where I've been

I wish I could post a picture here, showing you the grandeur of all that was my ski trip in the Colorado Rockies, but given my current computer/internet/camera status, that won't be happening (yet). More on my current situation at the end of this post. First, skiing.

I've spent that past few days doing one of the very few things in life that I'm decent at: snow skiing. From Keystone to Vail to Breckenridge, I've worked hard at conquering each mountain, one run at a time. Keystone: conquered. Vail: too big to conquer. Breckenridge: conquered. The story I've chosen to share is an event that happened in Breck.

I stopped for lunch for the first time in three days. After eating my Vienna Sausages and tortillas I started gearing up for the trip's final afternoon. As we made our way out, one of my ski buddies recommended that we do a shirtless run. I, of course, obliged (see the carpe diem post below).

There are a couple things to keep in mind as you construct yourself a mental picture of my little topless run.

1) Mountains, winter, snow skiing... cold! I'd say it was somewhere between 20 and 30 degrees. Not terrible.

2) I have red hair, which, by default means that I have very pasty skin. My fleece is white as snow.

So there I go, equipped with skis, pants, gloves, a giant red beard, a hat and goggles, flying down a lift that quite conveniently ran directly below the nearest ski lift. If you are ever in Colorado and you want to be popular, take off your shirt and ski beneath a lift. I've never had so many people yell for me in my life. There were lots of people pointing, wondering what was wrong with me. Let 'em think that. While they're thinking that, I'll be seizing my days.

Back to my current status: I'm stuck in the La Quinta here in Pueblo, Colorado because God decided to place the biggest storm in American history on the same day as our drive home. Chances aren't really looking too good that we'll get to leave here tomorrow either... strug. Stay tuned to see if I ever get to leave this place. Oh, and don't think, "how cool, he's stuck in his favorite state." Not quite, this isn't cool Colorado, it's not-so-cool-Colorado-in-a-hotel-with-nut-bag-people. Oh well... carpe diem.

Merry Christmas

To you in David's town this day,
is born of David's line,
The Savior who is Christ the Lord,
and this shall be the sign:
The heavenly babe you there shall find,
to human view displayed,
All meanly wrapped in swaddling bands,
and in a manger laid.
Hallelujah!

-Andrew Peterson-

glory to God

The other night Mikey and I walked to this "Drinks and Desserts" get together at a neighboring apartment complex. It took us a lot of wandering the parking lot before we found apartment 2223, but we finally found it. As we approached the stairs I spotted this Hamilton right there on the ground. I haven't found a dollar bill on the ground since elementary school when I found a Lincoln (I think) on the Luby's floor in Arlington. I rejoiced. Ask Mikey.

On an unrelated note: I have to work on Christmas Eve... what the heck is that? I guess I'll just keep in mind that Mary and Joseph didn't get any time off on Christmas Eve either. I'll be Joseph, you be Mary.

I smiled

A lot of people seemed almost disgusted upon hearing that I - a college graduate - am working retail. This post isn't really about my reasoning behind doing what I do (nor is it about the happy-face-moon-crater pictured above). It's more about some of the things I see while I do what I do. I've seen these three things at work over the past few weeks, and each of them made me smile like a crater... with a beard.

1. I overheard a customer asking a fellow employee which pair of gloves were the warmest. Not an uncommon question this time of year. Then she threw in the part that almost brought a tear to my eye: "We're getting them for our crossing guard." OH MY GOODNESS! I'm pretty sure that's the sweetest thing I've heard a human say or do in months. I wanted to hug that lady and her little kid. Not only are they saving the ozone by walking to school, they're buying their sweet crossing guard the warmest pair of gloves REI has to offer. After fighting off my tears (for the sake of professionalism), I smiled.

2. If we're lucky enough to have to come in at 7:00am to work at a place that doesn't open until 10:00am, we're also lucky enough to see the two people who clean REI every morning. I think it's a father/son duo. The father isn't too big on English, and the son just listens to his music while he vacuums, but he'll talk too. Now, I work upstairs, but the way our store is set up I'm able to see a good portion of the first floor from my section. One day the cleaning didn't quite get finished by 10:00 and I happened to look down and see my friend, the son part of our cleaning team, opening the first of two sets of double doors for this awesome old man who couldn't walk very well (or fast) even with his two canes. After the man got through the first set of doors, music-man hustled in front of him to hold the next door for him. This guy has no close affiliation with REI, he didn't have to even acknowledge the man, but he did, and I smiled.

3. I love when a couple walks up and you can just tell that they are in love with each other, and that their love for each other comes from Jesus. (Sadly, this isn't an event that happens all too often). This guy came and asked me for ski pants the other day. He wanted a good warm pair for his wife. I don't know how you ask a question in such a way that screams, "I love my wife," but this guy knows how, and he did it. After I had been helping him for a very short period of time, his wife walked up, at which point I was helping them, not him. Really I was just helping her the entire time as far as the husband was concerned. Anyway, I was very saddened when I was unable to provide this awesome couple with the particular ski pants they wanted. I mean, I was really sad. I wanted to be friends with these people, and not giving them the pants they want was no way to start a stellar friendship. So they very understandingly walked away, back down the stairs, in love and on their way to a ski trip. I smiled.

carpe diem

The past few weeks Jon, Mikey and I have been very blessed to have one of our roommates of yore crash with us here in Dallas. THE Colby Ivey has graced us with his presence before he heads off to Colorado for a while. Last night, another one of our beloved roommates from Luther Street was in town. A typing test brought Jessie Harris to the Big D and fate brought him to us upon his completion of the test.

Jessie, Colby, and I decided that in order to celebrate our brief reunion, we should go to Taco Bueno and converse over a Mexican fast food feast. The conversation was a beautiful thing. We caught up with one another, reflected on our Savior and what He's been up to lately, and talked about life in general. The three of us are all highly aware that we are at a very unique point in our lives. We can pretty much do whatever we want, and go wherever we want, and fully justify it because we are currently bound to nothing. None of us are close to being married (that we're aware of), and we're all able to live off $12,000 a year without too much sacrifice.

In the midst of all this conversing, Colby mentioned a recent funeral that went down at a local church. The guy was 24, married, and had a baby. He died in a fishing accident. He lived with 6 or 7 of his best friends in college. He liked to walk around barefoot. He lived a full life. He was us.

There have been no shortage of reminders the past few years of how fragile life is.

It doesn't take too long to dwell on the fragility of life before you decide you want your life to be a full one. Hence, carpe diem. Sieze the day. We are so dumb to not make the most of every day we are given, and every opportunity we're given, no matter how silly or even stupid it may seem.

That said, there have long been talks about the Luther boys getting a tattoo to solidify our unity and love for each other. The idea has always been that we would each get one letter of "Luther Boys" tattooed. 10 people, 10 letters, good deal. Well it turns out that some people aren't crazy about the idea. They don't want to sieze their days. They strive to life boring lives. So, we've been forced to reduce "Luther Boys" to just "Luther".

Immediately following our carpe diem conversation at Bueno, Colby and Jessie decided that that very moment was the best time to get the tattoos, even though there were only three of us. We would get the ball rolling with L, U, and T, and let the other lucky three spell HER later. Oh, and if you haven't gotten this already, the location of said tattoo is to be directly on each roommates' bumper (see picture above). I could go on in great detail about how hilarious last night was, but I fear this post is getting a bit long. Suffice it to say that tattoos are very expensive, and when you want them on your bumper, they cost even more. So funny.

Carpe Diem!

no surprise

If you're part of the readership of all the Living Hope bloggers (which, lets face it, you are) then you know everyone's been tagged, and since everyone's been tagged, and I'm someone, I've been tagged. If I hadn't been tagged by my favorite 7 year old, I would have immediately disregarded it. However, since Anson is such a baller, I cannot resist.

1. I'm way more selfish than you think I am.
2. I hate it when I'm opening the bag of cereal and it tears down the side, allowing pieces of cereal to fall down into the box, never to be eaten.
3. For the first time in my life, my beard is longer than my hair.
4. I day dream about being in cooler life stages than my reality.
5. I'm a firm believer in listening to entire CD's without skipping around or switching CD's before completely listening to them. I think artists put at least some thought into the song order of their albums and they probably want you to hear the songs in the order that you do without your skipping around. If you're driving, do whatever. It's your CD player. If I'm driving, don't you dare reach your nasty finger to my CD player's dial to skip to a song you think is better than the one currently playing. It's not how the artist intended it to be, and it's not how it will be in my car. If you weren't sure earlier, re-read number 1.

Here's the list of people I'll tag (but won't hyperlink because it'd take too long): Philip Yancey, Andrew Peterson, Mark Driscoll, Kelly Clarkson, and my Granny.

olives

[insert picture of olives]

Three months into this Dallas gig, and I'm still an orphan when it comes to churches. I really wish that my opening statement only applied to me, and not to the countless other people to whom I've spoken since I've been here. Scores of people are in the same boat I am, living in a new place, and missing the church family they grew to deeply love back in their college towns. Some of my boat-mates have been in it up to three times longer than I have. This is a problem.

I've visited a number of churches since moving to Dallas. There are no shortage of churches to visit here, as I'm sure you can imagine. I've been to some that are big, some that are small. Some that emphasize community, some that emphasize relevancy. Some that are firmly founded in Biblical principles and others whose pastors forgot to use the Bible in their entire sermon. Some with sound theology and some with... well... questionable theology.

As of late I've been visiting Watermark Community Church. At first I was hesitant of this particular body because upon reviewing every single line of their entire website, I learned that they were building a new facility to accommodate their growth, and that the building was to include a coffee shop. For some reason I've never liked coffee shops that were built in churches. I'm sure I've got some decent reasons for my dislike of said shops (perhaps one being that I don't even like coffee), and I'm sure that many of the churches who've included shops on their campuses have good reasons too.

My second week at Watermark the guy sitting next to me learned that I was a visitor, and he immediately wrote down his email address and encouraged me--genuinely, not obligatorily--to contact him if I ever wanted to go to church with someone as opposed to flying solo. (Now keep in mind that I don't really fly to church, I drive in my car. If I flew to church every week, then my having a problem with the church putting in a coffee shop would be the least of my worries.) The single act of "Chewy" (that's his nickname) giving me both a sincere invitation and an email address spoke volumes about the church. It really did. That kind of stuff should happen 1,500 times more than it does.

So after the service that week I filled out the ever-dorky visitor tab of the bulletin and put it in the tithe box for lack of other places to put it. I expected to hear back via a generic mass email or something within the week, but no such email ever found its way to my inbox. Tonight, three weeks later, I got a letter in the mail from Watermark with a hand-written note apologizing that the email failed to get to me. The girl who wrote the note actually printed the email and sent it snail mail style (which is certainly the first time I've ever received an email in my house mail box) with a note stating that she'd tried to send it before, but it continually failed to send. How'd that happen? Well apparently I have unintelligible handwriting, because Watermark thinks my name is Derrick Olives. They think my email is derrickolives@gmail.com, and they are wrong on both accounts. I am thankful that my last name is Oliver, and not Olives.

congestion?

One of the drawbacks to living in a major city is the lack of open space. Buildings and streets take up most of the space (all but the few acres of parks that cities thankfully spare), hindering, among other things, the view. One thing I love about many places I've visited in my life were open fields or overhanging cliffs where I could sit and watch the sunset (or rise, if I were so ambitious as to wake up early).

The other day I got off of work about an hour before sunset, so I decided to do the ol' ride-my-bike-to-a-cool-place-and-watch-the-sunset. The place I had in my mind, a field, turned out to be the worst possible idea. There were buildings all over blocking my view of the westward sky. I was fortunate, however, to have one of those buildings be a parking garage. So I rode up six stories of steady incline to the top where I took a new kind of sunset picture: the kind that includes the building, as opposed to avioding them. I thought this building looked so cool as it reflected the sun. If you have bad vision you might even look at it and think that the building is all clear (and wouldn't that be cool if it were?). So now I just need to find the tallest parking garage in the city and ride up it for my next photographic outing. I'll be a happy rick.

(can you see downtown back there?)

book review vol. seven

I've known for a while that I enjoy learning, but until recently I thought I only enjoyed learning about certain things, things that I found pertinent to my life and the lives of those for whom I care. Then I read Freakonomics and realized that my limited set of information that I strive to know more about may not be so limited.

I'm sure you probably wouldn't roll into a bookstore and pick out a book that looked like the one pictured above. Well I did and after reading the intro and the first chapter (a pre-purchase routine I regularly rehearse), I knew I wanted every ounce of information this book had to offer. It was like reading a textbook, only good. I've never read a book like this before, and when I'm in charge of this nation's education programs, I'm going to require teachers to teach out of books like this. Kids would undoubtedly enjoy school more. No question in my mind. Why is that? Let me tell you.

The authors of this book have a gift. They know how to present potentially boring data in a very exciting way. For example, their blog is interesting, where as mine, for the most part, isn't. This discrepancy in interesting-ness can be accounted for in two areas: One, they're freakishly smart; Two, they present information well.

The book is mostly based on the research of Steven Levitt, who is basically like Brad Pitt in economists circles. He's won tons of young economist awards and he's well on his way to winning a Nobel Prize (according to an economics professor I sold shoes to yesterday). During his career as an economist, Levitt has simply asked tons of unconventional questions and found very interesting ties between variables that most people would never notice.

If I had to draw a picture that best represents the book, it would be a sledge hammer crashing down on the words, "Conventional Wisdom." If that doesn't get you excited, I don't know what will. Levitt explores things like why parents don't feel safe when their kids play at a house whose owners keep a gun, while they fail to think twice about having their kids play at a house with a swimming pool, which is in fact, statistically, significantly more dangerous. Stuff like that is interesting, no?

So there you have it. Go buy Freakonomics (or borrow the Supercinski's). Read it. Have intelligent discussions with your peers (This book will give you no shortage of things to discuss). Read the Levitt's work so you can claim you knew him before he was famous (i.e. before he wins a Nobel Prize). And also listen to Andrew Peterson's Christmas album like I asked you so kindly to do in yesterday's post. If for some reason you can only do one, listen to the music. It's more powerful than the book, unless you were somehow able to read the whole book in 45 minutes, and even then I think the music trumps.

Good News!

Since today is Black Friday and I survived it (praise God) I'd like to share something with you that I planned on sharing even if I hadn't survived the madness that is retail on the day after Thanksgiving: Andrew Peterson. If you are ready to have your mind literally explode for lack of other options because it is so happy, then click the link above. It'll take you to Andrew's website, where you will then click, "Open Player" (ah heck, how about you just click here). Once you successfully click the "here" or the "Open Player" link, a window will open and it will start playing [arguably] the most mind-blowing Christmas album that will ever grace your ears. Go ahead. Even if you hate Christmas music, this is different. And if you love Christmas music, then I've probably already sold you, you're half way through the first song.

Remember my post about music and how awesome and powerful it is? I referenced a certain album that literally brought me to tears because it was so good? Recall? No? Well this is that album. I recently ordered and received the live concert DVD version of the same record... also amazing. I rarely recommend music on this blog, but if I didn't tell you to listen to this album, I'm pretty sure I'd be sinning. It's about 45 minutes. Just do it. I bet you Jesus shows you something through it. Stop reading, and start enjoying the magic of true musical fusion... then come back in 45 minutes and tell everyone what you thought... if you can see through your tears.

The Thanksgiving Hun-derd!

I decided that for this year's Thanksgiving post that I'd do something a little different -- not that there have necessarily been any Thanksgiving posts in the past. I've decided to list one hundred people for which I am thankful. These names will be in no particular order, so if your name is the first one, the last one, or the middle-est one, that doesn't mean anything, other than that you made the list. I've also decided to break them up in four sets of 25, so it will be less overwhelming to read and easier for me to count. Go!

Mom, Dad, L.O., Granny, Aunt Sherry, Uncle Stan, Cousin Misty, Jon Tettleton, Mikey Mills, Colby Ivey, Jessie Harris, Grant Usry, T-Bomb Abbey, French Logan, John Banks, Jonny Williams, PG, Nate Dog, Matt Graham, Jimmy Needham, Cody Kimmel, Sam Binkley, Justin Smith, Aaron Hendrick, Heather Hendrick,

Anson Hendrick, Hayden Hendrick, Ashton Hendrick, My boy Danny, Chris Gaines, Butch Smith, Michelle Smith, Allen Duty, Kendra Duty, Brooke Brandon, Hayley Haralson, Claire Borne, Jessica Schmale, Sarah Vierling, Lauren Helton, Brice Helton, Stephanie Logan, Rachel Schmale, Lauren Rouse, Mallory Maxwell, Jordan Coulter, Kristin Good, Lauren McDaniel, Katie Domenech, Laura Nutter,

Brandone Rogers, Beethel Rogers, Mohawk Chad, Bill Magee, Ila Magee, Thomas Supercinski, Rachel Supercinski, Faith Fuqua, Ryan Couch, Jenny Couch, Lynn Brannon, Laura Brannan, Danie Magee, Katherine Carelock, Drew Lewis, Travis Black, Tyler Kunkel, Steve Miller, Andrew Rios, Blaine Grace, Brad Smith, Haley Smith, Breeto Wells,Rachel Gillman, Charles Roitsch,

Click!, Daniel Darnell, EJ Rathburn, Lamar Stockton, Topher Stockton, Trent Dowd, Tommy Clements, Brad Stroup, Rob Bethman, Taniesha Bethman, Chris Pletcher, Molly Allen, Megan McKenty, Melissa McKenty, Marc Morrow, PEEPS, Luke Friesen, Lisa Merryman, Lauren Drewry, Julie Anna Aboussie, Joshua Langston, Joe Baker, Joey Rigney, Jason Dunn, Jenna Fenoglio

Well that's it. I could have kept going (maybe not a whole lot longer, it's safe to say at least 10 people got left off), but one hundred's one hundred... sorry. One pretty big person who didn't make the list (but in a stroke of irony, did, in face, make, the list) is Jesus. I thank Him for giving me 100+ people for whom to be thankful. Amen and amen. And a hand-squeeze.

is that a joke?

The weather has been extremely pleasant the past couple of weeks (save a couple of wet days), which has allowed me to do something I enjoy: ride my bike. I'm not exactly in riding distance to any trails, so I settle for using my bike a means of transportation to places like the grocery store and the book store.

The other day at the local Barnes (which is two stories tall, thank you) I picked up a delightful book, Freakonomics. I have since bought it and read about half of it. When I finish, you will be able to reap the benefit of that which you did not sow by reading my review of it right here at online diary for the masses. Today as I was reading, I came across a disturbing fact: the cost of coffins is way too expensive. The one pictured above is the cheapest one I could find on the internet, and it's $1,000. (Most coffins are easily $3,000 and up).

This got me thinking: What better way to put on display how terribly we spend our money on this Earth than to end up with our carcasses lying in a $3,000 bed... underground? I can understand certain folks justifying such a purchase, for example, people who believe in reincarnation. However for people who claim to be Christians, and claim to believe that they're going to have a bodily resurrection when the guy they claim to be their leader, Jesus, comes back -- these people, the way my critical and opinionated eyes see it, have no business delving into such an investment.

I'll admit, this is a pretty one-sided view of an issue that is irrelevant to most of us (because how many of us will be buying our own coffin?), but it got me thinking, and it was time for a new post, so this is what we get. Since this is my blog, and I'm allowed to be biased and share my opinion, let me tell you what I'd like to have done to my dead earthly body: donate everything that you can. If there is anything left, do whatever is cheapest, all while being jealous that I get to be in the presence of my Maker while you're left to wait.

This isn't meant to be a morbid post, just honest, real, and a little offbeat. Don't cry.

fireplace: before and after

I'd like to thank Tony Green for the "f", the vase, and the giant white Lego leaves. I'd also like to open up the comment section as a safe place to discuss your thoughts on our fireplace.

book store thoughts

I love bookstores. Half-Priced Books, Barnes and Nobles, Borders, you name it, and I probably like it - unless it's a comic book store. I love that you can go into a book store in any city of America and feel like you've been there before (once you find a book, an empty chair, and start to read).

I've had a few days off from work this week and the past couple days I've found myself riding my bike in the disgustingly hot Dallas weather to the local Barnes where I proverbially swim around in the sea of books. I've got this gift where I'm able to find a book that peaks my interest in nearly every section of the store. I mean it could probably be the child birth section and I'd find something that interests me.

I've done some introspection and discovered where that gift comes from. Well, at least I've gotten one step closer to discovering it's origin. I like to learn. Maybe more so than my liking of learning is my attraction to the idea of knowing a lot of things. That fact is proven in my habit of picking up books that catch my eye, reading the first couple of lines on the back, pretending to read the remainder of the back, then putting the book back on the shelf.

The fact is, I really want all of the knowledge that the books in any given bookstore have to offer, without spending the time or money necessary to acquire said knowledge. That's the problem. And I blame the Internet.

Another thing I love to do at bookstores (and everywhere else I go) is watch people! Especially in the magi zine section. If you ever find yourself with a free afternoon and you just don't know what to do, go to the local Barnes, grab a book and pretend to read it near the magazine section while looking at people and observing to which magazines they are drawn. It is fascinating.

Clearly this post hasn't been profitable or funny, and I doubt it's even been entertaining, but it's what I've been thinking about lately, so it gets blog-space. There is one very funny thing about this post, and if you haven't noticed it already, go ahead and scroll back up and click on that picture. Look at the books on the table at which the boy is sitting. Hilarious.

Happy Yesterday

Those of you who are my parents, or who have a facebook account, know that yesterday was my birthday. Those of you who are on facebook know that this picture is of the facebook guy. Mark Zucherburger or something. Smart cat. But this post isn't exactly about facebook, nor is it entirely about my birthday. It's about how people used facebook to wish me a happy birthday. So I guess it's about both. And it may be about something else later. We'll see.

When one logs on to their facebook account, the homepage houses a sidebar telling them which of their friends have birthdays coming up, including friends whose birthday is that day. This is an extremely convenient feature, because it allowed fourty people to wish me happy birthday who would have been none the wiser had it not been for said sidebar. I recognize that; I don't expect anyone to remember anyone else's birthday (save spouses and other immediate family), so when people like Jessica Schmale call me on my birthday just to talk, unaware that it was in fact my birthday, I really don't mind. I say that to make sure that you -- the reader who went through their day yesterday unknowingly failing to celebrate my birth -- won't feel a need to apologize. I don't mind. It's not big deal.

Anyway, of those forty or so facebook well-wishes yesterday, a couple stood out and I felt the need to recognize them. I decided yesterday morning I was going to hold a contest for who could post the best birthday comment, but I didn't tell anyone. Sneaky huh? I wanted to have a first, second, and third place, but only two really stood out. And here they are:

2nd Place: Jessica Schmale said, "I'm still writing Happy Birthday on your wall... even though I feel like a lame friend" (upon realizing it was my birthday when logging on to facebook hours after we'd talked on the phone)

and...

1st Place: Catlin Whatley said, "I never write facebook birthday messages to people I actually like... cool picture."

I thought that was absolutely brilliant. Catlin is a girl I worked with in Brenham this summer, and she's sarcastic, and it's great.

So there you go. Congratulations to the winners of my contest in which nobody knew they were participating.

In closing I'd like to thank, as sincerely as I possibly can on a blog, the people who did anything for me today, even if it was just writing "happy birthday" on my wall (again, a facebook thing). Thanks for that, for the calls, emails, dinners (rents), and for just letting me be your friend. I'm far from deserving it. Thanks so much, and I love you people a ton. I'll also thank in advance whoever posts a comment on this post.

doggie days

Here is a picture of me and Hershey. Hershey is a yorkie that belongs to the Olivers, the family that birthed, raised, and currently claims me. My parents usually keep him, but due to their recent travels he has been staying with us at the apartment. Isn't he cute?

Well the answer is, it depends. He's cute when you come home and he runs up to you and jumps as high as he can (6 inches above my knee) to greet you. He's cute when he jumps up in your lap and falls asleep. He's actually cute right now as I'm typing this, laying down on the pillow beside my bed.

However, he is not always cute. It's not cute when you come home to find him in his cage with his own waste. He's also not cute when he decides, in the middle of the night, that he suddenly cannot jump on to my bed -- something he does with no problem in the day time -- and whines heavily until he receives the assistance he believes he deserves.

There is one thing that Hershey is not: smart. Every time I tell him it is time to go outside, he freaks out like he's never been anywhere other than our apartment's entry way in his life. You'd think he would remember that I have to put the leash on him before we go out, and that he'd at least stay still while I try to accomplish that feat... not the case. He just jumps around like an idiot until I finally grab and subdue him until I can get that little leash buckle to click. Another very intelligent thing he does happens every time we come back in from outside. He still hasn't wrapped his peanut brain around the fact that we live upstairs. He always goes right on past the steps. I don't understand it.

Anyway, that's Hershey. He's cute, and not cute, and not smart, but I love him anyway. My roommates hate him and make fun of him, but I love him. I think dogs are funny. I do not, however think this post is funny, and at this point I'm wondering why I thought it would be a good idea for a post at all. Oh well. It's like the subtitle of my blog says, "online diary for the masses - where D.O. wastes your time for you"

an RSS how-to that you don't want to miss

I had been thinking about doing a post about rss (are-ess-esse) feeds the past few days, then I saw the Super's did one already. However mine will take a different approach. Read his to see what RSS feeds are... go... read...

In short, RSS will help you keep up with all your blogs without having to click every link from your blog twice daily. It checks them for you and tells you when changes have been made. Ok. My version of the RSS post will be a how-to concerning installation and usage of a RSS reader that you can use in firefox (which you should be using at this point in history).

Welcome to Sage. If you'd like you can install it as you read along. Just click the link, the "install" tab, then the "install" button. You will probably have to restart firefox (close and re-open) before Sage will work. No biggie.

The sidebar you see on the left of the mini-screen (click to enlarge) is what Sage will look like. If you don't see any sidebar when you re-open firefox, just press Alt-S, or click the new button you have up in your URL bar (the colorful talk bubble icon).

Now your Sage sidebar should have three feeds automatically installed to it: BBC News, Yahoo! News - Sports, and Sage Project News. You may or may not care about any of those, but you probably do want to add your blogs... and here's how.

Open up one of the blogs you read. At the top corner of the URL bar you will see this:

Which will open up something like this:


To which you will select the "Sage Feeds" folder, and click OK.

Repeat for all of the blogs you read, and in about ten minutes, you'll have a nice looking list in your sidebar. Now when you open your internet you can press Alt-S (if you don't leave Sage open all the time) which will open up your sidebar, and then click the little orange refresh button (see first pic) at the top left of the Sage sidebar.

Here's the cool part:

The blogs on your list that have been updated will change from normal font to bold! You want to check the bold ones because they've got something new. You needn't check the non-bold ones because they haven't been updated.

Note: at first they will probably all be bold, because the reader doesn't know that you've read the existing posts. Simply press Ctrl-Shift-C, and that should mark all of your feed items as read. Now you're set. From now on, all the bold items are updated sites.

That's it. If you have any questions let me know via comments, and if you actually do install it please let me know, because I'd like to think that the past 45 minutes of post-composition weren't a futile effort.

Reformation Day, 2006

Sure it's Halloween, but being the supporter of all things less popular, today I'll be celebrating Reformation Day.

What's Reformation Day, you ask? Remember Martin Luther? Not Martin Luther King Jr, just plain ol' Martin Luther. He was a feisty monk back in the day (1517), who saw a lot of discrepancies between what he read in the Bible and what he saw the church doing. So, like any of us would NEVER do, he wrote out 95 theses and nailed them right on the front doors of the church.

So, how should we go about celebrating such a wonderful day?

Option 1: We could all read what the Bible says about how the Body of Christ should act, write out all the ways that it is currently failing in that area (on papyrus of course), and go up to our local church and post them up on the door by stabbing them with a ketchup-stained knife.

Option 2: We could be relevant to our culture and dress up in a great Halloween costume (preferably as Martin Luther) and then go execute option 1.

Option 3: We could rent the movie, "Luther" to better educate ourselves on the life and story of this man most Christians know very little about, even though he played one of the biggest roles in the church they go to looking the way it does (not Catholic).

Option 4: We could be both relevant to culture and be seen as more of freaks than our culture already sees modern Christians by, again, dressing up like Martin Luther, writing out our modern day thesis, and then making tons of copies of them, and stab them up on each door of the houses our kids will be trick or treating at.

Option 5: I could see what the Bible says about how I should live as a person who claim the name of Christ, note that I'm failing miserably, and stab myself with the proverbial knife on the metaphorical door of my heart. You could do the same.

However you decide to celebrate this glorious day in Protestant History, do it passionately, because that's how Martin Luther would have done it, dang it. Happy Reformation Day!

done and done.

The date was October 27th, the time 2:00am. I met my goal of tearing a phone book in half. The two halves of a phonebook you see pictured above are the remnants of the very phone book which I tore. Note the Bryan/College Station edition, and the green carpet, which could only be found in Gloria (Lauren Rouse's living room). Here's how it went down:

During my late night visit to the Marstellar girls, the conversation inevitably turned to the tearing of phone books. I expressed my anguish of not being able to attempt my monthly goal for lack of available phone books. Lauren briefly left the room, and promptly returned with a handful of phone books. When I say handful, I mean a stack that nearly went from her hands to her shoulders. It was the most beautiful sight I've seen since Hayden Hendrick's Spaghetti Day. I proceeded to attempt to rip one of those books in half, and somehow I was successful (again, see picture above). Upon tearing the book, I recalled that my camera was out in my car, and that we needed to film the feat so as to maximize the amount of entertainment available on my blog (because what I'm going to post on my blog is constantly on the mind). I got the camera, had Lauren film me, and twice I failed to tear a phone book... so the picture will have to suffice for now.

Fear not though, we've still got a few days until Reformation Day, so you may well have a video in the near future.

what happened Sunday?

This is a pretty highly anticipated post for "online diary for the masses." I made the mistake of promising some of my readers (via a series of away messages) an update on my very cool Sunday. I said that when I woke up on Monday, I'd update the blog and share my fun day with everyone. Well it's late, but here it is.

Look at Skylar. Isn't she extreme? This picture is for everyone who's ever said to me, "I'd never imagine you driving that car." Well would you picture me in Skylar if she had a boat on her head? She did on Sunday! She's so cool.

Sunday I had to work from 10 to 6. Any other day of the week I would use the verb "got to" as opposed to "had to," but this being a Sunday, the verb changes. I was pretty upset about having to miss church for this, our last day of formal training. There had been talk all week about a Sunday night moon-lit paddling outing after work. I immediately thought, "I want to go" but then my brain said:

"You don't have a boat" - REI Staff gets free rentals

"You drive Skylar, she can't carry a boat" - Adam from work carries a 17 ft. kayak on his Accord

"You aren't cool enough" - I'm new here, so the people don't have to know that I'm a poser yet.

As you can see, I ended up going and having a wonderful time on White Rock Lake (see previous post). We sported the night paddle in October, when the air is colder than the water.

Before we loaded up the boat and drove off to the lake, another pretty important event happened (other than Skylar carrying her first boat). I was awarded one of these:

That is a big deal. It's the highly coveted REI green vest, complete with lots of pockets full of vital information, three pens, and a name badge bearing my REI name (for now), "Derrick." I hope to have my next name tag say "D.O." but we'll see.

white rock lake

I love parks. I have no problem with a percentage of my tax dollars going towards parks and services. I took this picture at my new favorite park in Dallas, White Rock Lake Park. See downtown across the lake? Isn't it little? Fun huh? Thank you Dallas for building such an escape right in the middle of yourself.

I'm so employed!

Sometimes in life, you just gotta do what you gotta do to make ends meet. That's why I've recently taken another job (other than the beautiful one at REI). That's right. I'm now officially Chief Jiffy News Correstpondent -- something I will certainly add to my existing resume. For my debut news update, click here. (Or right there where it says Jiffy News ---->)

a proposal for new management

None of us will soon forget where we were when we heard about Judy Blume's retirement from Jiffy News. I was sitting right here at my computer after waking up around noon from a solid night's sleep. The death of such a beloved and informative blog does not occur without the world-wide-web community feeling the impact. To add insult to injury, earlier today I clicked the Jiffy News link just for old time's sake, and the dreaded Error 404 was displayed on my monitor! How are people supposed to get their news? Sure they could watch CNN or read up on the countless long-winded websites that offer such information, but who's got the time? Well I might.

That's right. After hours of self-consultation I've decided to contact Judy (via this post) and submit to her my application, that I might become a Chief News Correspondent for Jiffy News. I could help write news stories, and she, being the founder and CEO, would have the liberty to edit, erase, or elaborate on anything she so chose. This came as a suggestion from Heather Hendrick herself, queen of popularity and blogging. I think that says something right there. I did modify and add a few things to Heather's original proposal, which can be read in the comment section of my previous post.

So Judy, what do you think? All I'd need from you is the okay and the password (that way the URL doesn't have to change, which will save your readership some confusion). I even made a logo in Paint! I'm anxiously awaiting your thoughts.

EMERGENCY!

I came out of blog retirement to present to my readers an unexpected emergency that occurred the other night: I had just blown out a candle that had been burning for 5 hours or so, and by some God-forsaken lapse of judgement I picked up said candle, brought it to my face so as to better smell it, and inadvertently dumped the wax all over myself.

By the grace of God, I wasn't naked when this happened. My desk, chair, and clothes took the brunt of the burn. Six seconds later the real problem presented itself: Dried wax is now splatter-painted all over my padded desk chair, the crotch of my pants, and one of my Sunday shirts.

This is where you, my readers -- my readers who are mothers or someday hope to be -- come in to play. I need to learn the best method of getting dried wax out of clothes. My chair is a lost cause. I was able to clean off the desk using my drivers licence. Now I'm facing the battle of the week in my laundry basket's contents.

So for all you moms whose children have tainted their clothes with Christmas Eve Candlelight Service candles, or the moms whose own clothes have soiled by melted crayons, this is my plea for your guidance. If in fact my clothes are as lost a cause as my chair, I'll be able to cope, but I'm not going down without a fight.

In regard to my previous post: That was really written in hopes that Judy would read it, feel terrible for ousting everyone's 6th favorite blog-writer from the web, and return to giving us the news like she did for so many days in the past. Thank you for those who showed love and concern. Right back atcha.

peace

Just minutes ago I read some sobering, yet enlightening news: Jiffy News will cease to exist. Sobering because, though it is a young blog, it's popularity grew exponentially, and many Internet surfers felt at home there. Enlightening because it made me realize: if the people at Jiffy News can decide to up and quit their job of educating the masses, then I can certainly quit my job of online diary-ing for them. So that's it. Thank you Judy for the eye-opener. I quit too! Who's with us?

my worldview

Whoever designed my apartment complex did a pretty good job of making residents feel safe regarding others trying to peek through their windows. My initial thought towards having all of our windows blocked by trees was undoubtedly negative. Not that we would have been able to see far had the trees not been there, but the trees block the sun, which reduces the amount of natural light that is able to enter our rooms.

Over the years I've been very wrong about a whole lot of stuff, especially when it comes to first impressions of people, things, or situations. Well this is no exception.

I've been blessed with sightings like the one pictured above over and over the past few weeks. I never would have counted myself as a bird watcher, but I'm starting to recognize its appeal. When I can lay on my wonderful bed and simply look right out my window at a cardinal who doesn't know I'm spying on him (or her... I don't know birds yet), that's pretty pure.

This reminds me of when I was in elementary school and junior high. My Aunt Sherry would pick me up from school and take me to her house until my mom got off work. Each year, during our week-long autumn, I remember Sherry always talking about how beautiful the changing leaves were. I'm pretty sure I said they were too, but never really paid much attention to them. Now I could sit and stare at a fall-struck tree for thirty minutes and thoroughly enjoy it.

Events and changes like these are the subtle changes that make me realize the scary fact that I'm growing up.

I'm thankful that my God helps change my entirely screwed up mind and conforms it to look (and think!) like His.

Change is inevitable. That was on the wall in my 7th grade hallway. Whoever put those construction paper letters on the wall knew what they were talking about.

nine days in...

As you may recall, my goal for October, the only month of my life for which I've set a goal, is to tear a phone book in half. As of today, the 9th, this is how far I've been able to get.

That doesn't mean that I've been working on the same phone book all month. That'd be silly. I've taken the more logical route of trying a new phone book each time, and when I can tear no longer, I stop. As a result, now we're out of phone books for me to tear, but I'll figure something out.

When I presented my goal of the month to my all-too-edifying roommates, they both scoffed at me and assured me that I'd never be able to do it; that it was a feat only for strongman guys, like the Power Team. Even after seeing what I've accomplished thus far, they remain unbelievers. Well count that as all the more reason to complete my goal. I haven't lost heart.

I realize this isn't an exciting post, but it is necessary for you to know that I'm a man of my word, and I'm still trying. Today was the first day I've been able to tear at least some part of every page, A to Z. Last time I only made it to the J's or so.

Aaron, if you ever teach the man class again, you can make this activity part of it. An ice breaker or something.

the verdict: part two

So there I was, sitting on the patio at Taco Cabana, sharing a meal and some biblical fellowship with my good friend Brad Smith, when my phone rings. Ignoring the impulse to be polite to Brad by not answering the phone, I picked it up and my new good friend Julie was on the other line.

Why is she our new good friend? Because of what she had to say following our greeting.

She told me that she thought I'd be a good fit for the REI team, and that she'd like to offer me a position.

I told her to go right on ahead, offer away.

She said I'd be holding it down upstairs in the apparel and footwear section. Do you understand the magnitude of that statement? The only material possession in which I place any value (Chacos) are the very items I will be selling to the American population! Praise the Lord, no?

Lucky for you and me, Brad was ready with my camera and was able to photo-document this glorious occasion.

Now I'm off to update my "work" status on facebook. Goodbye unemployment, hello REI!

freshman door... an epic

Before I get into the meat of this entry, I must define the term "freshman door" for any of my readers who aren't familiar with it. Picture a set of double doors. We all know of a pair or doors, either at a church, a school, a gym, wherever. The freshman door is the one of the two that is normally locked. It's called the freshman door because freshman try to open it. Nobody else. (I know this isn't an inerrant description, but please bear with me, we've got a ways to go).

Today Mikey asked me if I'd like to join him for a cycling class at 24 Hour Fitness, because he works there and could get me in for free. Normally I wouldn't subject myself to such torture, but I've been pretty active lately, so I figured I might as well oblige.

We walk in to the gym, Mikey shows his "I work here" card while I'm left to fill out paperwork because I answered "No" to the "have you ever been here before" question (freshman door #1). When I finish falsely filling in the blanks, the people behind the desk inform me that they won't be taking my papers, but to wait for the one who would.

Soon after a nice man whose name tag read "Mark" walked up. Mark had salesman written all over every fiber of his being, and he asked me all these questions about why I wanted to join the gym. I immediately made it very clear that I had no intentions of joining and that I was only here for a cycling class with my friend, his fellow employee. However, as I said, Mark was a salesman, so he would not be so easily deterred. He proceeded to give me a tour of the facilities, all while telling me that he knew I wasn't planning on joining, but his manager would be mad if he didn't show me around. Walking around this facility with an employee all but screams, "Hey, I'm new here, and I don't work out but I was going to start if all you people don't mind." (freshman door #2).

After the tour Mark brought me back to his desk, showed me a bunch of prices for different plans and assured me that it was only because he was supposed to. Then he threw out the big guns. In full infomercial style Mark assured me that if I signed up today, he'd knock off all kinds of fees and I'd leave with the balloon of my choice. I managed to resist his kind offers, which should have come as no surprise to him, because the first thing I said to him all day was that I wasn't joining. Thanks for trying Mark.

Finally Mikey and I enter in to the cycling (spinning) class room. Unlike the rest of the gym, this room was hot. There was no air flow, and these aren't the kind of stationary bikes that produce any. I guess those are a thing of the past. These bikes are the Spinner NXT's, pictured above. Mikey and I waste no time adjusting the height of our seats, handlebars, and cupholders.

The teacher walks in, turns off the lights and leaves only the faint blue lights burning, turns on the remixed not-so-popular hits from the 90's, and asks, "Is it anybody's first time today?" to which I raised my hand (freshman door #3). She talked us through our warm up, which includes pedaling while stretching out your upper body.

Here comes the biggest "freshman door" moment of my post-college life. As I was sitting upright, pedaling at a comfortable pace and crossing my arms in a manner unknown outside of local gyms, it happened. My seat just gave out and I was instantly moved from the J setting to what I guess was A. That's a 10 letter drop! (freshman door #4).

I, of course, bursted out with one very short, loud spurt of laughter - one that is often confused as a cry of pain, not pleasure. Everyone in the class turned a looked at me, other than the teacher whose bike was already facing me. Because of my inadequacy, she had to tell the class to keep going while she stopped, got off her bike, and came to make sure I was okay. Keep in mind, there are probably 4 boys and 20 girls in this class... She politely showed me how to properly adjust (and tighten!) my seat, and proceeded to indirectly kick my butt for the rest of the hour. I walked out of that room sweating like a fat kid, my face as red as it used to be during my rings routines.

In closing, I'd like to thank 24 Hour Fitness for facilitating my afternoon of healthy humiliation, and I'd really like to thank you guys for reading this, the very long first chapter of my book about how to laugh at yourself.

CELEBRATE!!!

Ladies and gentleman, you are truly experiencing an exciting event right now, even as you read. The post that your eyes are currently beholding is the 150th post on my blog! It's the sesquicentennial post, and that gives us a reason to celebrate. I'd like everyone to take part in an enjoyable activity today that you normally wouldn't let yourself do:

- Eat that ice cream
- Skip that workout
- Buy that new CD
- Post a comment on the "online diary for the masses"
- Cartwheel

And when you're done enjoying whatever activity you've chosen, I'd greatly appreciate it if you would take the time to participate in the first ever (maybe second...) "online diary for the masses" poll. Please friends, answer me this one question in the form of a comment below.

How often do you check this blog?

I'm asking so as to better meet the needs of my constituents, because seriously, where would I be without you guys? Certainly not sitting here publishing my 150th post, that's for dang sure. Seriously, I'd love to know how often you check this blog so that I'll be able to know how often I ought to update it. I've got all sorts of potential posts running through my brain to take us from 150 to 1,500, I just need you guys to tell me how quickly you want to get there. Thanks for hanging out with me this far.

my goal for October

The past few weeks I've had plenty of free time on my hands, lots of time to think about what skill I'd like to pick up before REI hires me. Well I've figured it out: I want to tear a phonebook in half. What screams, "I'm a man" like accomplishing such a feat? Well lots of things, but I'm going to try it anyway.

(note: This is a short post to make up for the longer one I wrote earlier today, but if you've got time, know that you're allowed to read more than one post per visit... it'll be ok.)

this weekend's wedding

There's no getting around it. It's just that time in my life. You know the time. You're either experiencing it right now, or you recall it happening to you back in the day. It is an inevitable season that middle-class Americans face. Just as the the snow has no choice but to melt when spring ends, so too it seems that college graduates have little to do upon finishing school other than to get married. (Now obviously this doesn't apply to all college graduates, but it does apply to enough of them that they, though single, end up spending hundreds and hundreds of dollars on tux rentals or bridesmaids dresses for their fellow graduates' weddings.)

I was blessed this past weekend with the opportunity of standing on stage with my boy Drew Lewis as he fell into the beautiful trap of wedlock. A lot of people who find themselves in this period of life will often be heard complaining (albeit cleverly discrete) that they're "always the bridesmaid, never the bride" or a male equivalent of the sort. I've not reached that point yet. I still just enjoy going to weddings to see dearly loved friends that I wouldn't get to see otherwise. Weddings also allow you a chance, if you want it, to meet new people. All in all I just really enjoy weddings, and I'm glad that I'm allowed to be a part of them from time to time. I'm also very glad that Drew and Lindsey are cool enough to put me as "D.O." as opposed to Derrick Oliver in the wedding bulletin, pictured above... Seriously, that is a very cool thing to do.

I'll leave you with a story that happened at the rehearsal, because it is a pretty good representation of my lack of social skills.

The wedding party is ordered to go stand by their name tags on the stage. I found the one that said "D.O. Oliver" and stood behind it. The set up was such that each groomsmen had a bridesmaid accompanying him, three pairs on either side of the bride and groom. Having been raised by parents who tried their best to teach me how to interact with other humans, I took the liberty of introducing myself to the bridesmaid I was to escort in the ceremony. She informed me that her name was Erin and we exchanged the usual "where are you from/ what do you do" small talk.

During our discussion I learned that she is a Kanakuk girl. A few minutes later (seriously, only a few, it had not been long) I decided I'd tell her of my Kanakuk experience, so I said to her confidently, "Emily, I'd like you to know that I went to KAA this summer."

"It's Erin" she retorted immediately.

I responded by, of course, overreacting and making sure that she knew that I really was aware of what an idiot I was. The good thing about starting a relationship like that is that there is no place to go but up, and the rest of the weekend went just fine.

Thanks to Drew and Lindsey for letting me be a part of their special day, and thanks to you for reading this far on this longer than average post. Since I'm pretty sure my mom is the only person who is still reading, here's a treat for you: Your son in his tux, sans jacket, next to a chair that makes him look significantly taller than he really is
.

book review vol. six

I came across this trendy looking book while browsing through my friend's bookshelf the other day. I took the liberty of leaving his house with it and reading it over the past few days. Now you guys will reap the benefit of that which you did not sow.

The general idea of this book, written by George Barna, research masta' (yes, masta'), is that there is a growing group of people within American Christianity today who are, quote, "Revolutionaries." (Side note: if you do read this book, you'll never want to hear that trendy word again - save Shane Claiborne's Irresistible Revolution - because he certainly has a way of beating it to the ground.) These are the kind of people who have an unquenchable desire to know Jesus and to better serve Him, and anything that gets in their way of doing that, well it's going to have to go. The "revolutionaries" are passionate about intimate worship, faith-based conversations, intentional spiritual growth, servanthood, resource investment, spiritual friendships, and family faith. One of the things Barna addresses as a hindrance to their sanctification is, ironically, the local church.

As any of you who've ever seen any Barna stats before know, they don't say anything positive about the current state of the American church. That, however, is not a new idea. It shouldn't surprise anybody (especially my generation, which Barna deems the Busters, born 1965 to 1983) that the American church isn't coming close to living up to its full potential. In my opinion, we have written quite enough books about how the church is struggling, while there is a huge void in the area of books (or teachings) that help us fix the problem.

Barna does, to some degree, go beyond stating the problem by offering a solution. It's real novel: follow Jesus. That's what these "revolutionaries" are doing, and as Barna states, many of them are finding that their churches won't fully stand behind their strivings after Him, which sounds terrible, and probably most of us go to churches that would allow it, but I can totally see it being true. Some of these believers, Barna says, will seek to find like-minded "revolutionaries" and start meeting with them in house churches of sorts. I don't have a problem with that, assuming they're still under a Biblical authority. That gets into a whole lot of other stuff that I could certainly go into, but nobody would read because the post would be too long, which for some it may be already.

In closing, this book offers a tangible look at the current state of the church (if you still need that) and presents a view of church that, though Biblical, seems to butt heats with a lot of today's religious leaders. It was challenging, informative, yet I still don't know that I'd recommend it. Scale of 1 to 5: I give it a 3.

the verdict: part one

For those of you who won't be able to sleep tonight until you find out which pair of shoes I chose to wear to my interview, well wait no longer: I wore the Chacos (as if there was ever any real chance that I wouldn't). I wore the Chacos and went up to that REI, and had the first real job interview I've had since my first job ever, which was Six Flags Over Texas.

Needless to say, this interview was far more enjoyable than was the one I had eight years ago in North Arlington. I feel like it went about as well as it could have gone, and now I'm back to praying that the Lord'll hook me up with that job if He's ok with it. I'm supposed to hear back on October 7th, hence this verdict only being part one... part two will be the real party... or lamenting.

I learned lots of stuff about REI the past few days that I really like, one of which is pictured above. This is one of their two Green Buildings they have built. This one is in Portland. That's in Oregon. That's north of California and south of Washington. You can read all about the Green Buildings here... maybe someday I'll have my pic on the REI site.

what to wear??

Every day we affluent Weserterners are faced with a whole lot of decisions that most of the rest of the world needn't worry about making.

Which bathroom to use?

Which specific meal to eat?

Which specialist doctor to go see?

Which company to pursue getting a job with?

Well tomorrow, Tuesday the 26th, at 4:00pm, I will be making a choice I wouldn't have thought twice about had my father not called me today. You see, I have a job interview at REI tomorrow (praise Jesus!) and was told, regarding the attire, "... and it's casual, you don't have to show up in a suit or anything" - after which I laughed, told her I didn't own a suit, and she answered back with laughter.

The real issue at hand here, as you may have guessed, is not what outfit to wear to said interview at one of the nation's largest outdoor gear retailers, but what pair of shoes?

I had full intentions of wearing my beloved Chaco's, but my dad politely recommended that I do otherwise. I followed up with a well-thought out rebuttal, but I'll save you from reading that. Given the facts you've received already, including the quote from the interviewer, knowledge of what kind of store REI is, and the picture of my entire shoe collection (save climbing shoes, which aren't an option), what pair ought I wear?

Stay tuned for a picture of the entire outfit I end up picking in the next post tentatively titled: Fashion Universe.

oh the paths my mind takes...

As you all know, I went to Living Hope in college. As I'm sure you've heard, Butch Smith is the pastor there at the Hopester. As a small percentage of you know, there are no pictures of anybody on the otherwise awesome new Living Hope website (digitally remastered by Ryan Couch himself). So I had to resort to the age-old, ever faithful solution of Google Images. I believe the afore displayed photograph was number three on the list of results.

I bet you're wondering why I'm posting about Brother Butch huh? You think I'm going to rip him up because of that thing he said last Sunday? Nope. (I would never do that anyway, but let's face it, if I did, it wouldn't be on the Internet). Well what spawned this post was everyone else's blogs. There is no shortage of LH bloggers out there, and their number is growing constantly, which made me wonder: does Butch Smith read his flock's blogs? Does he peruse them from time to time? Does he use them in sermon illustrations? Does he even know they exist?? Does he care that his picture isn't on the website? Would he like it if we put the picture above on his LH page? Would he ever even know?

These are the things I thought about. Thoughts? Hizzie, do what you think ought to be done. I trust you. You too Aaron.

the glory days

Well since I lost that amazing video of Jonny dressed as a pirate, beating up a ninja and replacing it with a ninja bear in Elise's classroom... this video from college will have to suffice. It is officially my first video ever on the online diary for the masses. We'll see how it goes, there could very well be more to come in the future.

You will probably want to turn the volume down on the ol' machine (it was a windy day). Finally, thanks to Jerod Brazeal, my beautiful freshman year roommate who has never seen this blog, for filming.

book review vol. five

This is the first of my book reviews in which I've attempted to tackle not only a non-Christian book, but a modern day classic in it's own right. That said, I'm getting in deeper than I have any business getting, so do grant me grace.

The Cather in the Rye was recommended to me by a friend Steve Miller many months back. Having absolutely nothing but time on my hands these days, I opted to give it a read, knowing nothing about the book other than that it was a classic of sorts. Now, having read the book, I have learned a whole lot about it.

It was written in the late 40's, early 50's, and it's simply the story of a teen on his journey from being kicked out of prep school to home. The colloquial language used by Salinger is pretty in-your-face if you will, even today, which makes it hard for me to imagine how it was received at the time of publication.

All throughout the book the protagonist, Holden Caulfield, shares his brutally honest thoughts on events and people in which he comes in contact as he goes through his day. I was able to really identify with Holden in a lot of ways (and not at all in others). He, like me, is extremely opinionated, critical, unconventional, and sometimes hypocritical in his thought. He despises the "phoniness" he sees all around him that, as far as he can tell, goes unnoticed by everyone else.

Holden (hopefully unlike me) comes across as very negative, seemingly hating everything. However when you "get to know him" better (if you can do that with a fictional character), you realize that there are plenty of simple pleasures in which he takes great delight. He genuine loves his sister and his late brother. He enjoys the innocence of children, good books, and honesty in any way that it chooses to display itself.

Essentially, Holden is a kid who would normally get written off without second thought by most people, but because he shares his story with us in a very popular book, people are given the chance to look deeper into him as a person than what they see on the surface, which is always a good thing to do.

There you go. My first, and quite possibly last, review of a modern day classic.