R. Sherman's comments to my Friday Category have hit a nerve and in deciding how to comment, I realized that my thoughts and feelings were too many to contain in a single response. So here are some more detailed thoughts about Heaven...
First of all, I truly admire R. Sherman's comments and his Dad's beliefs when it comes to Heaven. They are deeply moving and profound. From what I read, the gist of his beliefs were that Heaven was the last resting place for all the souls of the dead and departed saints and that as the White Throne of God, it should be given profound honor. Not much I can argue with that. And if my category on Friday seemed to cheapen the idea of Heaven, or Heaven itself, I am truly and deeply sorry.
However, it did get me to thinking.
Almost since the concept of Heaven has been around, people have been wondering what its like. Two slices of media that I recently dined upon had wildly different views. In The Lovely Bones, the main character has been murdered and is in Heaven watching all the events unfold before her. In her description, Heaven seems to have at least two different areas - a place where you exist while you are learning to let go of the life you've left behind and a deeper, more beautiful place (presumably the Heaven that we all think about). She further declares that everyone's Heaven is slightly different and composed of the things that the soul esteemed while on Earth. The second thing I watched was Angels in America, a wonderfully moving play and one of the best literary works I have ever heard performed. Its slightly more eccentric look at Heaven was that it was a place where the Angels hung out and that it looked exactly like San Francisco after the 1906 earthquake. Bizarre. These views of Heaven couldn't be further apart.
In Albert Brooks film, Defending Your Life, departed souls arrived at Judgement City and were subject to a week long trial to determine if they were ready to move on to the next level of existence, or go back to Earth for a little more seasoning. In Heaven Can Wait, Warren Beatty's character is removed from his body before he's actually killed and is allowed to return into another body. In Ghost, a bright light signifies Heaven, and dark malevolent souls drag evil doers down below. In The Divine Comedy, Hell is described as several layers decending to the lowest level of the abyss where Satan resides, Purgatory is a giant mountain that souls must climb, and Paradiso is a vast and wonderful expanse filled with all the saints (probably the most traditional view). And in What Dreams May Come, Heaven is an embodiment of your thoughts and feelings at the time you die, or some such - the special effects were good, but the plot was kind of dry and boring.
I could go on and on.
The Bible is not much help in the "What Is It Like" department. While Jesus describes The Kingdom of Heaven, he is often using metaphorical speech to suggest what sort of souls might be found there, not the types of architecture and the food that is served. Our human minds are naturally curious and left to fill in the rest of the details on our own.
Spider Robinson wrote a story once (I can't remember the title) which suggested that when we die, our souls become part of a great collective - a single entity of thought, feeling, and emotion, a sort of virus version of God. To be honest, this vision scared the heck out of me (as it does the protagonist), mostly because I can find no fault in its logic. God is the ruler of us all. We are given free-will, but if we come to know God, we should want to be one with Him - we should want to be absorbed into Him, with no individual thought and feeling and emotion. This is the essence of Christianity, is it not? This is the ultimate goal, I believe - to be of one mind with Christ.
My own personal view of Heaven is that its something wholly unexpected. I have, on occassion, in my stories referred to Heaven. These ideas are based upon sort of wish fulfillment scenarios (as are, I think, most stories about Heaven) - like, Wouldn't it be cool if... I do not think these thoughts cheapen the experience of Heaven. I think, if anything, they enliven it because it means that people are thinking of it, are imagining it, are trying to grasp its reality. Heaven becomes a friendly place for them - the ultimate vacation destination - and that removes the fear of dying, or at least lessens it for a while. I should think that thinking on Heaven daily is probably a good reminder.
Of course, if South Park is to be believed, it doesn't matter what we think because only Mormons are going to Heaven. ;)
Monday, July 31, 2006
Friday, July 28, 2006
Thank God Its Friday Categories!
Name three ways Judgement Day might work if God was a TV Producer...
Keep the number of blasphemies down, if you will... Thanks.
Keep the number of blasphemies down, if you will... Thanks.
Behind The Screens - Chapter One
Chapter One: Judgement Day
There are moments in your life when you are riding high and you feel the world is ready to be plucked. These moments, as we all know by now, are fleeting and illusionary. The feeling of euphoria quickly dissipates and we are left with disappointment and ash.
I left the Navy about a month after the end of the first Gulf War. During the war, I had distinguished myself and made a nuisance at the same time. I had excelled at my job, but I really sucked at the Navy part of it. I looked forward to civilian life - sure of great things to come.
The sorting out period after returning to San Francisco saw me enter college, move into an apartment in San Francisco, and try to reconnect with my fiancee. Some aspects of this were succesful, others did not quite live up to the billing in my mind. After a month of living the good life, I could see the writing on the walls and the red ink quickly filling up my checkbook - it was time to find a job.
I was looking for gainful employment of the type I had enjoyed in the Navy - cutting edge, important, lives hanging in the balance on my intellect and skill. Unfortunately, those jobs don't exist in the real world. I quickly realized that anything I did was bound to be a letdown from the frenetic pace and importance of war time Intelligence.
I interviewed first with the Emporium for a security guard. It was a good way to hone my interview skills as they'd become rusty in my Navy years. I thought the interview went well, but ultimately I was glad that I wasn't selected for this job as I had no real passion for chasing down teenage thieves. Nor did I really want to spy on my co-workers.
My second interview ended with a job with an Environmental Law Firm concerned with the water quality in the Bay Area. They needed me to go door to door asking for contributions in order to help get this act enforced. After one dubious day of walking and talking in fair Ross, I quickly surmised that this job held no immediate prospects for success.
The next day, I looked through the newspaper and saw an add for an Assistant Manager at my local movie theater. This theater, we'll call it the Imperial, had been my childhood theater. When my sister had been sick with the stomach flu one summer, I had gone there every single day for two weeks to watch Star Wars. I had been going to movies there my entire life. Since my Dad had once owned a movie theater, I was familiar with the behind the scenes workings of a movie house. Assistant Manager was also more in keeping with the kind of job I had been doing in the Navy. I threw on my best suit and headed down to apply.
Terminator 2: Judgement Day had opened the week before. There were long lines around the block. I moved past the large crowd and asked for an application, then walked into the lobby to fill out the form. As I sat in the lobby of this theater, dressed resplendently in a three piece suit, I attracted some attention. Another man in a suit walked up to me just as I was finishing the application and asked me whether I was applying for the Assistant Manager's job. I nodded and when he told me he was the manager, I handed him the application.
"Do you have time for an interview?"
"Yes, of course."
He took me into the cramped office and interviewed me and then hired me on the spot. As far as I know, I was the only person ever interviewed for the position. He explained rather quickly that he was short one manager and that with Terminator 2, he was short handed. Point blank he told me that I probably would only last the summer and that when the fall came, I would lose the job. Secretly, I wasn't worried. He told me to come back on Friday for my first day of work.
On my way out the door, I bought a ticket to T2 and then headed home to change. When I got to the apartment, my roommates best friend from home was waiting for me. He'd dropped in to town to see my roommate. I told him that I had just got a job and that I was going back to see the movie and he asked me if he could tag along. We went back to the theater and bought another ticket, then went to get lunch at Round Table pizza and ordered a pitcher of beer. By the time the beer and pizza arrived, we only had ten minutes until the film started. We wolfed down the pizza and guzzled the beer, and then, drunkenly ran up the street to the theater. And so, on the day I got hired, I saw my first film at the Imperial while being very tipsy.
On Friday, I walked into the theater, resplendent once again, ready to begin my job as an Assistant Manager. My Manager, who I'll call Bert, looked harried. He handed me the keys to the building and then said, "Look, my boss, Dominick, is coming to the theater in about ten minutes. He's going to want to meet you and ask you a million questions about the job. You just started, but he won't let that be an excuse. If he thinks you don't know anything and he doesn't like you, I'll be forced to fire you. So, instead, why don't you go into one of the theaters and wait until he's gone, and then I'll come find you and put you to work." I shrugged my shoulders and went to watch Point Break which had just opened that day. Ten minutes before the film ended, Bert came and got me.
That was my first exposure to the man known as Dominick and little did I know, it was going to be a sign of things to come.
Next Time:
Chapter Two - How Things Actually Work
There are moments in your life when you are riding high and you feel the world is ready to be plucked. These moments, as we all know by now, are fleeting and illusionary. The feeling of euphoria quickly dissipates and we are left with disappointment and ash.
I left the Navy about a month after the end of the first Gulf War. During the war, I had distinguished myself and made a nuisance at the same time. I had excelled at my job, but I really sucked at the Navy part of it. I looked forward to civilian life - sure of great things to come.
The sorting out period after returning to San Francisco saw me enter college, move into an apartment in San Francisco, and try to reconnect with my fiancee. Some aspects of this were succesful, others did not quite live up to the billing in my mind. After a month of living the good life, I could see the writing on the walls and the red ink quickly filling up my checkbook - it was time to find a job.
I was looking for gainful employment of the type I had enjoyed in the Navy - cutting edge, important, lives hanging in the balance on my intellect and skill. Unfortunately, those jobs don't exist in the real world. I quickly realized that anything I did was bound to be a letdown from the frenetic pace and importance of war time Intelligence.
I interviewed first with the Emporium for a security guard. It was a good way to hone my interview skills as they'd become rusty in my Navy years. I thought the interview went well, but ultimately I was glad that I wasn't selected for this job as I had no real passion for chasing down teenage thieves. Nor did I really want to spy on my co-workers.
My second interview ended with a job with an Environmental Law Firm concerned with the water quality in the Bay Area. They needed me to go door to door asking for contributions in order to help get this act enforced. After one dubious day of walking and talking in fair Ross, I quickly surmised that this job held no immediate prospects for success.
The next day, I looked through the newspaper and saw an add for an Assistant Manager at my local movie theater. This theater, we'll call it the Imperial, had been my childhood theater. When my sister had been sick with the stomach flu one summer, I had gone there every single day for two weeks to watch Star Wars. I had been going to movies there my entire life. Since my Dad had once owned a movie theater, I was familiar with the behind the scenes workings of a movie house. Assistant Manager was also more in keeping with the kind of job I had been doing in the Navy. I threw on my best suit and headed down to apply.
Terminator 2: Judgement Day had opened the week before. There were long lines around the block. I moved past the large crowd and asked for an application, then walked into the lobby to fill out the form. As I sat in the lobby of this theater, dressed resplendently in a three piece suit, I attracted some attention. Another man in a suit walked up to me just as I was finishing the application and asked me whether I was applying for the Assistant Manager's job. I nodded and when he told me he was the manager, I handed him the application.
"Do you have time for an interview?"
"Yes, of course."
He took me into the cramped office and interviewed me and then hired me on the spot. As far as I know, I was the only person ever interviewed for the position. He explained rather quickly that he was short one manager and that with Terminator 2, he was short handed. Point blank he told me that I probably would only last the summer and that when the fall came, I would lose the job. Secretly, I wasn't worried. He told me to come back on Friday for my first day of work.
On my way out the door, I bought a ticket to T2 and then headed home to change. When I got to the apartment, my roommates best friend from home was waiting for me. He'd dropped in to town to see my roommate. I told him that I had just got a job and that I was going back to see the movie and he asked me if he could tag along. We went back to the theater and bought another ticket, then went to get lunch at Round Table pizza and ordered a pitcher of beer. By the time the beer and pizza arrived, we only had ten minutes until the film started. We wolfed down the pizza and guzzled the beer, and then, drunkenly ran up the street to the theater. And so, on the day I got hired, I saw my first film at the Imperial while being very tipsy.
On Friday, I walked into the theater, resplendent once again, ready to begin my job as an Assistant Manager. My Manager, who I'll call Bert, looked harried. He handed me the keys to the building and then said, "Look, my boss, Dominick, is coming to the theater in about ten minutes. He's going to want to meet you and ask you a million questions about the job. You just started, but he won't let that be an excuse. If he thinks you don't know anything and he doesn't like you, I'll be forced to fire you. So, instead, why don't you go into one of the theaters and wait until he's gone, and then I'll come find you and put you to work." I shrugged my shoulders and went to watch Point Break which had just opened that day. Ten minutes before the film ended, Bert came and got me.
That was my first exposure to the man known as Dominick and little did I know, it was going to be a sign of things to come.
Next Time:
Chapter Two - How Things Actually Work
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Behind The Screens - Prologue
This is the first part of a many part saga that will tell the infamous and notorious tale of my nine years of incarceration with Century Theatres. I'll try to keep to the lowlights of this journey. For purposes of avoiding defamation, I will change the names of the principles involved - though I'm sure those of you who've known me long enough already know the names. As a side note, and to be fair, I was a bit of an idealistic youth during this time period. Getting away from the corporate world and being able to look at the big picture, I began to understand a little more why things were done a certain way. However, that being said, the company never showed a willingness to change their practices and were the sole beneficiaries of everything gained by certain cost cutting measures. Idealistic or no, I am much happier where I am now.
PROLOGUE
It was the fall of 1997 and not a few weeks earlier I had stood on the deck of a Princess Cruises liner heading to Alaska. Now, the wind and the rain was pelting my face. The view was wonderful. To the east, was the San Francisco Bay spreading away from me quietly, as if buttoned up against the storm that was to come. To the north, I could see the planes from San Francisco International Airport taxiing into position for take-off. To the west, freeway and the rolling mountains that separated me from the coast, storm clouds crossing their peaks. To the south, the dark confines of Coyote Point with the endless line of fuel-short airplanes gliding into position for a landing. I could have almost enjoyed it.
Below me, all hell was breaking loose in the Hyatt Cinema. Understaffed and undertrained, my crew rushed about their duties as best they could trying to get through the rush of Saturday night. It was all they could do to stay afloat. The assistant managers, who had a combined one year of experience between the five of them, struggled to maintain order while keeping the films running.
I stood on the roof, getting wet, quietly angry and getting more angry and frustrated by the moment. I had been manager for a mere 72 hours. My training had lasted about half of Saturday morning. During that training, I had been shown the building, I had reviewed the staff information, and had all the banking information switched over to my name. And then I had been shown the roof - through the Round Table Pizza place next door, up the back ladder, through the abandoned bath house, up another ladder to the roof and across a series of precarious structurally flawed sections to the heating/air conditioning unit. I was shown the unit, told how it supplied heat to the main auditorium, and given the phone number to call if it ever broke.
It conked out that first night I was manager. I called for repairs. Nobody came. I called all day Saturday and actually talked to a live person who was very annoyed at being tricked into answering the phone. Vague promises turned to nothing. I called my boss. I called my old boss. I called anyone I could think of. By Sunday evening, as I stood in the rain ready to take a mallet to the clunky piece of machinery, and angry enough to turn green and smash a few Army tanks, I suddenly realized that even if I didn't know what I wanted to do or be in life, I knew that I didn't want to be a Movie Theater Manager.
It had only taken me six years to reach this point. It would only take me another three years to finally get away from Century Theatres.
This is my tale of woe.
PROLOGUE
It was the fall of 1997 and not a few weeks earlier I had stood on the deck of a Princess Cruises liner heading to Alaska. Now, the wind and the rain was pelting my face. The view was wonderful. To the east, was the San Francisco Bay spreading away from me quietly, as if buttoned up against the storm that was to come. To the north, I could see the planes from San Francisco International Airport taxiing into position for take-off. To the west, freeway and the rolling mountains that separated me from the coast, storm clouds crossing their peaks. To the south, the dark confines of Coyote Point with the endless line of fuel-short airplanes gliding into position for a landing. I could have almost enjoyed it.
Below me, all hell was breaking loose in the Hyatt Cinema. Understaffed and undertrained, my crew rushed about their duties as best they could trying to get through the rush of Saturday night. It was all they could do to stay afloat. The assistant managers, who had a combined one year of experience between the five of them, struggled to maintain order while keeping the films running.
I stood on the roof, getting wet, quietly angry and getting more angry and frustrated by the moment. I had been manager for a mere 72 hours. My training had lasted about half of Saturday morning. During that training, I had been shown the building, I had reviewed the staff information, and had all the banking information switched over to my name. And then I had been shown the roof - through the Round Table Pizza place next door, up the back ladder, through the abandoned bath house, up another ladder to the roof and across a series of precarious structurally flawed sections to the heating/air conditioning unit. I was shown the unit, told how it supplied heat to the main auditorium, and given the phone number to call if it ever broke.
It conked out that first night I was manager. I called for repairs. Nobody came. I called all day Saturday and actually talked to a live person who was very annoyed at being tricked into answering the phone. Vague promises turned to nothing. I called my boss. I called my old boss. I called anyone I could think of. By Sunday evening, as I stood in the rain ready to take a mallet to the clunky piece of machinery, and angry enough to turn green and smash a few Army tanks, I suddenly realized that even if I didn't know what I wanted to do or be in life, I knew that I didn't want to be a Movie Theater Manager.
It had only taken me six years to reach this point. It would only take me another three years to finally get away from Century Theatres.
This is my tale of woe.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Lost In Thought...
My mind has been contemplating deep things today - none of which form any practical problem that might be solved.
I am annoyed that the producers of Lost are going to reveal the Secret of the Numbers online. I feel like a second class citizen viewer because I don't have time to totally geek out at their online Lost Experience. Perhaps they feel I'm just not loyal enough for them.
I am entirely ambivalent about Lance Bass being gay. Not that there's anything wrong with being ambivalent. I'm just annoyed that he's in a relationship with Riechen of Chip N Riechen fame from Season 4 of The Amazing Race. I never liked those guys and I'm sure that my guys lost.
I can't get an idea in my head of what a web site would look like if it didn't look like any other website, and yet still functioned like one. After I've wrapped my head around that one for a while, I'll let you know how big a headache I have.
I feel cheated that there hasn't been any good baseball trades so far this year. Good or bad, I want to see an A-Rod for Nomar Garciapara trade. Just something to sink my teeth into. I feel like I've been waiting for steak while being offered nothing but strained carrots.
I've been on the blogosphere all week reading other people's blogs. Everyone is on such a creative high right now. I think my sister at SuperstarInTraining has written more posts this week than she has all year. And they've all been good. Andy at Milefromthebeach has had an excellent run of doctrinal and deep belief based blogs over at his blog. R. Sherman has been snorkeling in the CNN waters lately for the source of his material (it must be the stress of work - which perhaps explains why I go off the deep end on Bush all the time). Ariel is blogged under by his class right now. Marcel wrote an incredibly true story over at Carioca. 7th Inning Stretch has been anemic by comparison, but well, it don't bring home the bling.
Jerry Porter (Raiders) should be traded to the Cowboys. In fact, there should be an NFL wide conspiracy that anytime someone demands a trade, they ought to be sent to the Cowboys. I just want to see how a team with 40 something guys does when everyone of them wants the ball on every single play.
Sunday was the day of Heart in sports - Tiger winning the B.O., the American kid winning the Tour, and Armando Benitez ripping the heart out of the Giants by handing a victory to the Padres. Which one of these is not like the other?
Ah me, oh my, where it will gooooooooo?
I'm much too complacent today to pick a fight. After spending an entire day with a headache yesterday, staring at a computer screen when I could keep my eyes open at all, today I sat down at my desk with energy and determination. I grabbed up my paperwork and wrote, and typed, and filed and copied, and did two or three hours of work and then I looked at my watch and realized that 15 minutes had passed. I just started to laugh. God uses time as a punishment sometimes.
That's it. No more meandering. Thank you all for dropping by. Now you may continue with your lives. Please watch your step as you exit. Keep your hands and arms in the train at all times. No smoking please and No flash photography. Goodbye.
I am annoyed that the producers of Lost are going to reveal the Secret of the Numbers online. I feel like a second class citizen viewer because I don't have time to totally geek out at their online Lost Experience. Perhaps they feel I'm just not loyal enough for them.
I am entirely ambivalent about Lance Bass being gay. Not that there's anything wrong with being ambivalent. I'm just annoyed that he's in a relationship with Riechen of Chip N Riechen fame from Season 4 of The Amazing Race. I never liked those guys and I'm sure that my guys lost.
I can't get an idea in my head of what a web site would look like if it didn't look like any other website, and yet still functioned like one. After I've wrapped my head around that one for a while, I'll let you know how big a headache I have.
I feel cheated that there hasn't been any good baseball trades so far this year. Good or bad, I want to see an A-Rod for Nomar Garciapara trade. Just something to sink my teeth into. I feel like I've been waiting for steak while being offered nothing but strained carrots.
I've been on the blogosphere all week reading other people's blogs. Everyone is on such a creative high right now. I think my sister at SuperstarInTraining has written more posts this week than she has all year. And they've all been good. Andy at Milefromthebeach has had an excellent run of doctrinal and deep belief based blogs over at his blog. R. Sherman has been snorkeling in the CNN waters lately for the source of his material (it must be the stress of work - which perhaps explains why I go off the deep end on Bush all the time). Ariel is blogged under by his class right now. Marcel wrote an incredibly true story over at Carioca. 7th Inning Stretch has been anemic by comparison, but well, it don't bring home the bling.
Jerry Porter (Raiders) should be traded to the Cowboys. In fact, there should be an NFL wide conspiracy that anytime someone demands a trade, they ought to be sent to the Cowboys. I just want to see how a team with 40 something guys does when everyone of them wants the ball on every single play.
Sunday was the day of Heart in sports - Tiger winning the B.O., the American kid winning the Tour, and Armando Benitez ripping the heart out of the Giants by handing a victory to the Padres. Which one of these is not like the other?
Ah me, oh my, where it will gooooooooo?
I'm much too complacent today to pick a fight. After spending an entire day with a headache yesterday, staring at a computer screen when I could keep my eyes open at all, today I sat down at my desk with energy and determination. I grabbed up my paperwork and wrote, and typed, and filed and copied, and did two or three hours of work and then I looked at my watch and realized that 15 minutes had passed. I just started to laugh. God uses time as a punishment sometimes.
That's it. No more meandering. Thank you all for dropping by. Now you may continue with your lives. Please watch your step as you exit. Keep your hands and arms in the train at all times. No smoking please and No flash photography. Goodbye.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Thanks for the memories...
Bill Bullick was a great guy. He was a singer in the church choir. He was a bass with a deep voice. He loved to joke around, but his heart was bigger than his booming voice. Nobody who knew Bill Bullick ever had a hard word to say about him. He was the kind of guy we all want to be - friendly, warm, caring, dedicated, smart, strong, loving. He welcomed me to the choir even though I was just in high school at the time and he became my friend really fast.
When he passed away in the late 90's, I took his loss pretty hard. I had taken his life, his existence, for granted. I had not been back to Lakeside in a while at that point. I sat in the church for his funeral service and I looked around at his family and friends and heard the wonderful stories about him. I sang in the choir that day for the first time in years. It was a strong, and painful, reminder of all the wonderful things that Lakeside had meant to me.
Bob Lehman was a quiet guy. He was Janet Lehman's husband and Susan Lehman's father. He played handbells and liked baseball and helped out whenever he was asked. He was that guy that you see at the church all the time and never question the fact that they are always there. He and his wife took over from Lila when she retired as camp cooks on the various work camps for the church. He never raised his voice. He never complained. He loved to help - loved it!
Not long after Bill Bullick's passing, I was back at Lakeside for the funeral of Bob Lehman. As I sat in the pews listening to the various speakers, I realized something wonderful - Bob Lehman had lived a complete life. He'd married his wife and had his child. He'd supported them by working hard all his life and providing them with a home. And then, when he'd retired, he'd gone to work full time for God - spending hours every day at the church helping out, because he loved it!
At the time, I was working for a large corporation that didn't care about me one bit. To them, I was just a cog in the giant wheel of their operation - easily replaced. I needed the money, of course, and so I took this lack of relationship with a mercenary attitude - they didn't care about me, and I really didn't care about them. I got paid. I did my job. End of conversation. It was no way to live. It was not even close to a complete life.
Two funerals in what seemed like days brought me back into a church and a life I had known. As people welcomed me back, it felt as if I'd never left. The faces were different. The styles of music and worship were different. The pastors were different. But the life was the same. The Leader was the same. I left the second funeral knowing what I had been missing, knowing what I wanted to become.
Eventually I left the corporation I had been working for and found a nice small company where everyone knew everyone else - and everyone mattered. The change in work schedule allowed me to return to church for the first time in years. In 2000, I went back and joined the choir. I lasted about fifteen minutes (literally!) before I had also joined the handbell choir. By the fall of that year, I became a youth advisor to the associate pastor. And by the end of that first year back, I was approached to become an Elder and join the governing body of the church. The journey back had many bumpy roads, but it was a path I never once doubted taking.
I will continue to do the Lord's work, wherever that takes me, not because I am some sort of super Christian, or because I am trying to work my way into Heaven, but because it is who I want to be. It is the life I want to live. And, ultimately, when I pass away, I hope there will be people who are inspired in the way that I was inspired by dedicated people, who will take up the cross and continue the work of God.
When he passed away in the late 90's, I took his loss pretty hard. I had taken his life, his existence, for granted. I had not been back to Lakeside in a while at that point. I sat in the church for his funeral service and I looked around at his family and friends and heard the wonderful stories about him. I sang in the choir that day for the first time in years. It was a strong, and painful, reminder of all the wonderful things that Lakeside had meant to me.
Bob Lehman was a quiet guy. He was Janet Lehman's husband and Susan Lehman's father. He played handbells and liked baseball and helped out whenever he was asked. He was that guy that you see at the church all the time and never question the fact that they are always there. He and his wife took over from Lila when she retired as camp cooks on the various work camps for the church. He never raised his voice. He never complained. He loved to help - loved it!
Not long after Bill Bullick's passing, I was back at Lakeside for the funeral of Bob Lehman. As I sat in the pews listening to the various speakers, I realized something wonderful - Bob Lehman had lived a complete life. He'd married his wife and had his child. He'd supported them by working hard all his life and providing them with a home. And then, when he'd retired, he'd gone to work full time for God - spending hours every day at the church helping out, because he loved it!
At the time, I was working for a large corporation that didn't care about me one bit. To them, I was just a cog in the giant wheel of their operation - easily replaced. I needed the money, of course, and so I took this lack of relationship with a mercenary attitude - they didn't care about me, and I really didn't care about them. I got paid. I did my job. End of conversation. It was no way to live. It was not even close to a complete life.
Two funerals in what seemed like days brought me back into a church and a life I had known. As people welcomed me back, it felt as if I'd never left. The faces were different. The styles of music and worship were different. The pastors were different. But the life was the same. The Leader was the same. I left the second funeral knowing what I had been missing, knowing what I wanted to become.
Eventually I left the corporation I had been working for and found a nice small company where everyone knew everyone else - and everyone mattered. The change in work schedule allowed me to return to church for the first time in years. In 2000, I went back and joined the choir. I lasted about fifteen minutes (literally!) before I had also joined the handbell choir. By the fall of that year, I became a youth advisor to the associate pastor. And by the end of that first year back, I was approached to become an Elder and join the governing body of the church. The journey back had many bumpy roads, but it was a path I never once doubted taking.
I will continue to do the Lord's work, wherever that takes me, not because I am some sort of super Christian, or because I am trying to work my way into Heaven, but because it is who I want to be. It is the life I want to live. And, ultimately, when I pass away, I hope there will be people who are inspired in the way that I was inspired by dedicated people, who will take up the cross and continue the work of God.
Monday, July 24, 2006
Let's Not Tell The Brain!
I can only get so far in my faith and I am frustrated by it. Time and time again, I want to believe - truly believe like no doubt, mind is convinced, can see it clearly as if it happened yestereday, can feel the heat of Jerusalem, and smell the sweat of the centurions as they raise Christ's cross. But I can't. My brain always gets in the way.
I'll be reading along in scripture and I'll see something that says, Jerusalem was destroyed in 584BC and I'll think to myself, "How do they know it happened like it says in the Bible? Where are the other sources? Do they agree about the specifics or disagree? And how come there hasn't been an addition to the Bible in almost 2000 years? Where's God? Or did He get out of the publishing business?" Talk about some serious issues. Its like I'm using my faith as a dam to hold back a flood of questions for which I know there are not any answers. I know its creepy, Thomas, but I want to put my finger in His side too.
Languages evolve. We like to think of them as static. We like to embrace them as unchanging, but we can see the changes in our lifetime. We know words that are no longer used. We know that certain words have changed meanings or spellings or flaunted a direct disregard for grammar. But go out another 100 years and you'll discover that language has changed even more. 200 years and its even greater. 400 years and you've got Shakespeare. Etc... Languages borrow words and are influenced by outside events like mass migrations or forced isolations or slavery. Unexpected things that happen can create new words - and words are what we use for a shared understanding, so that if I say 911, you know what I mean without my having to describe it. So meanings change as well, and understandings. We see the world differently now than we did even ten years ago.
Religions evolve too. Even in Christianity, we know that there is no church today that is the same as the ones that existed right after Christ died. It would be impossible to create such a church. We have documented evidence of religions that have been modified by outside events - so called Cargo Cult religions. These religions were vastly influenced by an unexpected and otherworldly event. In the original case, an aboriginal tribe on a Polynesian Island was stunned one day when a cargo containing ship docked in their harbor and began setting up an advanced scouting base for watching the Japanese. The natives had never seen such technology and the Americans existence there was unexplained by their religion, so they modified it to include worship of the Cargo People. But if a religion like this can evolve, how can we not say that other religions weren't influenced by outside events?
We might say that we can trace pretty much all development of Christianity back, but not the original tenets of faith. Judaism goes back thousands of years. And that whole parting the Red Sea? Talk about miracles that are impossible to even imagine - no matter what you do, it will always look like a movie special effect.
So, here are these thousand doubts and questions floating in my head arguing with me every time I profess a belief in Christ. ("Sure you believe, buddy... but you still can't explain to me how the trinity works!") I can't get rid of them. I find it increasingly hard to ignore them. And I know in my heart that I'm never going to be sitting in church and hear a sermon entitled, "How Moses Parted The Red Sea, by the Scientific Journal." They can't even agree how the pyramids were built.
So I'm left with a choice. Do I decide to believe or do I think the whole thing is nutty and ignore it?
We may have to come up with a new definition of belief. Is there a way to believe and not believe 100%? Is that the essence of faith? Believing even when you don't believe? Following thoughts and feelings in your heart that you can't explain, crying over words to a song you've sung 100 times, feeling comforted by prayer - even though you can't make out how Daniel survived in the lion's den?
I believe! But I don't believe! Let's not tell the brain!
I'll be reading along in scripture and I'll see something that says, Jerusalem was destroyed in 584BC and I'll think to myself, "How do they know it happened like it says in the Bible? Where are the other sources? Do they agree about the specifics or disagree? And how come there hasn't been an addition to the Bible in almost 2000 years? Where's God? Or did He get out of the publishing business?" Talk about some serious issues. Its like I'm using my faith as a dam to hold back a flood of questions for which I know there are not any answers. I know its creepy, Thomas, but I want to put my finger in His side too.
Languages evolve. We like to think of them as static. We like to embrace them as unchanging, but we can see the changes in our lifetime. We know words that are no longer used. We know that certain words have changed meanings or spellings or flaunted a direct disregard for grammar. But go out another 100 years and you'll discover that language has changed even more. 200 years and its even greater. 400 years and you've got Shakespeare. Etc... Languages borrow words and are influenced by outside events like mass migrations or forced isolations or slavery. Unexpected things that happen can create new words - and words are what we use for a shared understanding, so that if I say 911, you know what I mean without my having to describe it. So meanings change as well, and understandings. We see the world differently now than we did even ten years ago.
Religions evolve too. Even in Christianity, we know that there is no church today that is the same as the ones that existed right after Christ died. It would be impossible to create such a church. We have documented evidence of religions that have been modified by outside events - so called Cargo Cult religions. These religions were vastly influenced by an unexpected and otherworldly event. In the original case, an aboriginal tribe on a Polynesian Island was stunned one day when a cargo containing ship docked in their harbor and began setting up an advanced scouting base for watching the Japanese. The natives had never seen such technology and the Americans existence there was unexplained by their religion, so they modified it to include worship of the Cargo People. But if a religion like this can evolve, how can we not say that other religions weren't influenced by outside events?
We might say that we can trace pretty much all development of Christianity back, but not the original tenets of faith. Judaism goes back thousands of years. And that whole parting the Red Sea? Talk about miracles that are impossible to even imagine - no matter what you do, it will always look like a movie special effect.
So, here are these thousand doubts and questions floating in my head arguing with me every time I profess a belief in Christ. ("Sure you believe, buddy... but you still can't explain to me how the trinity works!") I can't get rid of them. I find it increasingly hard to ignore them. And I know in my heart that I'm never going to be sitting in church and hear a sermon entitled, "How Moses Parted The Red Sea, by the Scientific Journal." They can't even agree how the pyramids were built.
So I'm left with a choice. Do I decide to believe or do I think the whole thing is nutty and ignore it?
We may have to come up with a new definition of belief. Is there a way to believe and not believe 100%? Is that the essence of faith? Believing even when you don't believe? Following thoughts and feelings in your heart that you can't explain, crying over words to a song you've sung 100 times, feeling comforted by prayer - even though you can't make out how Daniel survived in the lion's den?
I believe! But I don't believe! Let's not tell the brain!
Friday, July 21, 2006
The Amazing Mole
Four years ago, as my family visited WDW, I drafted them to play a little game for my website called The Amazing Mole. It was a cross between The Amazing Race and the short lived game, The Mole. The idea was that teams of two would run around Disney World trying to complete challenges before the other teams. But, there was a catch, in that someone was a mole - trying to prevent the teams from completing the task. This was actually just a dramatic device, because in secret I'd asked everyone to be the mole. They were all trying to sabotage each other - which was fun to watch.
This is actually a Friday category question, but you needed that little bit of background to answer the question below:
If I were to do a second Amazing Mole type contest at Disney World this year, what three challenges would you recommend for the teams to accomplish?
Have at it... and be as evil as you want!
This is actually a Friday category question, but you needed that little bit of background to answer the question below:
If I were to do a second Amazing Mole type contest at Disney World this year, what three challenges would you recommend for the teams to accomplish?
Have at it... and be as evil as you want!
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Emptiness
Life can be draining. We fill up on sleep and excercise and then spend that energy on mundane tasks like earning a paycheck and cleaning house. It can seem at times that we are just existing - working to live, living to work.
But for the longest time I've known that I have another reservoir inside me - a creative reservoir. I fill it up with fiction - television, books, movies, stories, plays, musicals, whatever I can devour. And then I empty it out again in the form of stories, websites, movies, and other creative endeavors.
For the most part, the two areas did not intersect. I could feel great and be completely brain dead. Or I could feel creatively alive and physically beat. My mom likes to tell a story about me lying on my death bed (flu or some such) and calling to her, telling her to bring a pen so that she could write down the story in my head. That's how I am sometimes.
I think, as well, that we all have a spiritual reservoir. But this one is filled up by both us and God. Its like a savings account where you make deposits and God makes deposits. Sin depletes this account. Withdrawls are made all of the time, but deposits only occasionally, as we feel like it.
I never knew what it took to write a novel until I finished it. The first reservoir to go was the physical. It became a bear to get up every morning and go to work after having beat my head against the wall the night before trying to write. But I'd been there before in college working on papers until all hours of the night. Physical fatigue was something I had tackled before.
The second to go was the creative. At many points during the writing, I needed to refill my creative reservoir before I could go on writing. I saw a lot of movies, discovered Netflix, watched a lot of TV, read a little, went to plays and musicals... whatever it took. And then, I'd go right back at it and drain myself again. Again, and again, and again... empty.
The last to go was the spiritual. We are in communion with God in so many ways that we don't even consider. But when we lock ourselves up in our rooms with nothing but a crazy outline and a computer and we throw words onto paper for hours at a time, its easy to discover all the ways that you are not being spiritual. Though I read the Bible every night, and blogged, my spirits remained low.
When I was done, I was left with such a feeling of profound emptiness - like I'd squeezed myself dry of every last ounce of energy in my body. To say I was weary of the Novel would be an understatement - I was weary of everything.
I took back the spiritual first - communing with friends and family like I hadn't done in months or years. Slowly, I could feel my heart get restarted and my "debt" repaid to the point that my deposits were finally starting to outpace my withdrawls. From there, I turned again to the creative. I've spent the last five weeks completely devouring any bit of fiction I could get my hands on. At one point I was watching at least one new movie a night, reading two different books, and listening to a third book on tape. I have felt my creative juices flowing again - granted, its still just a tiny flow. Physically, I finally have started to come back to myself. That is something that will take the most time. I have a hike planned for next Saturday and I hope to build from there.
When you feel empty, you just feel lost - like you don't know where you are and you don't have anything to contribute. Its easy to go from there to rock bottom. Ultimately, what's most important is how you fill yourself up. We can use things like drugs or sex or other worldly things to make us feel better, but they don't keep up happy for long. Its far better to start with the things that made you happy in the first place - conversations, friendships, relationships, and communion with God. With that as your base, you'll be happy to discover just how quickly recovery is possible and how fast you'll be overflowing.
And now... on to Book #2. What can I say? I'm a glutton for punishment!
But for the longest time I've known that I have another reservoir inside me - a creative reservoir. I fill it up with fiction - television, books, movies, stories, plays, musicals, whatever I can devour. And then I empty it out again in the form of stories, websites, movies, and other creative endeavors.
For the most part, the two areas did not intersect. I could feel great and be completely brain dead. Or I could feel creatively alive and physically beat. My mom likes to tell a story about me lying on my death bed (flu or some such) and calling to her, telling her to bring a pen so that she could write down the story in my head. That's how I am sometimes.
I think, as well, that we all have a spiritual reservoir. But this one is filled up by both us and God. Its like a savings account where you make deposits and God makes deposits. Sin depletes this account. Withdrawls are made all of the time, but deposits only occasionally, as we feel like it.
I never knew what it took to write a novel until I finished it. The first reservoir to go was the physical. It became a bear to get up every morning and go to work after having beat my head against the wall the night before trying to write. But I'd been there before in college working on papers until all hours of the night. Physical fatigue was something I had tackled before.
The second to go was the creative. At many points during the writing, I needed to refill my creative reservoir before I could go on writing. I saw a lot of movies, discovered Netflix, watched a lot of TV, read a little, went to plays and musicals... whatever it took. And then, I'd go right back at it and drain myself again. Again, and again, and again... empty.
The last to go was the spiritual. We are in communion with God in so many ways that we don't even consider. But when we lock ourselves up in our rooms with nothing but a crazy outline and a computer and we throw words onto paper for hours at a time, its easy to discover all the ways that you are not being spiritual. Though I read the Bible every night, and blogged, my spirits remained low.
When I was done, I was left with such a feeling of profound emptiness - like I'd squeezed myself dry of every last ounce of energy in my body. To say I was weary of the Novel would be an understatement - I was weary of everything.
I took back the spiritual first - communing with friends and family like I hadn't done in months or years. Slowly, I could feel my heart get restarted and my "debt" repaid to the point that my deposits were finally starting to outpace my withdrawls. From there, I turned again to the creative. I've spent the last five weeks completely devouring any bit of fiction I could get my hands on. At one point I was watching at least one new movie a night, reading two different books, and listening to a third book on tape. I have felt my creative juices flowing again - granted, its still just a tiny flow. Physically, I finally have started to come back to myself. That is something that will take the most time. I have a hike planned for next Saturday and I hope to build from there.
When you feel empty, you just feel lost - like you don't know where you are and you don't have anything to contribute. Its easy to go from there to rock bottom. Ultimately, what's most important is how you fill yourself up. We can use things like drugs or sex or other worldly things to make us feel better, but they don't keep up happy for long. Its far better to start with the things that made you happy in the first place - conversations, friendships, relationships, and communion with God. With that as your base, you'll be happy to discover just how quickly recovery is possible and how fast you'll be overflowing.
And now... on to Book #2. What can I say? I'm a glutton for punishment!
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Value - Part Two
After reading that article (see Value - Part One) I was, at once, angry and then sad. I knew that this subject had been rolling around in my head and in my heart for a long time and this article just seemed to be a sharp pain in the side, a prompting to say what I have to say. I think the actions of the owner of this company to be completely reprehensible, but I realize that he's only doing what he feels is right. It is not the actions themselves that upset me so much as the system that makes these actions not only legal, but good business. It is to the system that I wish to address my thoughts.
R.Sherman in his excellent blog on the Fourth of July wrote about the great American experiment and how wonderful its all become. My comments, at the time, were cryptic - something to the effect of, I'm not going to argue against this on the Fourth of July. The offending phrase in his blog and this article should be clearly seen as at war with each other.
He wrote, "That's because, until those thoughts were formed and used to found a new country, the only other organizing principle for government was that, where the many served the interest of the few. The peasant existed not for his own pleasure or happiness, but to provide for the pleasure and happiness of the king. He had value, but only so long as he could grow crops or swing a sword. The king wielded power and governed to ensure that the peasant would continue to do those things for his sovereign, like it or not."
How far have we actually come in this great and free United States? Without naming off the numerous abuses, I need only remind you of the article above, the questions of universal health care, the destruction of a free and public education, the outsourcing of our jobs, and the straight forward fact that the rich get richer, and the poor continue to get poorer. New system, same outcome. The peasants still exist for the pleasure of the king, still only have value so long as they can produce a commodity or defend one, still does things to make the sovereign richer, even as it makes him poorer.
To state it succinctly, the central problem of our world and of all our systems, is the value we place on human lives. It has always been this way since the beginning. Adam and Eve, in the garden, did not value themselves enough - they wanted more! They had everything... but they still wanted what God had! Cain killed Abel because he had God's favor. The brothers sold Joseph into slavery because he had his father's favor. David was king and had God's love and respect, but he still wanted Bathsheba. I could go on.
You'd think, with thousands of years of human thought, we'd have progressed beyond this point. In this great nation of ours you can still have Enron. You can still see companies that make a profit downsize its workforce because it didn't make enough profit. You can see that 18 year employees aren't worth as much as a discount in health care costs. When it comes to human thought, nobody is as valuable to us as ourselves.
Do you value other's opinions? Do you value their struggles? Do you value their emotions? Do you value their lives? Do you? I know I don't. I want to, but when push comes to shove, its my values that matter the most. My opinion that mattters. My struggle that is heroic. My emotions that need to be addressed. My life that is important.
Jesus's words fought against this very thing. Blessed are the meek, blessed are the peacemakers, the last shall be first, etc... We are all in a position to decide where Jesus would be on what side of the argument - but consider this, Jesus thought everyone valuable enough to die for them; young and old, rich and pour, Americans and Asians, Jews and Muslims, Republicans and Democrats, Liberals and Conservatives, good and evil. They were all valuable to Him.
Know this, in God's eyes, you are the most valuable person on Earth... and so is everyone else. Its time we really start valuing others, the way we value ourselves.
R.Sherman in his excellent blog on the Fourth of July wrote about the great American experiment and how wonderful its all become. My comments, at the time, were cryptic - something to the effect of, I'm not going to argue against this on the Fourth of July. The offending phrase in his blog and this article should be clearly seen as at war with each other.
He wrote, "That's because, until those thoughts were formed and used to found a new country, the only other organizing principle for government was that, where the many served the interest of the few. The peasant existed not for his own pleasure or happiness, but to provide for the pleasure and happiness of the king. He had value, but only so long as he could grow crops or swing a sword. The king wielded power and governed to ensure that the peasant would continue to do those things for his sovereign, like it or not."
How far have we actually come in this great and free United States? Without naming off the numerous abuses, I need only remind you of the article above, the questions of universal health care, the destruction of a free and public education, the outsourcing of our jobs, and the straight forward fact that the rich get richer, and the poor continue to get poorer. New system, same outcome. The peasants still exist for the pleasure of the king, still only have value so long as they can produce a commodity or defend one, still does things to make the sovereign richer, even as it makes him poorer.
To state it succinctly, the central problem of our world and of all our systems, is the value we place on human lives. It has always been this way since the beginning. Adam and Eve, in the garden, did not value themselves enough - they wanted more! They had everything... but they still wanted what God had! Cain killed Abel because he had God's favor. The brothers sold Joseph into slavery because he had his father's favor. David was king and had God's love and respect, but he still wanted Bathsheba. I could go on.
You'd think, with thousands of years of human thought, we'd have progressed beyond this point. In this great nation of ours you can still have Enron. You can still see companies that make a profit downsize its workforce because it didn't make enough profit. You can see that 18 year employees aren't worth as much as a discount in health care costs. When it comes to human thought, nobody is as valuable to us as ourselves.
Do you value other's opinions? Do you value their struggles? Do you value their emotions? Do you value their lives? Do you? I know I don't. I want to, but when push comes to shove, its my values that matter the most. My opinion that mattters. My struggle that is heroic. My emotions that need to be addressed. My life that is important.
Jesus's words fought against this very thing. Blessed are the meek, blessed are the peacemakers, the last shall be first, etc... We are all in a position to decide where Jesus would be on what side of the argument - but consider this, Jesus thought everyone valuable enough to die for them; young and old, rich and pour, Americans and Asians, Jews and Muslims, Republicans and Democrats, Liberals and Conservatives, good and evil. They were all valuable to Him.
Know this, in God's eyes, you are the most valuable person on Earth... and so is everyone else. Its time we really start valuing others, the way we value ourselves.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Value - Part One
Every time I think I'm ready to write this post, I find some new item or some new train of thought. So, before I write the real post - the part where I dazzle you with my brilliance - I thought I should post this article that appeared today online and let you get a head of steam going.
Is Smoking a Firing Offense?
(July 12) - Whose life is it anyway? That's what an increasing number of American workers are asking. Their bosses are replying: Whose business is this anyway?
Correspondent Morley Safer reports the issue is the way we live our lives.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
More and more that cigarette, or drink at home, that political candidate you supported, even your eating habits, are coming under the scrutiny of your boss.
If he doesn't approve, it might even cost you your job. As 60 Minutes first reported last fall, this is what happened to two Michigan women, Anita Epolito and Cara Stiffler.
Anita and Cara were considered model employees at Weyco, an insurance consulting firm outside of Lansing, Mich., both having worked at the company for years. The women sat side-by-side, sharing workloads – and after work – sharing the occasional cigarette.
But at a company benefits meeting two years ago, the company president announced, "As of January 1st, 2005, anyone that has nicotine in their body will be fired," Anita remembers. "And we sat there in awe. And I spoke out at that time. 'You can't do that to us.' And then he said, 'Yes, I can.' I said, 'That's not legal.' And he came back with, 'Yes, it is.'"
And it was legal: in Michigan, there's no law that prevents a boss from firing people virtually at will. At Weyco, that meant no smoking at work, no smoking at home, no smoking period.
Weyco gave employees 15 months to quit, before subjecting them to random nicotine testing. If you fail, you're out.
Kara says she did try to kick the habit. "I tried to quit smoking. I took advantage of their program, the smoking cessation program. But I was unsuccessful."
Anita also says she has been trying to stop smoking. "I'm trying every way to cut down, quit. Gum. I'm trying. Yes. On my own. But I don't need an employer to do that."
"I pay the bills around here. So, I'm going to set the expectations," says Howard Weyers, the boss and some would say tyrant of Weyco. "What's important? This job? And this is a very nice place to work. Or the use of tobacco? Make a decision."
Anita says she asked Weyers whether her 14 years of loyal service meant anything. She says he said "Sorry, Epolito, No."
"You didn't feel any sympathy at all for them?" Safer asked Weyers. "No, because I gave them plenty of time to make a decision. A number of their co-workers quit the habit," he replied.
In the end, 20 employees quit smoking and four who wouldn't were fired when they refused to take a breathalyzer test. A year later, Anita and Cara are still unemployed, still smoking and fuming.
"I am not the poster child for nicotine here. I think that smoking is a great smoke screen around the true issue here," says Anita. "This is about privacy. This is about what you do on your own time, that is legal, that does not conflict with your job performance."
What it is really about is money. "Big Business" is increasingly nosing into your business, trying to cut the costs of their business. And the easiest targets are smokers.
Really obese people, whose healthcare is among the costliest, are protected by federal law. But thousands of companies and countless municipal governments and police departments refuse to hire smokers, and some require affidavits, and even use lie detector tests to enforce the policy.
Bosses like Weyers will not pay for other people's bad habits.
Says Weyers, "The biggest frustration in the workplace is the cost of healthcare. Medical plans weren't established to pay for unhealthy lifestyles."
Weyers admits he never really measured how much the smokers he once employed cost him and acknowledged it may not have cost him anything.
"But, I don't know what's going to happen five years from now with that person that's smoking. That's what I don't want to wait for," says Weyers.
Weyers wouldn't back down, even when he learned that Anita wasn't on his health plan.
Weyers, a former college football coach, works out five times a week and wants his employees to share his values. At Weyco, Howard rules. "I set the policy and I'm not going to bend from the policy," says Weyers.
"But, it strikes me as a kind of intolerant attitude to the habits, foibles, eccentricities of other people," said Safer. "Right. I would say I'm intolerable," Weyers replied.
"Intolerable and intolerant," Safer responded. "I am. But I just can't be flexible on the policy," says Weyers.
But Lewis Maltby, head of the National Workrights Institute in Princeton, N.J., calls Weyco's smoking ban a form of "lifestyle discrimination."
Maltby says it is perfectly legal in 20 states and in most of America a worker has virtually no rights at all. "Under the law in all but five states in America, your boss can fire you for any reason under the sun. Including who you associate with after work. Whether you're smoking or drinking in your own home. Or a bumper sticker on your car. And you have no legal recourse."
What about Weyers' argument about increased healthcare costs?
"The problem is lots of things increase your healthcare costs. Smoking. Drinking. Eating junk food. Not getting enough sleep. Dangerous hobbies. Skiing, scuba diving. If you allow employers to regulate private behavior because it's going to affect the company's healthcare costs, we can all kiss our private lives goodbye," says Maltby.
Maltby says Weyco is an extreme case, but examples of companies nosing into their employees' lives abound. At the Borgata Casino, bartenders and waitresses – they call them "Borgata Babes" – can be fired if they gain more than seven percent of their bodyweight. Or penalizing workers by imposing higher health insurance premiums for activities the boss deems undesirable.
And Maltby says sometimes it's not even health related. "There was a gentleman last fall in West Virginia who was fired because he asked an embarrassing question of a candidate at a political rally. There was a woman in Alabama who was fired for having a ‘Kerry For President’ bumper sticker on her car. They all called their lawyers. They all called the ACLU. All got the same answer. 'You have no legal rights.'"
And then there is Ross Hopkins, who worked for an Anheuser-Busch/Budweiser beer distributor in Colorado.
"I went out on a date with my girlfriend. And we went to a country bar. And the waitress had delivered a Coors by mistake. And, you know, I just told her, 'Well, you know, I'll take it,'" recalls Hopkins.
But he then ran into the boss's son-in-law, who offered to buy him a Bud. Hopkins says he politely declined and the next day at work "they'd pulled me in and told me that they were letting me go for drinking that Coors, you know, and they told me to leave."
Hopkins says he was "very surprised" by the firing and sued the distributor for wrongful termination. Both parties refuse to discuss the final resolution.
Most companies don't care what beer you drink – it's how much you drink or smoke or eat.
James Ramsey, the president of the University of Louisville, says the cost of bad behavior by university staff was getting out of hand. "The Band-Aids weren't working. The quick fixes weren't working. We can do mail order form pharmacy. We can do all those kinds of things to control cost. But our costs are going up."
So the university is trying another tactic. They instituted a so-called "wellness program." If employees shape up, slim down, and fill out a questionnaire, a kind of confessional of your health, eating and sexual habits, they get a $20 monthly credit on their health insurance premiums.
Ramsey signed up himself and says he saw a dramatic improvement in his own health. "I've lost 30 pounds. And I don't have to take blood pressure medicine." And he says he has never felt better and is working out five times a week.
Part of the university's program are coaches who essentially nag participants about their weight, eating and other lifestyle habits.
"Isn't that going a little far in terms of the private lives of the people working for you?" Safer asked. "If I volunteer for a program, then I'm volunteering to be nagged and to be pushed. And it works," says Ramsey.
He says it is too soon to know if the wellness program is controlling costs.
But Mark Rothstein, a bio-ethics professor at Louisville, did not sign up.
Rothstein says wellness programs may lead to better health, but questions whether people can trust in the confidentiality of the questionnaire they filled out. "People who work for employers who perhaps don't have the best record of keeping privacy might well be concerned that the information could filter back to the company. And they could be adversely treated."
"Not get that promotion," says Safer. "Exactly. There's a tremendous incentive for employers to try to weed out high -ost healthcare users. Five percent of employees represent 50 percent of healthcare costs. And if you're an employer and can identify who these people are, you can save a lot of money to your bottom line," says Rothstein.
Which is what this is all about. Countless companies like Quaker Oats, Johnson and Johnson, Honeywell, Motorola and IBM claim to have saved millions after instituting wellness programs. But all that good health might not necessarily make for the best workforce.
The city of North Miami, Fla., used to require that all its new police officers be non-smokers. But two years ago, the city quietly dropped the smoking ban.
"We realized that at best, we may save five percent on our insurance premium. But now we are having a problem with trying to recruit and hire highly qualified candidates. And we’re competing against agencies that did not have that policy," says Chief of Police Gwendolyn Boyd.
Is Smoking a Firing Offense?
(July 12) - Whose life is it anyway? That's what an increasing number of American workers are asking. Their bosses are replying: Whose business is this anyway?
Correspondent Morley Safer reports the issue is the way we live our lives.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
More and more that cigarette, or drink at home, that political candidate you supported, even your eating habits, are coming under the scrutiny of your boss.
If he doesn't approve, it might even cost you your job. As 60 Minutes first reported last fall, this is what happened to two Michigan women, Anita Epolito and Cara Stiffler.
Anita and Cara were considered model employees at Weyco, an insurance consulting firm outside of Lansing, Mich., both having worked at the company for years. The women sat side-by-side, sharing workloads – and after work – sharing the occasional cigarette.
But at a company benefits meeting two years ago, the company president announced, "As of January 1st, 2005, anyone that has nicotine in their body will be fired," Anita remembers. "And we sat there in awe. And I spoke out at that time. 'You can't do that to us.' And then he said, 'Yes, I can.' I said, 'That's not legal.' And he came back with, 'Yes, it is.'"
And it was legal: in Michigan, there's no law that prevents a boss from firing people virtually at will. At Weyco, that meant no smoking at work, no smoking at home, no smoking period.
Weyco gave employees 15 months to quit, before subjecting them to random nicotine testing. If you fail, you're out.
Kara says she did try to kick the habit. "I tried to quit smoking. I took advantage of their program, the smoking cessation program. But I was unsuccessful."
Anita also says she has been trying to stop smoking. "I'm trying every way to cut down, quit. Gum. I'm trying. Yes. On my own. But I don't need an employer to do that."
"I pay the bills around here. So, I'm going to set the expectations," says Howard Weyers, the boss and some would say tyrant of Weyco. "What's important? This job? And this is a very nice place to work. Or the use of tobacco? Make a decision."
Anita says she asked Weyers whether her 14 years of loyal service meant anything. She says he said "Sorry, Epolito, No."
"You didn't feel any sympathy at all for them?" Safer asked Weyers. "No, because I gave them plenty of time to make a decision. A number of their co-workers quit the habit," he replied.
In the end, 20 employees quit smoking and four who wouldn't were fired when they refused to take a breathalyzer test. A year later, Anita and Cara are still unemployed, still smoking and fuming.
"I am not the poster child for nicotine here. I think that smoking is a great smoke screen around the true issue here," says Anita. "This is about privacy. This is about what you do on your own time, that is legal, that does not conflict with your job performance."
What it is really about is money. "Big Business" is increasingly nosing into your business, trying to cut the costs of their business. And the easiest targets are smokers.
Really obese people, whose healthcare is among the costliest, are protected by federal law. But thousands of companies and countless municipal governments and police departments refuse to hire smokers, and some require affidavits, and even use lie detector tests to enforce the policy.
Bosses like Weyers will not pay for other people's bad habits.
Says Weyers, "The biggest frustration in the workplace is the cost of healthcare. Medical plans weren't established to pay for unhealthy lifestyles."
Weyers admits he never really measured how much the smokers he once employed cost him and acknowledged it may not have cost him anything.
"But, I don't know what's going to happen five years from now with that person that's smoking. That's what I don't want to wait for," says Weyers.
Weyers wouldn't back down, even when he learned that Anita wasn't on his health plan.
Weyers, a former college football coach, works out five times a week and wants his employees to share his values. At Weyco, Howard rules. "I set the policy and I'm not going to bend from the policy," says Weyers.
"But, it strikes me as a kind of intolerant attitude to the habits, foibles, eccentricities of other people," said Safer. "Right. I would say I'm intolerable," Weyers replied.
"Intolerable and intolerant," Safer responded. "I am. But I just can't be flexible on the policy," says Weyers.
But Lewis Maltby, head of the National Workrights Institute in Princeton, N.J., calls Weyco's smoking ban a form of "lifestyle discrimination."
Maltby says it is perfectly legal in 20 states and in most of America a worker has virtually no rights at all. "Under the law in all but five states in America, your boss can fire you for any reason under the sun. Including who you associate with after work. Whether you're smoking or drinking in your own home. Or a bumper sticker on your car. And you have no legal recourse."
What about Weyers' argument about increased healthcare costs?
"The problem is lots of things increase your healthcare costs. Smoking. Drinking. Eating junk food. Not getting enough sleep. Dangerous hobbies. Skiing, scuba diving. If you allow employers to regulate private behavior because it's going to affect the company's healthcare costs, we can all kiss our private lives goodbye," says Maltby.
Maltby says Weyco is an extreme case, but examples of companies nosing into their employees' lives abound. At the Borgata Casino, bartenders and waitresses – they call them "Borgata Babes" – can be fired if they gain more than seven percent of their bodyweight. Or penalizing workers by imposing higher health insurance premiums for activities the boss deems undesirable.
And Maltby says sometimes it's not even health related. "There was a gentleman last fall in West Virginia who was fired because he asked an embarrassing question of a candidate at a political rally. There was a woman in Alabama who was fired for having a ‘Kerry For President’ bumper sticker on her car. They all called their lawyers. They all called the ACLU. All got the same answer. 'You have no legal rights.'"
And then there is Ross Hopkins, who worked for an Anheuser-Busch/Budweiser beer distributor in Colorado.
"I went out on a date with my girlfriend. And we went to a country bar. And the waitress had delivered a Coors by mistake. And, you know, I just told her, 'Well, you know, I'll take it,'" recalls Hopkins.
But he then ran into the boss's son-in-law, who offered to buy him a Bud. Hopkins says he politely declined and the next day at work "they'd pulled me in and told me that they were letting me go for drinking that Coors, you know, and they told me to leave."
Hopkins says he was "very surprised" by the firing and sued the distributor for wrongful termination. Both parties refuse to discuss the final resolution.
Most companies don't care what beer you drink – it's how much you drink or smoke or eat.
James Ramsey, the president of the University of Louisville, says the cost of bad behavior by university staff was getting out of hand. "The Band-Aids weren't working. The quick fixes weren't working. We can do mail order form pharmacy. We can do all those kinds of things to control cost. But our costs are going up."
So the university is trying another tactic. They instituted a so-called "wellness program." If employees shape up, slim down, and fill out a questionnaire, a kind of confessional of your health, eating and sexual habits, they get a $20 monthly credit on their health insurance premiums.
Ramsey signed up himself and says he saw a dramatic improvement in his own health. "I've lost 30 pounds. And I don't have to take blood pressure medicine." And he says he has never felt better and is working out five times a week.
Part of the university's program are coaches who essentially nag participants about their weight, eating and other lifestyle habits.
"Isn't that going a little far in terms of the private lives of the people working for you?" Safer asked. "If I volunteer for a program, then I'm volunteering to be nagged and to be pushed. And it works," says Ramsey.
He says it is too soon to know if the wellness program is controlling costs.
But Mark Rothstein, a bio-ethics professor at Louisville, did not sign up.
Rothstein says wellness programs may lead to better health, but questions whether people can trust in the confidentiality of the questionnaire they filled out. "People who work for employers who perhaps don't have the best record of keeping privacy might well be concerned that the information could filter back to the company. And they could be adversely treated."
"Not get that promotion," says Safer. "Exactly. There's a tremendous incentive for employers to try to weed out high -ost healthcare users. Five percent of employees represent 50 percent of healthcare costs. And if you're an employer and can identify who these people are, you can save a lot of money to your bottom line," says Rothstein.
Which is what this is all about. Countless companies like Quaker Oats, Johnson and Johnson, Honeywell, Motorola and IBM claim to have saved millions after instituting wellness programs. But all that good health might not necessarily make for the best workforce.
The city of North Miami, Fla., used to require that all its new police officers be non-smokers. But two years ago, the city quietly dropped the smoking ban.
"We realized that at best, we may save five percent on our insurance premium. But now we are having a problem with trying to recruit and hire highly qualified candidates. And we’re competing against agencies that did not have that policy," says Chief of Police Gwendolyn Boyd.
Housecleaning
I've been trying to get some things done around here. The TAC Website, for instance, has a great many projects underway, though changes to its super structure will probably not be noticed for a couple of months. A major change, however, is that we are fast rushing towards the launch of our online store, Nostalgique.
But most importantly, I now have people thoroughly engrossed in the first ten chapters of my novel - readings are under way - and I've created a new blog for people who want to comment on their readings. Those who have read the first ten chapters, can go here. The rest of you should wait until you've had the opportunity to read these chapters, since no matter how good we are at hiding information, there will be spoilers at this blog.
That being said, and done, I move on to always the next project - a Youth Group Reunion this Saturday, a surprise party less than two weeks from now, a 70th Birthday party for my Dad, launch of a webstore, mad rush to rewrite my website, sending off manuscripts to agents, cleaning my house, and all sorts of assorted other projects. I'd be tired, if I had the time ;)
But most importantly, I now have people thoroughly engrossed in the first ten chapters of my novel - readings are under way - and I've created a new blog for people who want to comment on their readings. Those who have read the first ten chapters, can go here. The rest of you should wait until you've had the opportunity to read these chapters, since no matter how good we are at hiding information, there will be spoilers at this blog.
That being said, and done, I move on to always the next project - a Youth Group Reunion this Saturday, a surprise party less than two weeks from now, a 70th Birthday party for my Dad, launch of a webstore, mad rush to rewrite my website, sending off manuscripts to agents, cleaning my house, and all sorts of assorted other projects. I'd be tired, if I had the time ;)
Monday, July 17, 2006
My 197th Post!
Now that I have achieved this great milestone, I would normally look back on the previous 196 posts and comment about them. But you already know what I said and probably already think I sound like a broken record anyway. Its not everyday that you reach 197 posts and all that that implies. Kurt Vonnegut said it best, and I am paraphrasing greatly here, "God is probably not a numerologist."
We seem to place great emphasis on things that ought to have meaning, but probably don't. Round numbers, one hundred, two hundred - patterns we see in things that should have meaning. Walt Disney World is fileld with "hidden mickeys" - a configuration of three circles that should remind their guests of the famous mouse host. People see these things all the time and, in fact, we become inundated with "hidden mickeys" in our lives - quiet, unobtrusive symbols that nevertheless seem to find placeholders in our subconscious.
But Christ rejects all these things by overpowering them with the one true symbol of all that matters - the Cross. Here is a symbol that means persecution. Here is a symbol that means death. Here is a symbol that means transformation. Here is a symbol that calls out for us to throw our evil its way. Do your worst, it says, and I will still love you. It is not a trademark. It is not registered to a company. Its not the symbol of a corporation. Seeing it doesn't remind us to buy anything. Yet, it is more powerful than all other symbols combined. It means life everlasting - something that can't be bought or sold, controlled or released. It is something given to us by grace.
I was thinking about the pills I have to take for hypertension last night. As near as I can tell, I will probably take them for the rest of my life. They keep me alive. They allow me to thrive. It can put me into a head space that tells me that I am healthy - that my pills make me healthy. But the truth is that they are a reminder that I am sick and that I need the pills to exist. How much like pills is the word of God? I can read them and think that because I read them, I am healthy. But, in truth and love, they are a reminder that I am sick and that I need His words to exist.
I think sometimes that I know more than I do. I filter what I know through the framework of my human mind - my mind that sees importance where there is none. But I am always reminded that every little bit of knowledge I have comes from God. I can not fathom Him - but that which He allows me to understand. And in terms of fathoms, I am definitely in the shallow end of the pool.
I need those "pills" that God gives me. I need to be reminded that I am not an authority, but a fellow student. I am struggling to make sense of it all and I doubt I will ever understand.
We seem to place great emphasis on things that ought to have meaning, but probably don't. Round numbers, one hundred, two hundred - patterns we see in things that should have meaning. Walt Disney World is fileld with "hidden mickeys" - a configuration of three circles that should remind their guests of the famous mouse host. People see these things all the time and, in fact, we become inundated with "hidden mickeys" in our lives - quiet, unobtrusive symbols that nevertheless seem to find placeholders in our subconscious.
But Christ rejects all these things by overpowering them with the one true symbol of all that matters - the Cross. Here is a symbol that means persecution. Here is a symbol that means death. Here is a symbol that means transformation. Here is a symbol that calls out for us to throw our evil its way. Do your worst, it says, and I will still love you. It is not a trademark. It is not registered to a company. Its not the symbol of a corporation. Seeing it doesn't remind us to buy anything. Yet, it is more powerful than all other symbols combined. It means life everlasting - something that can't be bought or sold, controlled or released. It is something given to us by grace.
I was thinking about the pills I have to take for hypertension last night. As near as I can tell, I will probably take them for the rest of my life. They keep me alive. They allow me to thrive. It can put me into a head space that tells me that I am healthy - that my pills make me healthy. But the truth is that they are a reminder that I am sick and that I need the pills to exist. How much like pills is the word of God? I can read them and think that because I read them, I am healthy. But, in truth and love, they are a reminder that I am sick and that I need His words to exist.
I think sometimes that I know more than I do. I filter what I know through the framework of my human mind - my mind that sees importance where there is none. But I am always reminded that every little bit of knowledge I have comes from God. I can not fathom Him - but that which He allows me to understand. And in terms of fathoms, I am definitely in the shallow end of the pool.
I need those "pills" that God gives me. I need to be reminded that I am not an authority, but a fellow student. I am struggling to make sense of it all and I doubt I will ever understand.
Friday, July 14, 2006
I Categorically Deny This!
Friday's Category Subject!
If you were President of the United States, what three cabinet positions (real or newly created) would you consider me for Chairman?
So get out there and rock the vote!
If you were President of the United States, what three cabinet positions (real or newly created) would you consider me for Chairman?
So get out there and rock the vote!
Things that make me go hmmm... #1
Intellectual conceit aside, there are certain things that are screwed up in this nation that greater minds than mine have tried to fix. Its the political equivalent of trying to build a better mousetrap. Us Armchair Politicians can sit in our quiet houses and imagine vast and sweeping reforms that will fix these problems. By understanding, of course, that this blog is not going to change the world, I'd still like to take a whack at these things and see if this vast cloud of intellectual giants that is the blogosphere can determine a solution. So, here are my ideas, and then I want you all to add your own or tell me I'm an idiot. Let's try to keep this from becoming the usual blue state/red state fiasco.
My co-worker just got back from jury duty - a thankless task for which she was paid a whopping $15 - minus $2.50 for a sandwich. I have never been able to serve on jury duty for this reason - who can afford to work for $15 a day? Let's say the average jury trial is one week. And let's say, after taxes, you earn $100 a day. That's $500 pay, for which you get reimbursed $75. Who is going to make up $425 in your salary for that month? For most everyone this would be a hardship. For some, it would be downright disastrous. For others, it would just be annoying.
Like the military reserves, your company has to let you serve on jury duty, but there is no guarantee of missed pay during this time. So, for most people, jury duty means lost wages. These lost wages are entirely the burden of the jurist to repay. Their company does not reimburse them. The government does not reimburse them. And the bills that need to be paid, still need to be paid - and jury duty is not an excuse.
Now, you know the economics of this situation. But what is the solution? Should jurists be paid more? How much more? Who should pay them? Where should this money come from? Should the burden fall to a jurists' company? What if the jurist is self employed? Should jurist be given exemptions from bill paying for one month? Who is going to reimburse the companies that are owed money?
Part of the problem I see is that the system is designed to work against jurists. They are required to appear. They are required to serve. They are not offered just compensation. They can be ordered to serve when it is the most inconvenient time for them. They are under the jurisdiction of the courts while they serve (they can be sequestered, etc...) Who, in their right mind, would want to be a jurist?
I understand the honor of serving. I understand the duty that is fulfilled by serving. I am an American and I abhor the concept of full-time jurists who clock in and out for a paycheck. But I also know that I have yet to be able to afford to be a jurist and I don't forsee that situation changing anytime soon.
I have a simple, albeit unlikely, solution to the whole problem - move trials to the night time. Make all jury trials run from 5pm to Midnight. (I can hear my sister screaming now, "What? Are you insane?") Think about it? Jurists can work during the day - then come be on a jury at night. They still have time to go home and rest before getting up to go to work the next day. Financial problems are removed (they may have to leave work early... but that's a lot better than not being there at all). And you open up the jury pool to millions more Americans who are now willing and eager to do their civic duty for the United States.
So, I'm curious to see what other people think. What would your solution be to the problem of Jury Duty?
My co-worker just got back from jury duty - a thankless task for which she was paid a whopping $15 - minus $2.50 for a sandwich. I have never been able to serve on jury duty for this reason - who can afford to work for $15 a day? Let's say the average jury trial is one week. And let's say, after taxes, you earn $100 a day. That's $500 pay, for which you get reimbursed $75. Who is going to make up $425 in your salary for that month? For most everyone this would be a hardship. For some, it would be downright disastrous. For others, it would just be annoying.
Like the military reserves, your company has to let you serve on jury duty, but there is no guarantee of missed pay during this time. So, for most people, jury duty means lost wages. These lost wages are entirely the burden of the jurist to repay. Their company does not reimburse them. The government does not reimburse them. And the bills that need to be paid, still need to be paid - and jury duty is not an excuse.
Now, you know the economics of this situation. But what is the solution? Should jurists be paid more? How much more? Who should pay them? Where should this money come from? Should the burden fall to a jurists' company? What if the jurist is self employed? Should jurist be given exemptions from bill paying for one month? Who is going to reimburse the companies that are owed money?
Part of the problem I see is that the system is designed to work against jurists. They are required to appear. They are required to serve. They are not offered just compensation. They can be ordered to serve when it is the most inconvenient time for them. They are under the jurisdiction of the courts while they serve (they can be sequestered, etc...) Who, in their right mind, would want to be a jurist?
I understand the honor of serving. I understand the duty that is fulfilled by serving. I am an American and I abhor the concept of full-time jurists who clock in and out for a paycheck. But I also know that I have yet to be able to afford to be a jurist and I don't forsee that situation changing anytime soon.
I have a simple, albeit unlikely, solution to the whole problem - move trials to the night time. Make all jury trials run from 5pm to Midnight. (I can hear my sister screaming now, "What? Are you insane?") Think about it? Jurists can work during the day - then come be on a jury at night. They still have time to go home and rest before getting up to go to work the next day. Financial problems are removed (they may have to leave work early... but that's a lot better than not being there at all). And you open up the jury pool to millions more Americans who are now willing and eager to do their civic duty for the United States.
So, I'm curious to see what other people think. What would your solution be to the problem of Jury Duty?
Thursday, July 13, 2006
What's it all about?
How's this for a change? A theological discussion has led to a political discussion has led to my novel. And not the other way around.
Andy's wonderful blog post of yesterday sparked an interesting debate about the use of alcohol. I admit to being just a bit bored yesterday when I read the post and ignored it the first time. But Andy felt like stirring the pot a bit and so, I went to the discussion section and posted some thoughts. These thoughts were not well thought out, but the sort of common place thoughts that reside in your head as a place marker - a thought that you keep until real life forces you to contemplate the reasons behind the thought. We carry these kind of place marker thoughts in our brains all the time so that we can have opinions about anything and everything and thus appear to be educated. Most of our wisdom is actually a few well considered thoughts and tons of place marker thoughts.
As I expected, the discussion became intense. Theological concepts were being thrown around left and right. One of these concepts was a verse that I knew had been abused in the past to cover up all sorts of political malfeasance. I explained that I didn't agree with the verse and was told, rightly I believe, by Pastor Peter that I was a fool for questioning the scripture. Many people came to my defense - thus seemingly justifying my words. What had started as a simple stirring of the pot was quickly devolving into a debate between man and God.
When the situation in Zimbabwe was thrown into the mix, my first thought was, "Bravo! Thank you for proving my point!" And that was almost instantly followed with the thought, "Wait a second... maybe this is going a bit too far."
And that was when I thought about my Novel and I knew that I had gone too far. I think I recognized this fact because I see a lot of my own shortcomings in the Novel, and I know that this is one shortcoming I am constantly trying to overcome.
The main character of my Novel is a kid whose youthful head is filled with tons of these place marker thoughts. But he is not quite wise enough to realize that these thoughts are not a substitute for real tried and true and tested thinking. He tends to "offer" this advice to everyone, whether they want it or not, and whether it helps things or not. In fact, in the first chapter, this kid's big mouth gets him into a lot of trouble - trouble that follows him throughout the rest of the book.
As the story evolves, this kid never learns from his mistakes. He continues to make statements and act on his "convictions" without stopping to think about what he is saying or what he is doing, even to the point of co-opting religion to make his point. In the end, he leads a great many people to a tragic ending and only after a lot of death and hardship does he come to realize the errors of his ways.
Too often we are more interested in being right than in being good. Only true wisdom can cure us of this habit. Sometimes wisdom tells us that we have to be obedient, even unto death, in order to truly solve the world's problems. I can assure you that this is not right. But it is good.
And thus we come full circle. Religion to Politics to Novel, and back to religion again.
Andy's wonderful blog post of yesterday sparked an interesting debate about the use of alcohol. I admit to being just a bit bored yesterday when I read the post and ignored it the first time. But Andy felt like stirring the pot a bit and so, I went to the discussion section and posted some thoughts. These thoughts were not well thought out, but the sort of common place thoughts that reside in your head as a place marker - a thought that you keep until real life forces you to contemplate the reasons behind the thought. We carry these kind of place marker thoughts in our brains all the time so that we can have opinions about anything and everything and thus appear to be educated. Most of our wisdom is actually a few well considered thoughts and tons of place marker thoughts.
As I expected, the discussion became intense. Theological concepts were being thrown around left and right. One of these concepts was a verse that I knew had been abused in the past to cover up all sorts of political malfeasance. I explained that I didn't agree with the verse and was told, rightly I believe, by Pastor Peter that I was a fool for questioning the scripture. Many people came to my defense - thus seemingly justifying my words. What had started as a simple stirring of the pot was quickly devolving into a debate between man and God.
When the situation in Zimbabwe was thrown into the mix, my first thought was, "Bravo! Thank you for proving my point!" And that was almost instantly followed with the thought, "Wait a second... maybe this is going a bit too far."
And that was when I thought about my Novel and I knew that I had gone too far. I think I recognized this fact because I see a lot of my own shortcomings in the Novel, and I know that this is one shortcoming I am constantly trying to overcome.
The main character of my Novel is a kid whose youthful head is filled with tons of these place marker thoughts. But he is not quite wise enough to realize that these thoughts are not a substitute for real tried and true and tested thinking. He tends to "offer" this advice to everyone, whether they want it or not, and whether it helps things or not. In fact, in the first chapter, this kid's big mouth gets him into a lot of trouble - trouble that follows him throughout the rest of the book.
As the story evolves, this kid never learns from his mistakes. He continues to make statements and act on his "convictions" without stopping to think about what he is saying or what he is doing, even to the point of co-opting religion to make his point. In the end, he leads a great many people to a tragic ending and only after a lot of death and hardship does he come to realize the errors of his ways.
Too often we are more interested in being right than in being good. Only true wisdom can cure us of this habit. Sometimes wisdom tells us that we have to be obedient, even unto death, in order to truly solve the world's problems. I can assure you that this is not right. But it is good.
And thus we come full circle. Religion to Politics to Novel, and back to religion again.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
The Second Deadly Sin...
No matter what I say, someone will say that I'm just trying to relive my youth, but there are certain things that will get you dragged into the past faster than others. It was bad enough that I grew up nerdy, but to want to revisit this time... that takes chutzpah!
I grew up a geek and a nerd. I was the nerd's nerd. I was the nerd triple threat. I loved movies. I loved comic books. And I loved RPG's - or role playing games to the uninitiated (like Dungeons and Dragons - that classic brand of nerddom!) I have never lost my love for movies. I finally broke the habit of comic books in the early nineties when I realized that 1/4 of every paycheck was going to my comic bunk pusher to keep me up on the latest fix. I quit comics cold turkey and I've never looked back. I can't even really open a comic book without devouring it and wanting more. Its crack for my writer's mind. But the worst of these vices was and is, RPG's.
From a writer's stand point, jumping to RPG's is not a great leap. You create scenarios, push characters through the scenarios, and come to a pre-conceived conclusion on the other end. You just use dice with RPG's to get there. In fact, my Novel got its start as an RPG back in Jr. High School.
RPG's had a great influence on me as a teen because they allowed me to explore greater and more complex ideas in a rigid format. They allowed me to test my theories about story, pacing, and character development. And they allowed me to goof around quite a bit with my friends. But, when high school ended and I went off to the Navy, the lure of RPG's slowly left me. For the most part, I didn't have anyone to play with anymore. So, I quit. I packed up my stuff and walked away.
Fast forward 12 years to me as a Youth Leader. There was a kid in my group who was having a rough time of it. I was encouraged to spend some extra time with this kid. It wasn't hard. He liked movies. And was versed in current comic book knowlege as well. We hit it off. Then one day, I saw him with Dungeons and Dragons books and we started talking. The next thing I know, I'm being waylayed by other kids in my youth group to play D&D with them. I should have said no, but I was trying to build up the youth group at the time. As soon as the needle hit the vein and I felt the icy drug of adventure and nerdiness slide into me, it was like the walls were singing to me and a purple haze encompassed my brain.
We've been playing together now for nearly three years. Its been fun, but I've tried to keep the perspective tight (and there's been a lot of sneaky theology snuck into the campaigns ;). Still, I wonder what adults and parents think of the 35 plus year old man still playing RPG's. Do they have any concept that I'd be more than willing to quit at any time?
What brings this all to mind is that my good friend, Nick, and I have been toying with the idea of creating an RPG system from scratch that would be Open (i.e. Modifiable by everyone - players, designers, etc...) Finally tired of waiting for me to do something about it, Nick has created a blog called tacrpg (See the link's section) to facilitate discussions about this topic. If you know anything about RPG's, or are well versed in game theory, or if you're just curious about how we geeks intend to take over the world someday, then I urge you to stop by and check it out. Until then, watch out for Red Dragons, and always keep your sword sharp.
I grew up a geek and a nerd. I was the nerd's nerd. I was the nerd triple threat. I loved movies. I loved comic books. And I loved RPG's - or role playing games to the uninitiated (like Dungeons and Dragons - that classic brand of nerddom!) I have never lost my love for movies. I finally broke the habit of comic books in the early nineties when I realized that 1/4 of every paycheck was going to my comic bunk pusher to keep me up on the latest fix. I quit comics cold turkey and I've never looked back. I can't even really open a comic book without devouring it and wanting more. Its crack for my writer's mind. But the worst of these vices was and is, RPG's.
From a writer's stand point, jumping to RPG's is not a great leap. You create scenarios, push characters through the scenarios, and come to a pre-conceived conclusion on the other end. You just use dice with RPG's to get there. In fact, my Novel got its start as an RPG back in Jr. High School.
RPG's had a great influence on me as a teen because they allowed me to explore greater and more complex ideas in a rigid format. They allowed me to test my theories about story, pacing, and character development. And they allowed me to goof around quite a bit with my friends. But, when high school ended and I went off to the Navy, the lure of RPG's slowly left me. For the most part, I didn't have anyone to play with anymore. So, I quit. I packed up my stuff and walked away.
Fast forward 12 years to me as a Youth Leader. There was a kid in my group who was having a rough time of it. I was encouraged to spend some extra time with this kid. It wasn't hard. He liked movies. And was versed in current comic book knowlege as well. We hit it off. Then one day, I saw him with Dungeons and Dragons books and we started talking. The next thing I know, I'm being waylayed by other kids in my youth group to play D&D with them. I should have said no, but I was trying to build up the youth group at the time. As soon as the needle hit the vein and I felt the icy drug of adventure and nerdiness slide into me, it was like the walls were singing to me and a purple haze encompassed my brain.
We've been playing together now for nearly three years. Its been fun, but I've tried to keep the perspective tight (and there's been a lot of sneaky theology snuck into the campaigns ;). Still, I wonder what adults and parents think of the 35 plus year old man still playing RPG's. Do they have any concept that I'd be more than willing to quit at any time?
What brings this all to mind is that my good friend, Nick, and I have been toying with the idea of creating an RPG system from scratch that would be Open (i.e. Modifiable by everyone - players, designers, etc...) Finally tired of waiting for me to do something about it, Nick has created a blog called tacrpg (See the link's section) to facilitate discussions about this topic. If you know anything about RPG's, or are well versed in game theory, or if you're just curious about how we geeks intend to take over the world someday, then I urge you to stop by and check it out. Until then, watch out for Red Dragons, and always keep your sword sharp.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Baby Steps
There's far too much to take in here
More to find than can ever be found
But the sun rolling high through the sapphire sky
Keeps great and small on the endless round...
Its the circle of life, and it moves us all... but its also crushing and debilitating and overwhelming at times. We have but a few moments on this planet, a few precious moments in which to do all that we've come here to do. We look around us and see all the things we'd like to get done and we know, intuitively, that we will never accomplish half of it. And that leads us to questions of what to get done, what to accomplish, what is our main purpose, and when do we get a chance to rest.
From my spot here on the bench I am reminded that Jesus rested often. He rested in the Garden, He rested in his home. He was doing a lot of work and He required a lot of rest. Do you ever get the impression that Jesus left a lot of words unspoken, that He left a lot of work undone? I get that feeling all the time. I get the idea that had Jesus five more years on Earth, Christianity as we know it would have been radically different. But He didn't. Like all human beings, His time came to an end sooner than He would have liked. His work did not get finished. But Jesus was not here to build a theme park where his family could come together and ride rides together. Jesus was here to lay the groundwork for His kingdom. He knew that. He knew what He was here for. And He was able to accomplish that by choosing the right people to carry on His legacy after He died.
Pondering our existence is an age old way to dodge the work that needs to be done. It is a favorite pasttime of those sitting on benches. Its no use trying to grasp the future or learning mistakes from the past if there is no framework to your life. You can not shape the base of the floor, nor hang the cieling, if you do not know what shape the walls will be. I have not looked at the blueprints of my life for a long time. My house is beginning to look like it was designed by Ouija board. So, ponder I must.
Work needs to be done, however. And so, as much as I need to disengage and determine my future route, I also need to get things done. There is a lot to do. And I will try to do it all because I don't know what is most important yet. But I can't possibly accomplish it all. And that will frustrate me and flag my energy and make me want to crawl under the covers and forget everything. When I start to feel overwhelmed, I stop working and hope the problems will go away. Its not a good plan. It never works. And yet, I keep doing it.
About ten years ago, when I graduated from college and the world was wide open to me again, I faced a similar situation. For two years I pondered back and forth and forth and back while I worked one day after the next - existing. My bench began to feel comfortable then and it took me a great amount of time and energy to break free of the lethargy that tied me down. I broke free using baby steps. I completed short tiny projects that allowed me the ability to accomplish things without the overwhelming pressure of large undertakings. It worked. Slowly, the lethargy drained away. I built a website (it was four pages at first). And then I started writing short stories again. And then I started adding video. And then I moved to Vegas. And then I moved back. And then I left Century Theaters. And then I joined a new company. And then I went back to church. And then I became a youth leader. And then I became an Elder. And then I started writing a novel. And then I was a stage manager. And then I got a promotion. And then... I finished the novel. And everything came crashing to a halt. I stopped, sat down, and watched the world pass me by from my nice wide bench.
I so want things to just click. I so want to wake up in the morning and discover the secret to making everything go my way. But its a struggle for me. Just as I imagine its a struggle for you. All I know is that its time to get off the bench and time to go ride some rides. It won't happen all at once. It won't happen in any pattern I can ascertain. But it will happen. My time here is short. But my purpose here will be accomplished because God will guide me there. Not my will be done, but His.
More to find than can ever be found
But the sun rolling high through the sapphire sky
Keeps great and small on the endless round...
Its the circle of life, and it moves us all... but its also crushing and debilitating and overwhelming at times. We have but a few moments on this planet, a few precious moments in which to do all that we've come here to do. We look around us and see all the things we'd like to get done and we know, intuitively, that we will never accomplish half of it. And that leads us to questions of what to get done, what to accomplish, what is our main purpose, and when do we get a chance to rest.
From my spot here on the bench I am reminded that Jesus rested often. He rested in the Garden, He rested in his home. He was doing a lot of work and He required a lot of rest. Do you ever get the impression that Jesus left a lot of words unspoken, that He left a lot of work undone? I get that feeling all the time. I get the idea that had Jesus five more years on Earth, Christianity as we know it would have been radically different. But He didn't. Like all human beings, His time came to an end sooner than He would have liked. His work did not get finished. But Jesus was not here to build a theme park where his family could come together and ride rides together. Jesus was here to lay the groundwork for His kingdom. He knew that. He knew what He was here for. And He was able to accomplish that by choosing the right people to carry on His legacy after He died.
Pondering our existence is an age old way to dodge the work that needs to be done. It is a favorite pasttime of those sitting on benches. Its no use trying to grasp the future or learning mistakes from the past if there is no framework to your life. You can not shape the base of the floor, nor hang the cieling, if you do not know what shape the walls will be. I have not looked at the blueprints of my life for a long time. My house is beginning to look like it was designed by Ouija board. So, ponder I must.
Work needs to be done, however. And so, as much as I need to disengage and determine my future route, I also need to get things done. There is a lot to do. And I will try to do it all because I don't know what is most important yet. But I can't possibly accomplish it all. And that will frustrate me and flag my energy and make me want to crawl under the covers and forget everything. When I start to feel overwhelmed, I stop working and hope the problems will go away. Its not a good plan. It never works. And yet, I keep doing it.
About ten years ago, when I graduated from college and the world was wide open to me again, I faced a similar situation. For two years I pondered back and forth and forth and back while I worked one day after the next - existing. My bench began to feel comfortable then and it took me a great amount of time and energy to break free of the lethargy that tied me down. I broke free using baby steps. I completed short tiny projects that allowed me the ability to accomplish things without the overwhelming pressure of large undertakings. It worked. Slowly, the lethargy drained away. I built a website (it was four pages at first). And then I started writing short stories again. And then I started adding video. And then I moved to Vegas. And then I moved back. And then I left Century Theaters. And then I joined a new company. And then I went back to church. And then I became a youth leader. And then I became an Elder. And then I started writing a novel. And then I was a stage manager. And then I got a promotion. And then... I finished the novel. And everything came crashing to a halt. I stopped, sat down, and watched the world pass me by from my nice wide bench.
I so want things to just click. I so want to wake up in the morning and discover the secret to making everything go my way. But its a struggle for me. Just as I imagine its a struggle for you. All I know is that its time to get off the bench and time to go ride some rides. It won't happen all at once. It won't happen in any pattern I can ascertain. But it will happen. My time here is short. But my purpose here will be accomplished because God will guide me there. Not my will be done, but His.
Monday, July 10, 2006
The Disney Bench
Walt Disney, when he was younger, used to take his daughters to the park and sit on the park bench while they rode around on the merry go round. As he sat there and watched them go round and round, a thought occured to him, "What if there was an amusement park where families could go and ride together?" From that thought, we eventually got Disneyland and Disney's name would live on immortally forever. (As a quick side note: the new Walt Disney Films logo that comes at the beginning of Pirates 2 is REALLY REALLY COOL!)
When I was younger and life seemed to be throwing one thing after another at me, I calmly accepted it and rode it out. I would say to myself, "Life is a roller coaster. Just hang on and enjoy the ride."
Somewhere along the line, I joined Disney on the bench. Somewhere I decided that rides were for younger people and us, older, and more dignified, people sat on benches and watched. We write blogs about other people's accomplishments because we haven't got any of our own, or if we do, they are dignified and polished. We write about books we've read, or plays we've seen, placid vacation spots, or ideas that we've had. No one my age writes about the last time they jumped out of an airplane, or the list of women they've met while on safari in Africa. Why? Because these people, if they exist, are not on the bench with me. They are doing. I am watching.
I'm going to get a T-shirt that says, "God, thank you for giving me a swift kick in the a**!" I pray this morning that I want to start doing things, and the next thing you know, I realize that I'm sitting on the bench.
The bench is safe. The bench is warm. Its a cocoon. You don't have to face the real world here. You can comment on it. You can worry about it. But you don't have to do anything else about it. Being on the bench is a way of life. You can make plans about what you'd like to do - wouldn't it be great if there was a park for entire families to gather in - but until you get off that bench, those plans are just ideas.
I'm getting off the bench. See ya.
P.S. THE FIRST REVIEW IS IN!
"THE THIN LINE IS A PAGE TURNER! I COULDN'T PUT IT DOWN! I WAS READY TO SAY IT SUCKED, BUT INSTEAD, IT SUCKED ME IN!"
- Will's Mom
Hey, I don't make this stuff up. There are still two copies of the first 10 chapters waiting for readers. Join now and be the first on your block to say you read next year's Pulitzer Prize Winning Novel!
When I was younger and life seemed to be throwing one thing after another at me, I calmly accepted it and rode it out. I would say to myself, "Life is a roller coaster. Just hang on and enjoy the ride."
Somewhere along the line, I joined Disney on the bench. Somewhere I decided that rides were for younger people and us, older, and more dignified, people sat on benches and watched. We write blogs about other people's accomplishments because we haven't got any of our own, or if we do, they are dignified and polished. We write about books we've read, or plays we've seen, placid vacation spots, or ideas that we've had. No one my age writes about the last time they jumped out of an airplane, or the list of women they've met while on safari in Africa. Why? Because these people, if they exist, are not on the bench with me. They are doing. I am watching.
I'm going to get a T-shirt that says, "God, thank you for giving me a swift kick in the a**!" I pray this morning that I want to start doing things, and the next thing you know, I realize that I'm sitting on the bench.
The bench is safe. The bench is warm. Its a cocoon. You don't have to face the real world here. You can comment on it. You can worry about it. But you don't have to do anything else about it. Being on the bench is a way of life. You can make plans about what you'd like to do - wouldn't it be great if there was a park for entire families to gather in - but until you get off that bench, those plans are just ideas.
I'm getting off the bench. See ya.
P.S. THE FIRST REVIEW IS IN!
"THE THIN LINE IS A PAGE TURNER! I COULDN'T PUT IT DOWN! I WAS READY TO SAY IT SUCKED, BUT INSTEAD, IT SUCKED ME IN!"
- Will's Mom
Hey, I don't make this stuff up. There are still two copies of the first 10 chapters waiting for readers. Join now and be the first on your block to say you read next year's Pulitzer Prize Winning Novel!
Thursday, July 06, 2006
The Price of Freedom
There's an e-mail making the rounds that's headline is something like Photos Too Graphic For The NY Times. It shows scenes from Baghdad that the NY Times allegedly refused to print - fluffy pictures of soldiers with Iraqi kids and puppies and peace signs and all that stuff. Really, as a piece of propoganda it was brilliant. As a focus on reality, however, don't make me gag.
I was in the military and I will not argue with the intent of the photos. Most people in the military fall into one of two categories - young kids who don't know any better (and there are a lot of them, myself included at the time) and down to earth died in the wool Americans. These people are the ones who are usually in charge. Despite what you see in the movies, they do not want to rush off to war. They do not want to kill everyone they see. The taste and smell of blood doesn't excite them. To them, they have a very important job to do, and they do it. They make the sacrifices that keep the world free.
I have no problem with these pictures. I believe that our soldiers are over there talking with kids and petting puppies and making peace and freedom available to anyone who wants it. But I also know that there is killing go on. Ours and theirs. Dead bodies everywhere. Don't let the fuzzy picture make you feel good. We're killing. They're killing. The streets are filled with blood. Fuzzy puppies and blood.
The latest insurgent tactic is to break into some Iraqi's home, point guns at a man's family, and force him to go out on the street with a cell phone and call them when a US convoy approaches. As soon as the call goes through, the insurgents set off the roadside bomb that kills the Americans and then flee. The other day a kid I know was told to take out a man with a cell phone. This innocent Iraqi was standing on the corner, his finger about to dial the connection that would get this convoy attacked. This kid had no other option but to unload on this poor man with the machine gun. The man didn't stand a chance. Later, after an exhaustive door to door search, they found the man's family - his wife and two kids lying in pools of blood, a neat bullet in each of their foreheads. This is the price of failure in Iraq. But it is also the price of success.
These images of carnage and human degeredation are nothing new. Whenever and wherever wars are fought, the stories are always the same. Clausewitz wisely said that War should be the Last Step in Diplomacy. No matter how much rah rah victory we see, no matter how much shock and awe, it ultimately boils down to men killing other men. Blood flows. People die. Young men are forever scarred, no matter who wins and who dies.
I understand the need for war. We must fight for the good of all, and occassionaly, when all else fails, that fight must be done with armed conflict. But before we are all so willing to send our men and women into these conflicts, before we are willing to sacrifice their blood for freedom, we should pause and remember what it is that we're doing. Children need people to teach them soccer. Puppies need petting. Peace signs need waving. But what is the cost? What is the price of freedom?
I was in the military and I will not argue with the intent of the photos. Most people in the military fall into one of two categories - young kids who don't know any better (and there are a lot of them, myself included at the time) and down to earth died in the wool Americans. These people are the ones who are usually in charge. Despite what you see in the movies, they do not want to rush off to war. They do not want to kill everyone they see. The taste and smell of blood doesn't excite them. To them, they have a very important job to do, and they do it. They make the sacrifices that keep the world free.
I have no problem with these pictures. I believe that our soldiers are over there talking with kids and petting puppies and making peace and freedom available to anyone who wants it. But I also know that there is killing go on. Ours and theirs. Dead bodies everywhere. Don't let the fuzzy picture make you feel good. We're killing. They're killing. The streets are filled with blood. Fuzzy puppies and blood.
The latest insurgent tactic is to break into some Iraqi's home, point guns at a man's family, and force him to go out on the street with a cell phone and call them when a US convoy approaches. As soon as the call goes through, the insurgents set off the roadside bomb that kills the Americans and then flee. The other day a kid I know was told to take out a man with a cell phone. This innocent Iraqi was standing on the corner, his finger about to dial the connection that would get this convoy attacked. This kid had no other option but to unload on this poor man with the machine gun. The man didn't stand a chance. Later, after an exhaustive door to door search, they found the man's family - his wife and two kids lying in pools of blood, a neat bullet in each of their foreheads. This is the price of failure in Iraq. But it is also the price of success.
These images of carnage and human degeredation are nothing new. Whenever and wherever wars are fought, the stories are always the same. Clausewitz wisely said that War should be the Last Step in Diplomacy. No matter how much rah rah victory we see, no matter how much shock and awe, it ultimately boils down to men killing other men. Blood flows. People die. Young men are forever scarred, no matter who wins and who dies.
I understand the need for war. We must fight for the good of all, and occassionaly, when all else fails, that fight must be done with armed conflict. But before we are all so willing to send our men and women into these conflicts, before we are willing to sacrifice their blood for freedom, we should pause and remember what it is that we're doing. Children need people to teach them soccer. Puppies need petting. Peace signs need waving. But what is the cost? What is the price of freedom?
Monday, July 03, 2006
How long to sing this song?
Sing with me now...
In Korea and America there's a growing feeling of hysteria
Conditioned to respond to all the threats
In the rhetorical speeches of the North Koreans
Mister Kim Il Dong said, 'We will bury you'
I don't subscribe to this point of view
It'd be such an ignorant thing to do
If the North Koreans love their children too
How can I save my little boy
From Oppenheimer's deadly toy?
There is no monopoly on common sense
On either side of the political fence
We share the same biology
Regardless of ideology
Believe me when I say to you
I hope the North Koreans love their children too
There is no historical precedent to put
the Words in the mouth of the president
There's no such thing as a winnable war
It's a lie we don't believe anymore
Mister Double U says 'We will protect you'
I don't subscribe to this point of view
Believe me when I say to you
I hope the North Koreans love their children too
We share the same biology
Regardless of ideology
What might save us, me and you
Is if the North Koreans love their children too
Written by Sting [& Sergei Prokofiev!] with modification by me.
In Korea and America there's a growing feeling of hysteria
Conditioned to respond to all the threats
In the rhetorical speeches of the North Koreans
Mister Kim Il Dong said, 'We will bury you'
I don't subscribe to this point of view
It'd be such an ignorant thing to do
If the North Koreans love their children too
How can I save my little boy
From Oppenheimer's deadly toy?
There is no monopoly on common sense
On either side of the political fence
We share the same biology
Regardless of ideology
Believe me when I say to you
I hope the North Koreans love their children too
There is no historical precedent to put
the Words in the mouth of the president
There's no such thing as a winnable war
It's a lie we don't believe anymore
Mister Double U says 'We will protect you'
I don't subscribe to this point of view
Believe me when I say to you
I hope the North Koreans love their children too
We share the same biology
Regardless of ideology
What might save us, me and you
Is if the North Koreans love their children too
Written by Sting [& Sergei Prokofiev!] with modification by me.
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