Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Marc Cohn is a Name You've Never Heard


Am I right?

It may be that you have never heard the name Marc Cohn. He wrote a song by the name of "Walking in Memphis." Now you know him. Well you don't know him, but you know of him. Or perhaps just heard about him.

Anywhore.

What you need to do is purchase his self-titled album. If you like 70s singer songwriters (Elton John, Jackson Browne, etc.) you'll dig this guy. A very American sound with some deep roots. I encourage you to at least listen to the rest of this guys stuff. Don't you love when the supposed "one-hit wonders" end up having absolutely fantastic careers? (cough Hanson cough yes cough I said cough Hanson and yes cough I can back it up cough)

I'm going to The Long Winters show here in Seattle at UW tomorrow and will most likely write here about it. I'll say this much about The Long Winters: if there's any modern band doin' the pop/rock thang (yea, thAng) correctly, it's these guys.

Saturday, November 25, 2006

Thanksgiving

She sort of shuffled in unannounced with her hair tucked under a beanie. The family was gathered in the kitchen either helping or watching all of the cooking happen.

"There are too many people in this kitchen," said Grandma with disgust. "I can't focus on my gravy!" The room quietly filtered a bit as people moved slowly into the small dining area adjacent to the kitchen. She entered the kitchen removing her beanie but after the bellowing cry of Grandma, inched away. Her blond, almost white hair fell on to her shoulders as her innocent childish eyes focused toward the food. She was holding something in her palm gently. Mom had given her a savvy death glare that spoke loud and clear telling the little girl to back up. Aunt Lily was working her spells on the mashed potatoes as Uncle Larry carved the turkey with ultimate care. From across the room Grandpa looked on in disgust.

"Oh now how do you expect us to even eat that, you've cut it in to shreds."

Uncle Larry held in his ultimate anger for Grandpa, but thought the most ugly thoughts in his mind. How 'bout your brains in shreds Gramps? He knew he was an awful person, but no one else really did. Uncle Larry continued on the turkey taking his sinful thoughts out on the bird. He wasn't really angry, he just was tired, and badly wanted to eat. Yeah, he was starving, that's all. But Uncle Larry knew deep down in his heart that the reason he held so much angst against poor Grandpa was because Grandpa had beaten him in an arm wrestling match four Thanksgiving's ago. Uncle Larry took the challenge as a way to have fun with his Father-in-law, until mid way through the match when the competitive spirits of both of the men got the best of them. Grandpa won the match in the end and hardly ever mentions it because he knows Larry is very aware he lost to an eighty two year old man.

Whatever, he thought. Doesn't matter, it was a long time ago and I would take him now since I started playing handball at Bally's. Yea, handball is demanding. C'mon Gramps. He caught himself staring at Grandpa for an irregular amount of time and went back to the turkey. His concentration was broken when the little girl in the beanie, his daughter May, made this announcement:

"I want to give a gift to everyone because I am so thankful." Her child-like words filled the family with pleasure. This is something you want to happen on Thanksgiving. The children always tell the truth, they are so honest and loving. Yes, this is beautiful, we should capture this moment. Dad reached for his camera in a very sly, but quick fashion.

"Everyone in this family have been so sweet to me, and I want to give everyone this gift before we eat." She was such a sweetie. Mom whispered something like, "how precious," to Grandma as Grandma stirred the gravy. Before anyone could say anything to her, the child's hands opened and an enormous frog leapt from her palm and on to the counter. Aunt Lily let out a shriek as the young boys laughed and little May ran for the living room. The adventurous reptile took bounds from the turkey to the cranberries and over to the salad making his final leap into the gravy Grandma had been stirring so tenderly.

"Kill it!" screamed Grandma, and Uncle Larry ran over with the electronic knife. He stuck the knife in the gravy which sent an electrical shock through his body causing the frog to make a sort of supernatural jump into Grandma's cleavage. Uncle Larry hit the floor with such immense power that little cousin Alexia levitated just for a moment. Grandma threw her shirt off screaming for help and ordering Mom to call 911. The entire room flew in to a panic except for Grandpa who was laughing hysterically. He was the only one who found humor in the situation and couldn't do anything because of his surrender to his laughter.

The frog was now on the ground and it was May who came back in to the room after hearing the thud of Uncle Larry. She scooped up the frog and began to head for the door. But on her way out she slipped, there was a small leaf that made its way in the house and her feet flew out from under her. The surprise of the fall loosened her grip and the frog was once again loose. It was Dad who decided to take charge of this situation. He had never been one for heroic acts, but seemed to be the only man left for the job of killing this beast. He ran for the frog and chased it toward the door. It was beginning to escape but thought, he must kill it, and took off his slipper. It all happened in slow motion in his memory: taking off the slipper, throwing it over-hand like a baseball or a hatchet straight for the reptile which was hopping away. It was a perfect shot. except for the fact that little May was just getting up at the time of his release. The slipper pummeled her in the back of the head causing her to fall once again to the floor as the frog leapt out the front door and down the steps.

They wouldn't let the frog ruin their Thanksgiving. It couldn't happen. And once the family literally came to, it was Dad who said grace. His first Thanksgiving grace, awarded to him for his valiant efforts of saving the meal. They threw out the gravy and the potatoes, but decided to keep the turkey and the cranberries because it was all they had of it. As Dad prayed Grandpa caught the eye of little May who was smiling from ear to ear. He winked at her and then shut his eyes slowly. She knew she had done something special, and even after the spankings she was about to get, she decided that it was worth it. Her childish mind told her so, and came to the conclusion that Thanksgiving maybe wasn't so bad after all.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

The House in Irvine and the End of the World


When my family lived in the house in Irvine, my brother Scott and I would spend the majority of our summer in the backyard playing basketball or baseball. My earliest memories were created here. We were living in a very small house, a humble home with two bedrooms and one bath. Our “backyard” was more just like a massive pile of rocks and dust. The dry California summers would murder the ground we played on. After basketball got old, Scotty and I would make up different games to play. Being so young, our imaginations were wild, but our creativity was limited.

There was a large wall that ended our “yard.” Scott and I had no idea what was on the other side of the wall, and to be honest, I never remember wanting to know. One day, we made up a game where we just chucked rocks over this wall and listened to the sound they made as they hit the other side. This was our way of finding out what was over the wall. I remember Scott telling me that nothing was on the other side of the wall, that if we were to look over, we would see nothing. “The world ends on the other side,” he would say with authority. I wanted only to believe him. I tested his hypothesis by throwing one of the dry rocks over the cusp. A quick thud ended the life of Scott’s misinformed theory. Ah ha. I looked over at Scott. He looked back at me in pure, childish astonishment. “I have no idea what that was,” he said slowly. This surprised me and I became suspicious. I bent down and grasped another hot stone from the ground of our property. I gave it a good throw, this time farther – to make sure I didn’t just hit the other side of the wall.

This time, the sound that came from the opposite side was different. It was more defined and real. What…? I looked over again at Scott. He just gazed ahead with massive intensity, as if to be looking though the wall. While continuing to stare at the wall, Scott knelt down and picked up a good-sized rock. He threw the rock over with grace and maturity. The sound that echoed into the sky and over the wall to our ears was all too familiar. Just as the sound before it, he threw it about the same distance as I did. I was happy with myself. There is no greater joy than being equal to an older brother. I kept looking at him, waiting for him to explain everything – it was as if he knew what was going on and not filling me in just for his own enjoyment of suspense.

We began throwing rocks one after another with each hand and with no accuracy just to hear the different sounds. One sound was quite clear and poignant, but we had no idea what it was hitting. I thought for the longest time that I was hitting some sort of spacecraft or UFO, the sound was like some sort of tin or thin metal. I truly believed every word my brother said, and was developing a complete trust in the fact that this is where the world ended.

Then, a voice. It was loud, booming and god-like. Our parade of throwing was ceased as the voice grew louder and before we knew it a man hoisted himself above the barrier! He was Hercules! Adam! God Himself! His face was stern and our two small bodies became stiff and still. As he spoke, he warned us of what we were doing, asking us if we knew what we were hitting. “No,” we both said almost simultaneously. “You’re hitting my truck,” he said frankly. I was a ghost, completely frigid. My bones seemed to freeze as my blood halted inside my body. He has a flying truck...The only thing that moved was my mind – wild with curiosity and wonder. He must be able to fly too. Hercules sat hoisted on the ledge of the cliff to the end of the world like he was just out for a day trip. I can’t remember a single word he said after that. Something about telling our parents if we were to throw rocks off the edge of the earth again. When he finally let off, there was no sound after that. No shoes hitting the gravel, no shutting of a truck door, no sound. As my brother and I walked back in to the house I had so many questions. My little mind began pulsing.

“Do you think – ?”
“Shut up.”

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Wii are the Champions


So if you thought I had enough with the play on words, you were wrong. I've decided that "Wii" is just a great word to say all the time.

College is all about finding free fun, and when your friends are die hard Nintendo fans and wish to camp outside of a Target to get the 16th and 17th systems...well, you really don't have to search very far.

After staying up the whole night listening to the young and old of the Target line talk about Nintendo and how much Play Station 3 sucks, I realize that I don't regret going along. Sean and Daniel proved to be the best partners to urban camp with, and I guess if I had to put the night into one word it would be intense.

After about four hours of sitting in the cold up against the white grate, I thought I should check out Target to see if I could spend my $30 gift card. Thank you Uncle Dave. Immediately upon walking in, my Target lighting allergies began acting up. I pressed on into the electronics section which was strangely in the front of the store. That's weird. Don't they usually put that in the back? Maybe in the corner. But not in the fr - Yes. Decemberists new disc. I had to snag it. Yes, it was ten dollars. So I slowly make my way over to the gaming section to get a preview as to what this whole Wii thing was about. This is because about two hours into our urban camping adventure I realized I had no idea what the Wii was all about.

I watched a woman on a flat screen tell me that the Wii was a "family opportunity" and got lost in her words. Before I knew it there was a voice behind me:

"No controllers yet huh?"
"What?"
"They don't have controllers released yet, do they?" said the voice.

I turned around to catch the glimpse of who I would be later introduced to as Jason. He had conglomerated light-blue dyed hair stuffed under a Batman eared beanie. He was smiling at me while he said this and I got a very clear look at the gaps in between his teeth and his stiff, fixated glasses.

"No," I said plainly. "I don't think they come out until tomorrow, you know, with the system."
"Oh, right, totally."
There was a small silence. Until he said:
"I think I'm going to check out around the ba - Oh. my."
He paused and sort of looked past me, behind my back. He was gazing in the distance as if hypnotized, completely still. I turned to see what he was entranced with. The Wii stood encased in a glass square, lit with a blue ember beneath it. The system looked god-like. It seemed to stand taller, mightier, and almost projected a sort of aura. Jason was pulled immediately to it, reaching his hands out towards the mighty Wii. Bat-ears J embraced it, breathing heavily as he rubbed the glass. I looked at my shoes.

"Oh wow. Oh. Wow." he breathed.

There was another silence as he paused, slowly looked toward me and whispered;

"You can...almost...taste it..."

My face changed instantly from discomfort to what I can only describe it as, "hella-scared." I can't remember if I responded or just left, but the next thing I remember I was outside of the target and breathing heavily.

Saturday, November 18, 2006

Wii are doing it!


If you don't know what they hell that means, let me explain. On Sunday, November 19th Nintendo will release its new creation for gamers, the Wii. On yes, that means a whole new slew of Mario and Zelda. I guess it also means I'm sleeping at Target tonight.


Two gentlemen from my floor here at the university (I feel like a prick for saying that, but I also don't care) want to purchase one of these systems. And since I love adventure, tonight I will be sleeping at the Target at Northgate here in Seattle Washington. But guess what, I have no money! So that means I'm just a moral support and watching my two buddies spend some hard earned cash.

I think I'll pick up some detergent while I'm there.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

What We See Created By What We Don't See

Faith is the subject of a new small group I helped start at Seattle Pacific University. It's an incredibly broad subject but gives us a lot of room to play with.

The Bible teaches us that faith is being sure of what we hope for an certain of what we do not see. The book of Hebrews gives us an incredible insight to this subject and leaves us in awe of what we have to do in order to "keep the faith." Hebrews 11:6 says that "without faith it is impossible to please God." If it is impossible to please Him without faith, then shouldn't we discipline ourselves in our faith lives? This is also the most difficult idea in Christianity because it all has to do with what we do not know. While it makes sense theologically, in a practical mindset, it can drive one crazy. The reason it is impossible to please our Creator without faith is because without faith, there is not relationship with Him. You see, he is the unknown, and while he could open the skies and show his face to all of us he wishes not to. This is because he gave man free will in the Garden of Eden (Gen 2, 3). We must realize that our gift of free will is one that is to be taken with extreme care. Free will created faith, giving us the opprotunity to trust or ignore God. The fact that a Creator loved us so much that he would initially let us do whatever the hell we wanted to do on this earth is pretty dang loving. He's not called "abounding in love" for nothing.

This initial act of love he showed to humanity is very telling of His character. I will never understand why He didn't make things easier and just make us robots (like our friends the plants) and have us be God worshipping machines, but I think He really loves you and me.

Faith is all about accepting this reality and then joining it. God is alive - He is present and active - faith lets us adore the unseen.

The ((Unforced)) Rhythms of Grace

Next Jesus let fly on the cities where he had worked the hardest but whose people had responded the least, shrugging their shoulders and going their own way.
"Doom to you, Chorazin! Doom, Bethsaida! If Tyre and Sidon had seen half of the powerful miracles you have seen, they would have been on their knees in a minute. At Judgment Day they'll get off easy compared to you. And Capernaum! With all your peacock strutting, you are going to end up in the abyss. If the people of Sodom had had your chances, the city would still be around. At Judgment Day they'll get off easy compared to you."

Abruptly Jesus broke into prayer: "Thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth. You've concealed your ways from sophisticates and know-it-alls, but spelled them out clearly to ordinary people. Yes, Father, that's the way you like to work."

Jesus resumed talking to the people, but now tenderly. "The Father has given me all these things to do and say. This is a unique Father-Son operation, coming out of Father and Son intimacies and knowledge. No one knows the Son the way the Father does, nor the Father the way the Son does. But I'm not keeping it to myself; I'm ready to go over it line by line with anyone willing to listen.

"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly."

~Matthew 11:20-30

Eugene Peterson translated the Bible under the name "The Message." He went back to the original Greek and Hebrew. The man graduated out of Seattle Pacific University with an English major. He's quite the dude and he was a huge influence on me choosing to step into this decorated English program. This translation is fresh and accurate, giving it to us in our vernacular. Thanks Eugene (wow you really can't shorten his name...Gene maybe?...yeah, Gene)