Indiana Weekend (finally!)

Ah, now to settle down and write a good report of the weekend in Indiana. I’m trying to take more time to write these reports, to increase the quality of the writing and interest of the content. We’ll see how it goes :-)

Indiana is closer to our house than Akron, but further from work, since Nova is an hour west of West Mifflin and Indiana is east. So, it was a long drive out. And in classic PA style, when you look at a map there is NO clear way to get from Monaca to Indiana, even though it’s a straight shot east. I ended up following Ben, the safety intern at Nova, who was going back to IUP for the weekend. He knew the region well, and I trailed him through a bewildering string of podunky towns and stretching semi-rural countryside. We left at 3:45pm, and I got to the Altrogge’s house at about 6. It was dark, I was tired from a long day of work and a long complicated drive, and as I pulled up to the house I frowned at the dark interior and nearly empty driveway. Sure enough, only four-legged residents greeted my knocks and bell-rings at the door. I waved to Bella and Joanna as they wagged their tails and barked, called all Altrogge cell numbers I had, kicked around outside, and finally tried the door. It was providentially unlocked, and I greeted the excited dogs, who thankfully remembered me.

So, I started off the weekend by wandering around the Altrogge’s house for awhile! :-) I finally dug into a drawer, found a church directory, and called the Kims. As I was on the phone with Phil a car pulled into the driveway and David came running frantically to the door. I welcomed him and Johnny to the house, and the weekend began!

I met David 3 or 4 years ago at Youth Camp. We talked for a bit in the line for lunch, and on the last day he invited me over for a visit anytime. For some odd reason I, a lifelong home-centered homeschooler, took him up on his offer and traveled to a strange family’s house for a weekend with my relatively new driver’s license. I still don’t really know why, but David and I connected at a deep level, and I had an awesome weekend, unlike any before, with him and his graceful and welcoming family. I have visited periodically since then, talking with David, hanging out with peers from the Indiana church, recording in Mr. Altrogge’s sweet semi-pro basement studio, and having all kinds of crazy, highly un-Pittsburghian experiences.

We hit the weekend running, even though it had been between one and two years since I had been up for a visit. The parents were out for an overnight, so David, Johnny, Beth and I hit Subs ‘n’ Suds for sweet free pizzas. While waiting for the back-ordered pizzas we took a random stroll around the residential streets of the area. In a classic Indiana moment a member of our party needed a pit stop, so we walked up a few more blocks and popped in to the McKelvey’s house (A family from Lord of Life Church). Said hi to the mildly surprised family members, talked for a bit, and went on our way. :-)

After dinner David and I went down to the studio and I played some of the songs I’ve written. We didn’t have the recording bug, though, so instead we went upstairs and played music for eachother for about 2 hours. David had his Dad’s laptop, I had my iPod, and we swapped the 1/8^th inch jack leading to the sweet JVC stereo. I’m gonna buy The Blue Album by Weezer, and check out Sufjan Stevens. The Penguin Café Orchestra was pretty cool, too. It was great to share some of my favorite songs with someone who listened and cared, and to hear new and different music from an eclectic and discerning source.

Finally we finished the music and took a long walk around the neighborhood. It was one of those freaky days this winter when it’s 50 degrees and feels like Florida. So we strolled around in the almost-balmy-feeling night air, under the bright non-city stars, and caught up on nearly two years of thinking, writing, school, and God’s work in our lives. It was probably the highlight of the weekend. We both came away encouraged in God, more clear on our current situation, and equipped to pray for eachother and see how we’re doing. David is definitely on the short short list of people who talk back at an equal level and volume with me. It was a joy to walk and talk without time being a consideration, and to share and be shared with with depth and honesty.

The rest of the night we spent going to the Kearneys to deliver some stuff for Beth, who was staying the night there. We hung around and watched the deplorable end of “Red Eye,” and Sarah’s brothers’ snowboarding DVD’s. Pretty silly movie, and pretty funny little snowboarders :-P The sack was hit at about 1:30am, and wasn’t risen from until 11am. Three cheers for sleep!

Saturday was recording day. I arose wonderfully rested, showered, and then David, Johnny and I drove to The Coney, a restaurant in downtown Indiana (aka Philly Street) with legendary wings. They indeed lived up to their status, and beyond that it was great to hang out with Josh, Ben and Jim, getting to know them better. After lunch David and I went downstairs and started recording. We settled on my song “Day After Day,” which David liked a lot. I like it a lot too, and was excited to have a much-higher-quality studio to do it justice. Our only real breaks from recording were picking Beth up from the Kearneys, welcoming Mark and Kristi home, and eating some dinner.

*squints eyes in thought*. I am no longer blindly worshipping Mr. Altrogge’s studio as I have on past visits. Neither am I blindly using it and liking how it sounds. I can see and deeply appreciate the many nice things about at, and I can also hear and feel the limitations of it compared to a professional studio. Mostly, I came away realizing that a high-quality, clean input chain lets you pump the gain and compress it down without getting a bunch of hiss and weird artifacts. This means that whether you’re recording guitar or vocals, and whether you’re 1 inch or 20 inches from the mic, it sounds full and well-balanced. I bleed and fret and suffer and strain to get sounds that we got by just jacking the mic up and singing! It was wonderfully convenient, quick, and qualitious (word??). Joy. And much less envy and discontent than past visits. I do hurt for a good reverb, though :-(

Finally David started fading, so we closed down the mixing and mastering and went to bed. I feel almost like there was no Saturday this weekend, ‘cause I slept through half of it, and the recording time slipped away uncannily fast. 5 hours pass like 30 minutes down there. ‘Twas a great day though, and the ease and beauty of the recording challenges the previous night’s walk ‘n’ talk as the highlight of the weekend.

Sunday: sleep, church, Pizza Hut, mastering, Steelers Game, and lazing about. Mr. Altrogge’s message was excellent, as always, and really encourage me to pray with fervor and faith, in accord with my convictions of late. After church David, Josh, Jon, Bethany, Ruthie, Sarah and I hit Pizza Hut, splitting a Bigfoot pizza for a surprisingly cheap lunch. That was a fun time because there was mostly real conversation going on, and I got to catch up with peoples’ semesters and lives.

I found my way home solo since Dave was dropping off a couple people. I am finally getting a picture of Indiana geography, mostly because of the maps I looked at on yahoo.com, so I was able to get home fine, and even pop over to Sheetz to fill up my tank. In the hours between lunch and the Steelers game David and I mastered the song down in the studio. Mastering basically fills out a recording, and it made a BIG difference. Makes me realize what I’m missing in my recordings.

A little after 3 David drove me out to the Snyders’ house where folks were congregate for game-watching and food-snacking and out-hanging. I participated in all three, and it was a sweet time. The Steelers won soundly, and the snacks were of the finest quality and selection. Ian and his gf gave me a ride home through the early dark of the winter night, rolling up and down the Indiana hills and laughing at the lack of power of his trusty ol’ beater :-)

I sorta had dinner at the Snyders, so after David ate we both headed to “The Common Place,” a totally sweet little coffeehouse on the IUP campus. It’s….everything a coffeehouse is. Student paintings on the wall, a roaster set up in one corner, eclectic music playing quietly, a hand-written menu overflowing with specialty coffee concoctions, and walking, talking, coffee-quaffing college student stereotypes. David and I lolled on the couches, discoursed more about music and art, and talked on-and-off with Patrick, an interesting guy David knew, who was reading at a nearby table. It’s such a friendly, personalizing experience to walk into a place like that and see people you know. Makes me realize how big Pittsburgh is, and how disconnected I am from almost every normal social sphere. [Disconnected knowingly and by choice. Not complaining, just contemplating.]

They roast their own coffee at the Common Place, and I tell ya, it puts Starbucks to shame. I asked what was unique, and guided by the answer I took a bold step and ordered a “Trainwreck.” Three shots of espresso. Three pumps of vanilla syrup. Over ice. Don’t worry, I got decaf :-) It was powerful, as expected, and slightly different tasting. Without the cream to mitigate it, the natural sourness of the coffee came through in a strangely fruity character. Overall enjoyable, though. Different, and I would get it again, this time with non-decaf and a pump of a different flavor syrup. David also got me seconds—this time a normal decaf coffee. Delicious and delightful to sip and stare at as we talked on in the room full of quiet conversations and smooth jazz. Finally we heaved ourselves out of the couches cushions and drove home. I wish I knew a place like that in Pittsburgh that was close enough to chill at!

Nothing else much happened that evening, other than making a run for road snacks and a sugar-free Jones for Beth. I just didn’t feel like leaving for some reason, so I lolled around, played guitar, talked with David and Mr. Altrogge, and wished I didn’t have to work the next day. Finally I sighed, got up, and commenced the departure procedure. It had been a quick weekend, but all my goals had been accomplished: Catch up with David, record a song, hang out with Indiana peeps, and watch the Steelers game. The only thing we didn’t get done was watching “Stop Making Sense” by Talking Heads. Just another reason to come back, though :-)

The drive home was pretty neutral. I don’t remember if I listened to music, but I know I prayed on and off, recounting the things I’d said to and heard from David. I was not sad as I drove home, and I considered why. I’m certainly much more accustomed to fun weekend trips than the last time I went to Indiana, and this trip had the feeling of another one to come not too far in the future. Fundamentally, though, I think I really am sinking my roots into Jesus a bit. I’m just not “leaving it all behind” when I drive away from Akron or Indiana anymore. And especially with this weekend, the fun and joyful afterglow centered almost exclusively on God and the enjoyment of His gifts with his people. I left lifted up to God in joy, not crashing back down to normal life. David, you rock!

And I actually genuinely feel like saying this: Jesus You are so beyond rocking.

It’s just amazing the faith and guts He had to say what He said to the Pharisees and the people. The gospel of John has been amazing me this week as the weight of the lunacy of Christ’s claims becomes more apparent. Lunacy, that is, to anyone whose heart wasn’t being opened by the Father. And He didn’t spazz out about making everybody understand what He was saying, He just said what the Father told Him to, when He told Him to. Amazing. Marquis Laughlin, you too rock. You have brought the gospels to life for me, and for that I am, truly, forever grateful.

So. Wonderful weekend. As I think back on it, the “feel” of the weekend consists mostly of the richness of conversations. The recording is there, the Steelers game, the sweet foods, and the sweet sleeping in, but mostly I enjoyed sharing my life’s happenings and enjoyments with someone who listened, enjoyed, and shared back. Good times under a good God!

--Clear Ambassador

The Drive

As I was on the road this morning, pointed towards Monaca PA in the waning darkness, I thought I'd paint a picture of my drive, since it's a big part of my life five out of every seven days.

The first part of the drive, up until the long stretch of Carson Street, is dominated by 2 things: Oppressive freezing cold and trying to balance whatever cups, plates and bowls I have brought along for my breakfast. Oh, and trying to drive, too :-P Oooh, that car is SO cold in those mornings! It soaks in all night long as Pepsi Blue sits in the driveway, burying itself deep down in the steering wheel and seats and windowpanes, chilling the engine to its core. Even when the thermostat gets up to normal temperatures it takes about 10 minutes to get truly hot air out of the vents. This morning it was 16 degrees, so it was particularly noticeable.

The next stretch is between Carson Street and the Fort Pitt Bridge. It consists of lots of city driving, lots of using the clutch, camping out behind people in one-lane stretches and trying to get ahead in two-lane stretches. Oh, and it contains some of my least favorite driving ever: a couple-mile stretch on 2nd Avenue which is *technically* 2 lanes, but almost nobody gets over enough to fit 2 cars, and the right side has these horrible storm drains that wreak bloody havoc on my poor tires and suspension. You can either blow through there in a minute if nobody's around, or you can crawl behind a slowbie for 5 minutes, one foot away from being able to pass them.

The sad thing is those first two sections take half the time of the drive, but cover only about 1/4th the distance. The rest is flying down the parkway. From the Ft. Pitt Tunnel to Robinson Township it's pretty crowded, and you only fly if the left lane is unobstructed by inconsiderate slow passers or oblivious slow drivers. Sometimes people get irritated at me 'cause I leave a lot of room in front of me, but I always keep up the speed of the left lane, and if I can't I get right. A couple of the hills show up the limits of my 2-liter engine at highway speeds. *sigh*

The final section is the wide-open freeway from Robinson to the "Monaca Shippingport" exit. It gets very dark, and there is almost no traffic to require my attention, so this is where my eyelids start forcing themselves shut and the world starts to haze a bit if I haven't gotten enough sleep. Hateful feeling. If it weren't for this section I would probably arrive at work raring to go. As it is, I often get there really draggy and drowsy, which makes it hard to start poring over circle charts and entering data into Excel. Oh well.

The last thing in every morning's drive is the entrance into Nova. As I get close to the light where I turn in to the plant I sightlessly pop open the console and retrieve my badge. Slow for the light, turn in, coast up to the gate, scan the badge, and I'm in. Then I try to time my acceleration so I can catch the official time is on the big light-up display. Always 3 minutes less than my car clock, but I always wait to see it flash up. Then crawl at 15mph to the parking lot at the Engineering & Maintenance Building, pull into a spot, and wish I could tilt the seat back and sleep for 5 hours.

The drive home is . . . . another post for another day :-)

--Clear Ambassador

Several Scattered Thoughts (SST)

hmmph. I can start a load of laundry after dinner and utterly forget about it until the next day, but I remembered randomly in the shower tonight that I had forgotten to write down the pH measurements I'd taken at the Dylark sumps today. Without a second's doubt or hesitation I recalled the measured values: 2 for the maleic tank dike and 6 for the styrene tank dike. I signed in at the Dylark control room at 3:35pm and signed out at 3:45pm. The chlorine reading was 4.75 inches, taken exactly at 11:20am, the maximum residual chlorine amount in the potable water from yesterday was 2.12ppm. I could go on and recall more pH values and outfall temperatures and describe the numerical variation of yesterday's turbidity readings, but I think my point is made. My mind is weird, and for some reason it has a great propensity for remembering certain incidental numbers (The phone number for the honor's college at Pitt is 412-624-6880) while totally forgetting important and relevant and recent things. Ugh.

God's merciful answer to fervent and frequent prayers, plus some jedi-like reflexes, saved me from a car accident this afternoon. After pushing through my second day of horrible snow/ice/rain on the parkway, with instant death/injury only a brake-tap or wheel-turn away, I was coasting up to a stoplight on a small road 10 minutes from home, my eyes watching a funky glimmering light, trying to figure out why it was glimmering. A second later I was 20 feet further, in the same lane, having just wrenched the wheel hard left and then hard right to avoid the butt of a car that had backed out of a driveway into my path.
My mind started to process what had just happened, and the huge shot of adrenaline worked its way through my blood system, crunching up my stomach, throbbing my leg muscles, and giving me a surging mental high. I marveled at the faster-than-thought action of the human body in extreme situations, and if I wouldn't have been driving I would have dropped on my knees and thanked God for answering my prayers and guiding my subconscious reflexes to perfectly respond to the situation. There is no thought in an event like that, and I am ineffably relieved that I reacted properly. Jamming on the brakes would have sent me sliding into the car. I don't remember exactly what was there--a car in the left lane, somebody turning--but turning hard left would have sent me into someone else. I just whipped one turn left, braked till I started slipping, whipped back right, and rolled along my way, wishing I'da honked at the idiot who just almost wrecked my day. Thank you Lord! Please keep watching over me!

--CA

Gotta catch that air

THIS is what I should do with my Mazda! Especially the huge puddle of water to swash through after the jump :-)

[This post is in honor of our dear friend Mike Quinlisk. Video found and shared by Nate Rutman. Blog supported by viewers like you.]

Little Highlights

Some little highlights from my day at NOVA:

- The Good & Plenty's I snacked on all morning.
- Combining the warmed-up turkey and cheese with the two pieces of toasted bread for a delicious lunch.
- "FIIIRE!!" blasting through my speakers, sending me skittering to the volume knob, as Petra came on after a hushed song from Yo Yo Ma and the Silk Road Ensemble. All-library shuffle is awesome!
- Realizing that "Prec." stands for "Precipitators," meaning the second sump source on drawing AK-7771 is "Precipitator blowdown header at filter plant"--something that makes sense!
- Hearing music from Star Wars Episode I, which took me back the computer game of our childhood, "The Phantom Menace." Good memories, great music!
- Twice solving problems and giving firm answers to people by doing nifty searches through the complex waste shipments database. It's cool to feel useful, and to know how to do stuff other people don't. Mebbe I'm actually earning my pay! :-P
- Going to a site-wide meeting to hear a report on 2005 and our objectives for 2006. Lots of free food, and it knocked 2.5 hours out of the day.

The lowlight was driving home through the amazing downpour of rain, then clumpy snow/rain (snain??), then snow, then rain, then ice, and then more rain. My fervent prayers for protection were clearly answered, and I am at home now alive, and better yet, with no accidents.

$55 at Lawrence Music for a new saddle (synthetic ivory insteady of crappy plastic), new strings, and a set-up (adjusting the action and intonation) for my second acoustic (the plug-in one). It sounds much better now, mostly 'cause of the new heavy-gauge strings. Another half-a-hundred down the music drain...

I was in Indiana, PA this past weekend visiting David Altrogge. Trip report to come soon. It was a GREAT trip. God's people are matchless!

--Clear Ambassador

Yep, I'm an idiot

Just in case you were wondering, today did indeed turn out fine. I slept an hour (by choice) got to work 40 minutes after 7, stayed till 4, dropped off 2 guitars at Lawrence Music on the way home to get work done on them, ate a great healthy dinner, and came up here to do homework. I ended up reading the CD booklet for The Young & The Hopeless by Good Charlotte. Quite engaging and genuine-seeming, and emotionally honest and bare (like I like to be). Good music too, once I popped the CD in. I'm working on the problems a bit now, as I import songs into iTunes, but I'm really not that worried about turning in fully-completed homework sets. I took time to read chapter two slowly, and understood what I could from the text. Work went well, I got another project to work on (with clear action points, yay!), and the stop at the music store was sweet. Apparently I'm the envy of the whole staff because of Doug, the 70's Fender tube amp I picked up for $100 :-) One guy was like, "Is that that Fender...the one with the french fries in the back? Aw man, I wanted that!" :-) It's cool to have a piece of gear that's respected by professionals like those guys. I'm also excited to get this new regime of pickup switching installed in my Strat. I will have 17 different combinations of pickups to choose from!! Dude, I can't wait.

So, yeah. Life is good, even if I'll be turning in two half-completed homeworks tomorrow in class and my room is still messy and I don't know when I'll do laundry and I'll have to spend almost every weeknight next week working on this class.

And you know what breaks me down a bit? And THIS is why I wrote that post last night, and why I put it up on the internet, instead of just saving it in "My Documents." I was struck on the drive home as Marquis Laughlin read with hushed voice Mark's simple account of Jesus' arrest, "trial," and death. I was going on and on last night about all I was giving up, and the bleakness and hardness of the future, as I thought through the causes of my feelings. But I have only barely tasted loneliness, loss, broken relationships and pain. Jesus gave up INTIMATE LIFE WITH GOD THE FATHER as He approached the cross. He hung there with no bottom to His pain, no net to catch His fall from the Father's love, no caveat to lessen the brutal blade of God's wrath as it cut into His flesh and soul.

I literally got shivers up my back when it came to the part where Jesus uttered "a loud cry" and gave up the ghost. I imagine Christ endured the scourging silently, but for the reflexive groans of His physical body. I doubt He screamed as the nails were pounded through his wrists and ankles. I doubt He cried out beyond a sharp gasp as the cross slipped into its slot, popping out his shoulders. But when God turned His face away, Jesus cried out (illogically, by the way) "My God, My God! Why have You forsaken Me?" He knew why. He knew what He was doing; but still He couldn't help but cry out as He lost the Father. And in the end, when God's wrath came pouring down out of the holy throne room, Jesus screamed. He wrenched out with all the breath in His lungs. And died.

Jesus walked all the way down the horrific road of lonely temptation, comfortless pain, and bottomless suffering. And the rest of the New Testament goes on to celebrate what He won for us after He reached the end of that road. He did what I cannot imagine going through with, and all of heaven and earth will throw themselves down before Him at the last day and cry out, "Worthy is the Lamb Who was slain, to receive blessing and glory and honor, forever and ever."

AMEN. Look at Him tonight, please.

--Clear Ambassador

Caution: un-niceified thoughts ahead...

Here’s what I have to look forward to the next 3 months:

I have no independent life from 11pm to about 4:30pm the next day, each weekday. Except for Thursday, when I have no life until 9:00pm. Why from 11? Work doesn’t start till 7 or 7:30. Well, if I don’t get to bed by 11 at the very latest, the deathly sleepiness that hits me the next day doesn’t really qualify as “life.” The only time that’s left unaffected is the weekends, up until late Sunday afternoon, when Monday morning approaches. Sweet those weekends are, though they’re only 2/5ths of time, and they are not entirely free of the stacked-up requirements left by the shrunken weekdays.

Do you see what my days are like?? Every hour after 9pm threatens, condemns and jeers me with the lack of sleep it will produce. Every minute of my time is overshadowed by the looming threat of death on the roads the next morning, crippled productivity at work, and sapped initiative and energy at home. And when that time is gone, there is no recourse, nothing to help, nothing to change. It is 11:15 now. It will be 11:30 at least by the time I get into bed. I am damned, I am utterly helpless. The morning will go on, and a few hours will find me torn out of desperately-needed sleep, whipping down a dark highway at 67 miles an hour, and then sitting at a desk with great obligations and greater expectations upon me.

And on top of all of this, which is co-op rotation norm, I now have “Intermediate Physical Chemistry.”

6pm – 8:30pm every Thursday. Now not only do I suffer at work, but if I’m not getting enough sleep, the intense lecture passes by in a haze. Now not only do I have only a few crumbling hours each evening, but those hours are claimed by weekly homework. And it’s not a nice sit-down-for-3-hours-and-do-it homework. The professor is good, passionate, AND he has written this textbook. So he refers us to passages to read on our own, with no explanation in lecture, and those topics are included in the large set of lengthy, deep problems. These are not look-up-and-chug problems. These are problems which are probably pretty interesting and titillating to someone who knows Thermo like I know guitar. As in, our professor. I’m a smart person, and I was completely floored by several of the problems, unable to write even one equation or assumption or condition down. THIS is the depth of learning that I must get to to do well in this class. This kind of learning comes when you sell yourself to the subject, read the textbook, think, ponder, talk to the professor, and suffer through weeks of ignorance and confusion. And I only have a few hours every day to do this in!! And those hours are already over over over full with dozens of other pressing and attractive activities like family, church, friendships, recording, writing, practicing, playing, and room/life maintenance. Oh, and I’m supposed to be throwing my life into God now for this semester, diving into the spiritual disciplines, fasting, reading, praying, digging in to the relationships here at church. On what OTHER set of 24 hours???

Right now I am enveloped in one of my LEAST favorite feelings in all of life I’ve experienced so far (A few others have come up in the last 2 months. Hell of a time.): The sick despair of seeing what you need to know and do for a class and seeing that you are significantly behind that marker. I’ve experienced it with Thermo 2, Transport, Biochem, and several other classes. Every time it comes it grinds and grates me. Every time I get an A in the class. And I know what it takes to get that A, and I feel such utter hatred for doing that in this semester that I seriously wonder if it’s time to suck up a B or a C and just ditch the whole frikking class. I’m already basically ditching this homework since I gave it 3 hours and only got a couple of the problems, and I have a whole second set to do before Thursday since the textbook was inexplicably under-ordered and late-arrived at the bookstore last week. More than the points of homework, though, is the sick feeling of not knowing and comprehending at the level I need to, and feeling the hardness of thought and amount of time that will be required to get to that level of understanding. That is what is making me despair right now. I don’t want to put that in. The thought of putting it in is ineffably dry, difficult and dreary, and when I think of the precious precious time it will suck from the coming months, I just want to smash a large pane of glass with an axe, or punch my fist bloody on a wall.

Time, I hate you. I despise and hate you like a cringing dog hates the man who beats it—I can do nothing to stop you. The only remedies for the iron grasp of time is to let go more and more of the things I love—the things that flow from who I am. I could have spent 3 more hours on this homework tonight if I would not have worked on recording a new song that thrilled me on the drive home and has potential to be a beautiful representation of what I’ve been going through this past year. If I spend all the time I have every weekday other than rudimentary meals and barebones church and family events working on this class, I will do fine in it. I could even use the spare time to clean up my room and catch up on the elusive swirling tasks that have nagged me for weeks.

But what about working out every Monday, Wednesday and Friday right after getting home from work? What about the music that flows from my soul and delights my mind and heart like nothing else does? I can not and will not shut those things out, yet I don’t see how they can fit with this class, given the inescapable constriction of a full time job an hour away.

I believe this fully expresses my temporal situation. I feel like utter crap right now. If this is what “being a man” is, then being a man sucks. I cannot picture carrying out the lifeless days that appear to be required of me ahead. Life was bleak enough when I gave up AIM and other friendships to turn to the Lord. Now those days are looking golden and carefree.

And you know what’s most irritating of all? I’m being a complete idiot about all of this. No life could be as bad as I have pictured it above. I’ve felt this way before, and life goes on and I go merrily on through it. Every pouting, self-pitying, despairing word I type condemns me as a little stupid baby, while the specter of “a man” stands over me and condemns me. I am a stupid, weak, pleasure-ruled, lazy, undisciplined and immature idiot. The more I write, the more I drive myself down that hole. The further I distance myself from where I should be, and need to be.

. . .

I bet tomorrow morning I’ll feel pretty much fine when I wake up, and go on about my day, going through the hours tired or not, coming home, hopefully working out…it’s likely that when I come back to the homework on a fresh mind I’ll realize things and get further through it that I expected. And regardless, I’ll go to class Thursday, turn it in, and sit through the lecture as the time winds by. I will continue to work on the song that I thought of today, I will spend my entire weekend in Indiana with David Altrogge, and the next week will come. And it will go. And the first exam will come. And the first exam will go. I am trying to swallow all of that right now, and it is grinding me into sick misery. I feel the weight of all that will happen pounding upon me now. I look at what I imagine I will have to do, and hate the picture that develops.

But I’ll wake up tomorrow, and go to work, and talk to Tom, and laugh, and eat lunch, and enjoy the music on my iPod…..

Times like this, though, feel like they make the rest of my life irrelevant. I see what I am, and how my life goes on and on with undone tasks, sleep-deprived hazes, and mounds and mounds of things that should be and need to be but that aren’t. I look at my normal state as stupidly-happy incompetence, letting slip nearly all of necessity for scattered flights of pleasure and interest. I look at Ken, and his life, and marvel at its perfect purposefulness and discipline, and hate my life for its childishness. “A man” would never write a journal like this.

And outside of all these thoughts here sits God, who really doesn’t give a rip about almost any of this that I’ve been blubbering about. He sees this world for what it is, and wants me to throw myself into Him, taking all my pain and regret and despair and hatred and self-pity and fear and killing it on His altar. It is the sacrifice of all this that makes a man a man, and it is that sacrifice that I don’t want to do. I don’t see how I can shut down all of that, and I don’t want to give it up. But as always, I can’t do it all now, swallow it all now, shut it all off now, and utterly change who I am as a person. Day by day I walk, and God works. He doesn’t care if my life is like Ken’s. He doesn’t care if I respect myself as my idea of “a man.” He cares about His glory, and He wants to make much of Himself, and He knows that I will love that too, when these things are peeled off of me. What saddens me so is that there is no glory there for me. No grounds for self-pity, no grounds for enjoying myself and my stuff. Just letting go of all of me and caring about God.

Hm. But God made me who I am, and I bet He’ll use that IN that enjoyment of Himself. It doesn’t sound like God to require us to completely kill and forsake our individualities and personalities and drown ourselves in Him. That sounds more like eastern mysticism. Christianity is different because God is a person, and He is good. He’s all about His glory, yes, but He has tied that in with us, and made us to be fulfilled and delighted in His glory too.

I have no (or pitiful little) experience of that happening in a practical, continuing manner in myself. Ergo this despair of the future, ergo this self-pity at the bleak lifeless future that awaits me. Ergo my despising of myself. Ergo shutting myself up and going to bed, not stuffing these feelings down, but realizing that they are not the end of the story.

--I can’t even think of a signature to use that is honest but isn’t whiny and self-pitying. So here it is, all 2 sentences of it.

HAH. Whatever I feel like, there is ONE signature I can always use:

--Son of God

Sweet sweet practice

Good times. 28 hours in Akron, 9 hours of sleep, 8 or so hours of practice, 4 hours of driving, and about 3 hours' pay spent.

I left work early Friday since I had finished up the day's tasks and wouldn't have spent my time profitably. Arrived about 4:15, chilled with the dancers, jammed with Steve, and then set up when they were finished in the dance room. Brian came over, we had spaghetti, and then hit the practice. Pretty much went over our standard songs from our standard set. Renovated "My Plea," which really needed renovation, and is now pretty sweet and tricked-out. Stopped about 9:30 'cause my voice was gone. Hung out, got Philip to bed, and ended up going over to the Chima's for the night. Bed at 1:30, and I awoke from a sound sleep promptly at 9:30. Guess I'd gotten my 8 hours. I went back to sleep, though, till 10:30. Bri shower, me shower (no regular soap! I've smelled like creamy coconut body wash all day :-P), time wasting, and finally headed out.

We had TACO BELL...for BREAKFAST...at LUNCHTIME.

Pretty much sums up everything sweet about the first half of Saturday. "Sweet practice with amiable and adaptable musicians" probably sums up the other half. We played more songs, took awhile to get warmed up, and finally set about constructing a song from an idea Brian had. It's basically death metal craziness into happy Pure Boss sweetness. Amazing. Lots and lots of work into that song, and my right foot became incapacitated due to frenzied double-kicking. The drumming was very fun, though, and I'm respecting Brian and Stephen more and more on their respective instruments. They do stuff I can't do, and together we make a hot sweet band. (Hot modifies sweet, not band)

Wrapped it up at about 6:30, Bri took off, Steve and I took my stuff down, and I loaded the car, ate spaghetti, and talked to Mrs. Hoffman. Steve-O went to see "Glory Road" and Mr. H watched the playoffs. Finally I bid farewell and slipped down the icy driveway, ten minutes after 8, my target latest departure time. The drive back was quite good and neutral. I was a bit dehydrated from this stupid lingering cold, and I couldn't find the Braeburn apple I had been craving, but I was plenty awake, the road was friendly, I slid the seat back, and there were a couple things from the Bible CD that stood out to me as Marquis Laughlin read through Matthew. "Whenever two or three are gathered together, I am there." Pure Boss is three, gathered together in the basement of the Hoffmans. God is there with us! That's cool, and partially sobering. We oughta do what we do for Him, and aware of Him. "Why did you doubt?" (as Peter sunk into the Sea of Galilee on his way walking to Jesus). He could have said "Don't doubt, it's silly!" or "You should not have doubted." But He just said, "Oh you of little faith, why did you doubt?" Why do I doubt? It's a simple question, and forthright consideration of it will yield the statements above, and many others. It is also partially rhetorical, given the fact that Jesus was standing on the water Himself. It shows how foolish doubt in God is, when things are viewed in the proper perspective. And it is kind. He doesn't upbraid Peter, He just asks. Child; friend; My son. Why do you doubt?

So yeah, it was a good weekend, and I was glad that as I left I didn't feel distant from God in my thoughts. That's an indicator that the weekend was not spent off in a flurry of my own, filling my mind and obscuring God. We had worked hard, talked, and chilled before Him, and I believe our time was spent profitably, as well as quite pleasantly and productively.

I sure hope we can record a second album! Future self, have you recorded a second album? Heh, I wish I knew. Geez, I sure wish I knew what I'm doing now, as I read this. But now is the time that I'll be looking back on, and I've got to both work through it and, more importantly, enjoy and exploit it to its fullest potential. When else in my life will I be praying with the ferocity of undeterminedness about school, job, career, wife, calling, location, and fundamental relationship with God?? In probably 5 years all of those will be more or less set. Now is the time of unknown, open future, many possibilities, and great potential. This time will be past someday, but right now I'm living it, and I don't want it to go by unappreciated or unrealized.

Lord God my Father, direct my steps by Your word I pray, and let no iniquity have dominion over me. Align my heart with Your will, perfect Lord, and please give me wisdom. Thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory forever.

Amen.

--Clear Ambassador

Tres cosas

Three things that are sweet:

1. Taking 60 North instead of 60 South this afternoon when I leave work (Meaning I'm going to Akron).
2. iPod with 10 gigabytes of music on shuffle. RelientK Christmas meets Lynrd Skynrd meets peaceful Phil Keaggy acoustics meets throbbing Nordic folk music meets Star Wars.
3. Posting from work :-D

Sleep is sweet, too, but I don't have enough of that right now.

--Clambassadorear

F breeds C

Jesus, help me not devalue Your friendship merely because of its certainty :-/

The cost of fitness

How do you motivate yourself to work out? Try paying $140 for a 3-month membership to a gym! Dude, even if I work out 3 times a week every week of the membership period (which already ain't gonna happen), it still works out to be about $4 per visit.

But if it will get me to work out, it's worth it.

And it's not too bad considering the cost is covered by a day's wages at Nova.

Here's to pumped-up muscles after working out making you feel like your buff :-D

--JPB

PS - how deeply ironic that in America now you have to pay such an extraordinary amount for the *privelidge* of working your body. Most of the rest of the world either works their bodies or dies! :-/

Five Peeps and a Beagle

WE ARE ALL HOME!

And by "all," I actually mean Dad, Mom, Ken, John, Daniel and Daisy--the full compliment of Pittsburgh Behrenses.

Mom has been gone since December 14th, as has Daniel (disregarding a 2-day stint here before flying to Orlando to run a half marathon in Disney World). Ken and Dad joined me here last Tuesday after Christmas/New Year's and today saw Daniel's airborne return from Florida and Mom's land-based arrival from Chicago. Verily, not in...months? A year? have we all been here together. Pretty cool. Mostly way cool to have Mom, Daisy and Daniel back. Ken is always gone, but their absence was felt keenly. Though God did use it to show me that I can indeed live alone, or mostly alone, and survive in a state other than abject misery. In fact, I'll have to watch now that I don't set my plates down on the hearth or leave candy up on my bed, since the little four-legged food monster is back on the prowl :-)

Grandpa is home from the hospital now (after a month there!), which is the biggest piece of good news in a long time. He's still very weak and eating little, but he walks around a bit and has at least some semblance of normalcy to his life. Grandma is now full time nurse and keeper of the house, which is a challenge only God's grace can (and is) meet(ing).

My co-op job is going pretty well, though the magnitude and difficulty of my work load is challenging my innate laziness, and the early mornings are ruining my evenings. 'Tis good, though, and fertilizer to the field of my character. (hmm. Some parallels with manure come to mind... :-P)

Funny how easy it is to fill time in the evenings, even with AIM gone. Ugh.

I'm off to read the Gospel of John. Holy Spirit, please turn my eyes to Christ! Fill my gaze with Him, as You love to do, and may that captivation propel me to ditch sin and enjoy God.

Direct my steps by your word, and let no iniquity have dominion over me.
Make Your face shine upon Your servant, and teach me Your statutes (Ps. 119:133 & 135).

Thusly does the psalmist voice the cries of my heart with the words of God.

--Clear Ambassador

A few items

This first item is not a journalistic entry addressed to my future self. It is actually intended for whoever is reading this blog at the moment:

There are many many things which are harmful for our bodies. Many of these occur naturally but are harmful in excess, especially over time. Some of these do not need to be in excess in order to be experienced or enjoyed. Two items in this last category are salt and high frequencies.

Salt is in nearly everything we eat, and adding it makes almost any food immediately taste better. However, long-term excessive consumption of salt is harmful (I don't know the specific effects. ..Shannon?). I have made it a conscious decision for a long time to not add any salt to the food I'm served. It's a clear action I can do to significantly lower my long-term salt intake. Yes, giving a shake of salt would make many things taste better (sometimes things really needed it :-P) , but I have found that 4 times out of 5, after a minute or two, I don't even notice it. You can wean yourself from salt, and fully enjoy eggs, meat, casseroles, pasta, etc. without adding any extra.

High frequencies in sound are very similar. Any sound, when loud enough, damages our hearing, but high frequencies contain the most energy, and thus are the most damaging. Play around with an EQ for a few minutes, though, and you'll find that turning up the highs instantly makes any music sound a lot better to your ears--clearer, more distict, more present, more pleasing. As with salt, though, if you just don't turn up the highs in your car, or in your headphones on your laptop, or wherever, within 30 seconds you won't notice the difference. Your ears are startlingly adept at acclimating to sound characteristics, so even if it sounds flat and lifeless at the moment when you take down the highs, 5 minutes later you'll be blissfully unaware, and you'll have taken one more little step towards prolonging your lifelong hearing. Over time you will train your ears to fully enjoy music without needing to slam the treble to get tht "crisp high."

So: I want to encourage you to eschew the salt shaker and keep your high EQ flat, or even dip it down, if you get that far. They are very simple, easy actions to do, and will yield certain long-term benefits.

Now back to blogging as normal...

I've been thinking about this blog lately, spurred by some strong uneasiness about a few past posts, and mostly about ideas I've had for things to post about. I have sensed the tendency to fall into Thoreau's error of elevating commonalities to unrealistic significance, dedicating attention to pedestrian details of my life that is laughably unwarranted. I am a big fan of unshielded honesty (except where it would not serve others) and the value of the spontaneous, and in the past I have run with that, justifying my posts by the purportedly inherent value of top-of-the-head thoughts and impressions. I still fundamentally think that that is a good philosophy for dealing with other people, but I have come to realize that my motivation for writing about little things that come to my mind can be simply pride, springing from a desire to portray my life and mind as incredibly significant and meaningful.

Pfft. :-P

So, I will still write up stuff, put forth my life with no unneccesary concealment, and depict as best I can who I am, but I will not consciously indulge my inflated pride and introspective delusions of significance. Is it helpful to wax eloquent about naming my iPod Jack? It is true that I thought about many names, as I stared at it, and none of them "fit" until Jack, but it's not that big of a deal. I shouldn't waste my words portraying it as though it is. It is helpful to think long and hard about my decision to quit AIM and the reasons for it, since clarification of that topic will serve my readers and remind myself, in the future, of what God was doing in my heart at this time.

So, *sigh*, I find myself indeed, after many protestations, applying a filter to the thoughts that I skim off the top of my head. I myself do not bear inherent significance (much as I'd like to think so), and thus I must subject my thoughts and feelings to the criteria of the only One who does carry self-existent worth: The creator God.

May His face shine upon every word I type here.

--Clear Ambassador

AIM

Well, here's part of what was making me so sad after the Akron trip. As I was driving along in the dark car I was playing something on the satellite radio. It was crackling a bit, which usually means the FM channel it's transmitting to is being used by a regular radio station. So I shut off the XM so I could find an unoccupied frequency. In an instant "Stars" by Switchfoot was filling my car. It was apparently playing on the station that I was on, and the volume had been up for the satellite radio. That familiar music pounded through me, and I very nearly just sunk into it, letting the song which had been with me though so many trips and experiences and emotions just carry along all my feelings and undefined sadness. But I balked at that, since it wouldn't be honoring the intent with which the guys in Switchfoot made the song. So I held out and focused on the words, as the music poured through me. It built up, and when it hit the chorus, "When I look at the stars...I see Someone else," I just cried. I cried hard. I cried exactly until all the chemicals built up in my body from the emotions of the morning had excreted themselves through my tear ducts, and then stopped. But I didn't cry because of chemicals, I cried because that music gave me a glimpse of what I was doing these days. I was coming home and turning on the computer, seeking there warmth and light and companionship to make me feel "settled" and bring me joy. I had begun to realize lightly in the weeks and days before that those longings needed to be taken to God, and I needed to rest my feet on HIM when I came home to an unfriendly and empty room at night.
I cried because I saw God looking down on me as I turned this way and that, throwing myself upon others, disregarding His imminent riches and worth, opened up to me by His wrenching sacrifice.
I cried for the grief I had caused God, my God, sitting in heaven while I poured myself into the earth.
And I knew right then, as Jon Foreman's voice cut through the car, that I had to uninstall AIM from my computer. There could be no justification for leaving it on there, given what I saw now. And in that realization I saw the picture--as I cut off that lifeline (for that really is what AIM is for me), I would have NO CHOICE but to fall on God. It would force the issue, and precipitate the reality of relationship I have been painfully lacking for so long.

Now, uninstalling AIM alone will not thoughtlessly and effortlessly bring this change. I've got to keep myself from seeking the same comfort in this blog, or in emails, or in other forms of communication. When I feel that weird nasty bottomless alone feeling, I've got to take it to God. When the room around me seems bleak and the night gaping and friendless, I've got to take out my Bible and read it with my heart hanging out over the words. I've got to take my desires to God to be met. It was dumb to expect that I could continue sucking pleasure from AIM and God would somehow blast in and create in me a functional dependent relationship on Him. Yes He can, yes he sure's heck saved me out of the blue from total rebellion from Him...but it's not right to just sit back and expect Him to effortlessly work all these huge heart changes in me. As God is real, I will lean into Him with my present and real feelings and needs. (Feelings are real in that they are actually experienced; not that they accurately represent factual reality)

Such is my reason for hitting the "Uninstall AOL Instant Messenger" item from the pop-up menu. I see now that it's still going to be a battle, since the time for reading and praying in the evenings doesn't just present itself, and I can easily turn to other things to make myself feel better. But I've made a big change, and I made it in firm hopes of change and growth.

The next four or six months are a key time in my life. If I don't get my relationship with God grounded and settled in a practical and enduring manner, how can I expect to do so any easier as I enter the last brutal months of ChemE classes and approach an unknown future of job and hopefully family?

Onerous are the duties which require themselves of me. Bleak, in many ways and many moods, is the future that stares at me. Sickeningly weighty are the years that hang in the balance. Stern is the model that I fall so short of. If I could pick any one thing to NOT do, it would be this: forsaking the known and joyous comforts of free time and IM and spending my fleeting hours and flying energy on God. I despair of this because I don't yet know the pleasures that are at God's right hand. But even now the emotion of the past few days has calmed down a lot, and I'm more aware of the pragmatic peace of God's sovereignty and the simple things that need to be done in the coming days.

I've got a lot to think about, a lot to do, and a LOT hinging upon the next few months. I don't know when I'll return to Instant Messenger, and I don't know what else God might call me to give up, and I cannot picture what I will look like as someone who actually loves God and enjoys Him Himself and does spiritual disciplines. It is a void I'm stepping into, and in the mood I'm in right now, I'm somewhat expectant to see what will turn out to be in that void.

Peace out.

--Clear Ambassador

Hoo baby!

Well. Quite a weekend; and it didn't even feel like a weekend! More like a nice long timeless stay in Akron where I wasn't real concerned with the imminent return home. Having a paid day off Monday helped :-)

As cryptically indicated in my previous post, I drove home from Chicago Wednesday. A good drive. Worked Thursday and Friday, still trying to catch up on all the regular duties that had accumulated in my absence. Thursday night I spent about four hours remixing "Trav'ling Far Into the Night." I mixed at a deeper level than I think I ever have before, listening through 3 different sets of speakers, building it up track by track, and FINALLY, exhiliratingly, getting a kick drum sound that rivals a professional recording. Ahhhhhhhh :-) :-)

Friday I worked fast, got the hours past, and soon happily headed back to Akron down the familiar freeway. It was a chilly, rainy and darkening drive, but I had plenty of sunshine in my heart (*groan*), and dug into Nordic Roots 2, reading the CD booklet as I listened and learning a lot about the Scandanavian folk revival of the 90's and the instruments, musicians and traditions of this cool corner of the world music scene. I pulled up to the Hoffmans a little after 5 and furrowed my brows at the dark house and vacuous driveway. Heh, I would have gone in anyway, but a kind note taped to the door assured me that I could come on in to the house while they were all at the gym. And of course, rather than unload without my helpers I played Stephen's drums and waited for my hosts to arrive :-P They finally got there, we unloaded and milled around, and when Mike got home we all piled into the sedan and headed to a deluxe dinner at The Macaroni Grill, courtesy of a gift certificate the Hoffmans had received. We weren't the only ones wanting to eat at said restaurant, and ended up not getting seated 'till about 8:20. During which interminable wait we were sitting right in front of the open kitchen, watching the lavish dishes being prepared fragrantly before us :-( I much appreciated Mrs. H asking a waitress to get me some bread and olive oil to bring me out of my low blood sugar stupor. It was a fun time sitting there at the table with all the Hoff-meisters, talking, joking, writing profundities on the tablecloth, drinking copious amounts of Dr.Pepper, and feeling honored to be a part of their family. After dinner and frenzied shifting of plans over the phone, we ended up all driving home and then Mike, Steve and I drove back to the same area to see "Narnia" at the theater. I was glad to finally see the much-trumpeted movie, and it was certainly enjoyable, but it didn't grip the depths of my soul as I sort of expected. Liam Neeson's voice was terrible for Aslan, IMSNHO. I'm waiting to see it again, to form more reasonable opinions of it.

That night Steve and I hung around for a long time playing guitar, doing AIM, writing, and talking. Eventually we tried to be good boys and shut the light off and get some sleep, but we laid wide awake and talked till 6am! At which horrendous hour of quiet darkness I took some calcium and B vitamins and Steve took some chips and salsa. Mom #2's witch doctor medicine put me to sleep in about 15 minutes, and I slept till 11. Pretty odd night, but good talkin', and good times with Steve-O.

Saturday I showered, ate the breakfast Mrs. H cooked up for me, and zipped over to the Turners. I was spending that night with them since the Hoffman's New Years plans precluded use of their house for lodging. Turns out they were all going down to visit some land they were about to buy, so I tagged along for the day. We had a nice drive down (about 1.5 hours) despite pretty muchly deplorable weather. I DJ'd an eclectic sampling of music from my CD collection and got to hear sweet stories about the Turners' tenure in Brazil. We ended up spending almost 3 hours at the land with the Hendricksons, exploring the "Trailer Park", walking up Turner Mountain, surveying Camp Greenlakes, and generally just chillin' it out in Johnland :-D [Various names proposed the following day at lunch]. The land is quite cool, and looks to be loaded with deer on the big ridge behind the lake and trailer and unfinished house.

Eventually we bundled back into our cars, cranked the heat, and tried to dry away the chill and wetness of our rainy explorations. Quite a rainy drive home, and I began to despair of the planned evening of wandering around downtown at "First Night Akron." Mercifully, though, the rain let up about when we got back to the Turners, and as Rebekah, Stephen, Adam Hendrickson and I walked around that night we were but lightly spattered with spit from the sky. The evening was great fun. The group seemed to bring out the best in eachother--Rebekah was happy, I was not too stupid, and Adam and Stephen were hangoutable without being banal. Indeed, the venerable Bekster veritably skipped as we neared the skating rink. Yes, we got to ice skate--for more than an hour! I haven't skated in years, and once I got over my initial wobbliness and got used to my dull right skate blade, it was a blast. And as we coasted around the oval of ice and the music played from the single garbage-bag-covered speaker, the 10:30 kids fireworks went off, popping in the night sky above the buildings of downtown Akron. Good times :-)

At about 11pm Steve headed off to his Grandma's apartment for the night and Bek, Adam and I drove to the Hendricksons, joining their family, the T parents, and DT to ring in the new year. After getting tugged around the house by Josh H, my new little buddy, I chilled on the floor with him while we went around and shared something God was showing us that we wanted to take into this new year. It was good to hear what God was doing in different people, and to contemplate what He would continue to do in the year ahead. When the big ball dropped in New York we cracked the bubbly and hung out in a celebratory mood till about 1am. Quite a long day, and utterly different than any other day I've had in Akron so far. David lent me his guitar, and I played myself to sleep that night in the big chair downstairs, eventually rousing myself enough to brush my teeth and call Jack (their awesome dog) downstairs for a comfortable night of sinking sleep.

Church Sunday was good. Good to sing and worship with some great songs, good to hear Pastor Jim refresh the message of the Gospel and the wonder of grace, and good to catch up with friends. I also had an idea of something to share during worship, regarding God being already on the throne surrounded with worship when we "start up" our morning service. I wasn't sure if it would work to share it, but when the second song about "the throne" came up, I figured God was telling me something :-) I've been praying for a long time for God to speak to me like that, and give me things to share, so it was cool to have something to say.

After church I hung out for awhile and then headed back to the Turners for lunch at their invitation. Their oldest son Mike and his wife Katie were there as well, and it was nice to get to know them better. Lunch was delish and then we sat around and proposed names for the land. Finally, after paring down the list by voting, we ended up downstairs watching the Browns game. Being the incredibly dedicated Pittsburgh fan that I am, I soon found myself cheering for the Browns :-P Chad came to the door 'round about halftime and invited all interested parties to join the Tuminos and Mallinacks on a walk about the neighborhood. So Rebekah saddled up Jack and the three of us joined the crew. We ended up meandering down to the park and playing frisbee, and Brian, Nick and Alex Morgan randomly happened to be in the neighborhood and stopped by and tossed disc for awhile, and it was fun. Good to throw and catch a frisbee again. Jack is way cool, too. He probably weighs about as much as I do, and his head's bigger than mine, but he's so friendly and mild-mannered, he's a bit like a cat. 'Cept when he pushes up against you he almost knocks you down :-P

After walking around and standing around for a long time, Bek Jack and I headed back to the house. Then to fulfil my obligations to Jess. For stealing her flowers last time I was in Akron I was bound to procure and hand delivere a dozen yellow roses to her house. She had forgotten about it, so the surprise went as planned, and the roses were well received. Plus, Jess had lost her voice, and sounded like a 50-year-old Pittsburgher who had been chain smoking for 30 years! Cracked me up every time she said something :-)

So eventually, around 6 o'clock or something, I headed back to the Hoffman's, my regular home in Akron. Oooh, and I was so proud: I didn't even have to ask anybody how to get from the Turners to the Hoffmans! And I even took a different way than I had gone before, and knew how to do it! :-) Yay for understanding geography a bit. The Hoffmans were watching movies that day, so I heated up my Macaroni Grill leftovers, sipped some poor man's Bailey's, and endured as much "First Daughter" as I could. Finally I retreated upstairs and played guitar and talked to Mrs. Hoffman about the dance ministry and the legal ups and downs of non-profit organizations. I was feeling quite tired, and at about 9 o'clock I camped out under a blanket on the couch and watched "The Interpreter" with the guys. Contrary to my expectations, it was a pretty good movie. Then to bed like a clod, knowing the following day held the first PURE BOSS PRACTICE of the new year.

I roused myself from renewed slumber at 11:30, finally got Steve up, and Brian called and headed over. We set up for practice in the dance room, and soon enough Brian started us out on "America Blue." Ahhhh, my friend, it was good to play! So good! And when I gave four measured clicks and we crashed in with our brand new revision of "You Were Everything," we were all three amazed at how good it sounded. It sounded pro! Philip's new bass sounded sweet too, coupled with the borrowed bass amp, and Steve enjoyed playing it. I loved playing the drums, very much enjoying the improvements that have blossomed in my playing over the past month and a half. Fills are a whole new frontier now, and I worked some sweet ones in. We worked on "Hit the Wall," which is shaping up into a sweet new song. Way catchy chorus. Good job Steve-O! Good words, too, which makes a huge difference in being able to "get in to" the song in a meaningful way. Man, band practice was sweet! Brian is getting better and better at guitar, he has an amazing new Flying V with ridiculous inlay work, and he and Steve's rapid adaptability are a joy I have found nowhere else. We got through pretty much all our songs, and though we hadn't practiced in two months, they came back pretty quickly and sounded pretty good. Ooh yeah, and we took a break around 2 o'clock and hit TACO BELL. How much better can you get, man? :-)

At 5:10 we finally finished up, Mike got home, Brian headed home, and Mike, Steve and I headed out to the AMC Theater in Cuyahoga Falls to watch "Kong" with the Tumino kids, Jason, Autumn, and the Murphy Girls. There are few additions that could make significant improvement to that crowd, so it was a blast to watch the movie with 'em, and afterwards I was delightfully surprised that everyone but Autumn was able to go to Applebee's for half-price appetizers. The movie was fantastic--a genuinely thrilling and moving celebration of classic cinema. I mean, a giant gorilla defending a beautiful lady by taking on three T-rexes?? Sweeeet, dude :-) Good stuff. And Applebee's was great, too. The Killians was exquisite, and I was wonderfully surprised to find other people initiating godly conversation besides myself. People who 6 months before had had little answer to what God was doing in their life. Truly, good times. Mikey drove us home, and due to the wetness and darkness and coldness of the night and my dragging tiredness, I made the quality decision to stay the night and drive right to work in the morning. So we lazed around, I packed my stuff up, Steve and I jammed to a sweet sad haunting little ditty I came up with, and finally I hit the sack.

Ugh. The next morning. Fuzzy and early, I packed up the last of my stuff, took the time for a shower, loaded the car in the soaked morning, and set off down the lonely road to a long day of work in the chemical plant. Warm glare of headlights and street lamps on the glistening road, warmth finally blowing at my feet as the engine heated up.. settling down into the seat and driving away from the weekend. The end-of-trip sadness lingered far longer that day than normal, kind of linked to the post following this. But as always, the sadness has passed and the memories remain, strong and wonderful. Dinner with the fam, talking with Steve, traveling with the Turners, skating in the city, ringing in the new year in a warm full livingroom of Christian friends, Sunday rolling itself out, happening as the hours trolled by, quality practice with my awesome bandmates, gripping film and godly fellowship Monday night... It was a weekend of weekends in more ways than one.

A weekend of weekends in more ways than one,
Hopefully portends of more such to come.
I work now an hour and a half from my friends,
So I'm definitely planning to come back again.
The sweet sad sorrow of driving away
Is tempered by all I remember today.

O Lord, bless this city, this family of mine,
This new home You've given for pockets of time;
These friends I have been with in working and fun..
Lord take for Your purposes all that's to come.
It's so good my heart wants to cling and control,
But Your way is best, so I loosen my hold.

Bring what You will; I will love what is brought,
Sink my joy into you, let it be what cannot

Be distraught.


Here's to God and grace, bands and brothers, movies and memories, food and friends, and all that cool stuff that's in Akron :-)

--Clear Ambassador