sounding like they’re from the old country. Replacing the polite offer of a fine early gray steaming from the kettle are the simple words “Harry, ” or “Hermione.” Just short enough to allow any kid to sound faintly authentic.

Our youngest, R, is often attempting to sound like a Brit. She tried out her new phrase on the family and didn’t understand why we all cracked up:

“Hello, my name is R and I’m from British.”

There’s Never A Cop Around When You Need One

Or so I’ve always thought. Friday night it turned out there was.

I spent last week in Los Angeles, working at my office (or more accurately, cubicle) out on the west coast. I had a great week pulling off a major presentation in front of a large group of sales execs, a multitude of meetings and discussions moving projects forward, and of course my regular working dinners (reading scripts) at my fave Culver City restaurants. Those would be Sakura House, Beechwood and Thai Dishes (for their amazing Kang Ka Rhee Chicken).

I arrived home to the Nashville airport courtesy of Southwest airlines about 30min later than the planned arrival time. Picked up my car and jetted home for what I hoped would be an hour of relaxation before I had to pick up my oldest daughter at church after midnight (she was at a youth group music jam/root beer party).

As soon as I walked in the door K called to say the party was a bust and she wanted me to pick her up early. So, back in the car with barely time for a bathroom break, and off I went for the one hour round-trip departing my garage at 11PM.

As I drove through downtown Franklin I spotted a couple kids standing in the parking lot behind Starbucks. Or more accurately, spotted a couple teenagers with dropped trousers peeing onto the Starbucks wall/back door in the parking lot. Disgusting. Right in the open with bright parking lot lights bathing them in accusatory shades of flickering yellowish fluorescent luminosity. I thought about how fun it would be to be a policeman right then and surprise them in the act. There’s never a cop around when you need one.

And then, at that moment, as I looked back to the road in front of me, I saw Mike approaching in the opposite lane.

Mike is my sister-in-law’s boyfriend. And, a Franklin city police officer. I rolled down my window in a split second and wildly pointed with my left hand towards the Starbucks parking lot. Mike saw me, recognized me, smiled, and then saw my finger pointing to his right. As I drove by slowly I saw the back of his cruiser as he stopped in the parking lot entrance, and the mean look on his face as he got out of his cruiser and yelled “what the h*** are you boys doing?”

Ha!

I picked up K and told her what happened. We both hoped the scene would still be playing out when we drove by on the way home. And it was… in grand fashion. There were 4 police cars with lights flashing and two teenagers looking mighty sorry. Found out this morning that Mike was forgiving enough not to arrest them for public indecency and urinating in public, but did have both boys call their fathers to have them picked up in the parking lot, with a regiment of policeman watching, and pointing out to the dads the wet spots on the Starbucks wall.

Pretty fun night.

Teasing Hair

Last night I was doing some last minute errand running in preparation for a trip next week. This included buying a pair of shoes, some clothes, and of course the pre-big meeting haircut. I decided to go to one of the salons in the mall so I could take care of everything in one place in a couple hours.

I walked into MasterCuts in the Cool Springs Galleria Mall and found found a stylist available to cut my hair right away. As I sat down and she asked me how I wanted it cut, I told her the details of how my hair has been cut for the last, oh- I don’t know, 7 years. That’s the thing about being a man over 35- you freeze your hairstyle about that time and stick with it until the day you die.

My hairstyling request seemed very interesting to her. I had asked for a razor cut. She told me that not many men ask for razor cuts, much less know what they are or that they exist. I like them because they create a smooth look with minimal choppiness that comes from scissors cutting locks of hair at a time.

She asked me questions about where I usually get my hair cut, who does it, and when my last cut was. Which was, I told her, about 4 weeks ago.

“Wow- you’re hair really grows quick!” she said as she ran her fingers through my wild hair that needed tonight’s cut very badly.

A funny thought ran through my head- I had some serious facial stubble going… the early marks of a decent beard since I hadn’t shaved in 4 days or so.

I said “Yeah… it really does. Check out my face- I just shaved this morning.”

“No way! That’s amazing! I’ve never seen someone’s facial hair grow that quick. I've heard about it, but never seen it. “

She went on and on- even told the older lady behind me that was getting a color treatment. I never told her it was a joke.

Bug Sounds And Bats

Today was a wonderfully pleasant day.

It started out a bit off-center for me as my suggestion to have our Sunday school class start a Nooma film and discussion series was met with approval from our two class leaders. They liked the idea and asked me to lead it. Today was the first day- we watched Rain 001 and chatted about the film and its message for more than an hour.

After church we headed to Sportsmans Grill for lunch and then home for some time in the pool. I cleaned all the charred grass from my mower and then pressure washed a few things before taking a dip.

After several hours we decided to grill some bratwurst for dinner and eat outside. As we wrapped up dinner and the sun was setting, our nearby bat colony came out for dinner. Sometimes we can see 10 or more swooping through the air eating bugs. We love them since they keep the mosquito population near zero even though we have a creek on one side of our property, and a river back behind us.

Our 6 year old R asked an interesting question as we let dinner settle and watched the bats. “If we make a sound like a bug, will the bats come and bite us?”