3 for Sunday: Persistence Pays

6:18 AM

An Ordinary Regular Person can be downright persistent sometimes. When she wants to be, I mean.

Like inviting me to church ("Just go one time") and again the the next week Just go one time and again for several months afterward Just go one time! ... until I finally agreed and said Yes.

Man. The way some people can be when it comes to doing things they think are important.
---

Friday night I had dinner downstairs at the marina restaurant while waiting for B's band to play at a wedding rehearsal upstairs. That's how I ran into Ashley, the server, after she'd gone MIA during finals last semester. We'd been out of touch for almost a month so she sat down for a minute while we got caught up.

I've known Ashley for a while and the time finally seemed right to invite her (and her trainee) to church: "Just go one time."

Then out of the corner of my eye I saw a group of five or six people walk behind me as they left their table. A man clasped me on the shoulder and said, "Hey New Spring!" Ashley asked if I knew who he was.

I've got no idea ... at least I didn't get enough of a glimpse to recognize his face.

Later I walked out without remembering to pay the check, so Ashley came upstairs to find me. And there I was sitting with Brigette and her fiance at their table ... like a circle, because B had invited me and then I'd invited Ashley (who said no without saying no) ... or maybe B is a better, more persistent and less likely to be discouraged inviter than me.

The next day, Saturday, around noon I ran into Ashley again at the gas pump. This time she was in a swimsuit and helped empty Calypso's holding tank (now that's a real friend) after scrambling over the decks with a fuel hose.

She pointed to Calypso's side window and grinned, "You've got the sticker."

I nodded Yes, "It helps keep me straight."

Anybody who helps empty my holding tank is gonna keep getting asked ... for as long as it takes: Just go one time.
---

A little bit about my friend Dr. Mac. Mac does surgical stuff with lasers and specializes in chronic pain management. I met Mac several years ago, not long after I succumbed to ORP's persistent invitation to "Just go one time" and saw my life turned upside around.

Mac's got a Biology degree from Yale, an MD from Tufts and could probably convince Darwin himself that evolution is a crock. He urged me to read The Case for Christ, to see The Passion of the Christ and prayed with me on the parking lot at the Pickens County shooting range. Mac's not shy about sharing his faith.

The timing that came 3 years ago with the opportunity to meet and grow a friendship with a strong man of faith like Mac couldn't have possibly been better.

Last night Mac and his wife had me over to their home for dinner. Mac's already been to Nigeria and asked about Tanzania ... particularly about the availability (or, the non-availability) of basic health care. And what could be done about it.

By the end of our conversation Dr. Mac told me he wants to take a year off and move to practice medicine in Tanzania. Mac asked my impressions, wanted to know what I thought of the idea and whether his plan would work. I didn't have to think too hard of an answer.

Just go one time.

Four simple words worth sharing ... as often as you can.

for a bright light shining over the horizon

"Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, only a signal shown, and a distant voice in the darkness; So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another, only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence."
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

An Engineer's Answer to A Very Old Question

Q. Is the glass half empty or hall full?

A. The glass is too small.

A Critical Self Evaluation

A DC/AC inverter is an electronic device that "boosts" 12 volts (like your car) up to 110 volts (like you use at home). Of course, you need lots (I mean LOTS) of batteries to make enough power to run, say, a water heater or air conditioner.

Like, enough to literally melt an industrial-sized wrench in a micro-second if it fell across the battery terminals.

All the BIG house boats have BIG inverters to run stuff like TVs, stereos and blenders. What baffles me is that nobody bothers fusing the circuit: if a short circuit happened you'd see battery cables become swinging arc welders capable of burning through the bottom of a boat hull like warm Jello.

I don't understand why nobody fuses their inverter circuit. Nobody.

As you've probably already guessed, I've got the biggest inverter of all. Other inverters overload and run home with their battery lugs between their legs once they've seen mine. Even Mike says nobody needs that much power ... and walks away whispering under his breath.

My inverter makes batteries dance and skip inside their wiring harnesses. My inverter's so big it makes AVCLUB shudder (and that's saying a lot). Calypso is practically its own Van de Graaff generator (and I need that, believe me). My inverter is THE MAN of all inverters.

SO NATURALLY I've got my inverter circuit fused, right?

Oh heck no.

Because Nobody fuses their inverter circuit. Right?

Farewell, at last

Well, the house sold and the familiar background set was no longer available ... so it seemed a good time to put the poor fellow to bed back in March by taping The Last Reverend Joe Dale.

Different than a Playlist

Had an idea this morning about doing an alternative to the conventional mp3 Blue Book Playlist.

Here's Sunrise at the Marina ... wish you'd been there to see it.

I remember the time when ...

We were flying on a commercial jet liner into Greenville-Spartanburg at the edge of a particularly violent nighttime thunderstorm. The pilot missed the instrument approach and executed a go-around for a second attempt at landing ... otherwise we'd be forced to divert to and spend the night in Charlotte.

I immediately recognized what was happening and summoned a flight attendant. "Look," I told her urgently. "I fly around here all the time and know this airspace like it's the back of my hand. Now you go to the cockpit and let the captain know I'm a private pilot who's willing to help out so we can get back down on the ground safely and on time. And for pete's sake turn on the Fasten Seatbelts sign 'cause I'm ready to rock n' roll and get real randy with this big hoss."
--

Then there was the time I was in the doctor's office, half-dressed in a half-gown while he reviewed a series of particularly problematic series of X-rays. He shook his head and told me, "I'm calling CDC in Atlanta because I'm way in over my head here."

I jumped up from the table (revealing my indignation) and snatched the X-rays from his hand. "It's not Malaria, West Nile Virus or Dengue Fever. I recognize all my symptoms because I've been online at a popular healthcare website, which means I know what I'm doing. Now order me up some blood work, start some fresh coffee and tell the nurse I said to make it Stat!" (Or did I mean Pronto?)
--

Neither incident really happened, obviously. In reality I kept my mouth shut, prayed both times, and let the guys who knew more than me land the airplane ... and make the correct medical diagnosis (notice I'm still here).


Which might help explain why trying real hard not to second-guess the Creator, who's in constant control and knows all things, ain't such a bad idea. Especially when you can't see the runway and don't know an X-ray image from a post card.

I deserve better than this

No, actually you don't.

Finally ... the cure

6:44am
N 31 29.047’
W 082 49.238’

Imagine that you’re a research scientist employed at the Learning Life Laboratory of a prestigious medical university. You have just one assignment, and only one goal: find a cure for cancer.

Although hundreds of thousands of scientists across the globe are trying to achieve the same thing and may have better educations, more experience and better resources than you, there’s one little difference setting you apart.

You’ve known your entire life that you’ve got cancer. You just don’t know exactly when … and the nature of your particular affliction means today might be your last day on earth. There’s simply no way of knowing.

Because of your familiarity with the disease you live with the agonizing fear that ultimately, unless something radical happens, one day you’ll draw your last breath knowing your life’s been wasted. And that all your efforts and ambitions had been in vain.

There’s only one prognosis for your condition, and the outcome has never been in doubt.

Then one night you’re alone, working late at home and feeling way overwhelmed with your situation. You’re struggling, too tired to keep up with the newest trends and suddenly remember the life and work of a mysterious foreign doctor who lived in another century.

You’re familiar with his words and many of the books written about him, but what you’ve previously read seemed out of date and totally inapplicable to modern methods and techniques. Your associates unanimously feel he was a quack and have summarily dismissed him, largely because he claimed he alone had the cure for all forms of cancer.

You’ve ignored him before because his cure is so simple it can’t possibly be true. Modern science insists there simply must be something else. Something complicated and impossible to produce in large quantities.

But tonight his words make sense and take on new meaning. The longer you look the more his words come to life, as though he’s speaking from the pages directly to you. Until finally you realize his cure is real … and actually works once it’s applied according to his instructions.

Oh wow, the cure is really real … and it’s permanent.

What would you do then? Would you go back to work Monday morning and announce your findings to your peers, or keep quiet and pretend to keep looking for another cure … from fear of being ostracized and ridiculed?

Your life had been spared after all; that’s what matters most … so maybe the smart thing to do would be to keep the cure to yourself and go on about your business- pursuing all the goals, pleasures and achievements in life that were important to you.

Or maybe you’d become arrogant (claiming you’d done all the work) and build your own clinic, with your name in proud letters over the door, giving preference and titles to wealthy contributors … so you could carefully manage and dictate who’s allowed inside to be cured?

Would you want to see everybody’s suffering ended, or just the people who looked, dressed and thought the same as you? Would you decide who’s deserving to learn about the cure, forgetting to mention and give credit to the man who was the original source … to make it easier to serve your own interests and ambitions instead?

Heck, you might even start thinking about using the cure to get rich (and attract new sexual partners) … and not worry too much that you're benefiting yourself at others’ expense.

Would you teach others that the cure was conditional and might be revoked at any time … hinting that you alone knew all the cure’s rules and conditions?

Or would you be so grateful and humbled with joy because your life was changed that you could hardly sleep for wanting to share the cure with sick people all over the world … no matter that they looked, talked and dressed differently than you?

Oh yeah, there’s one more thing you found in your research. The foreign man who lived 20 centuries ago, known as The Great Physician, also opened the way to eternal life … and he left amazingly clear instructions, not suggestions, about sharing everything he gave us.

How about a word from an Ordinary Regular Person?

Terrific post today over at Dysfunction Junction.

What's WRONG with you guys?!

Jamie drove us to Calypso Saturday night after dinner to watch a movie. I got the front seat so when Emilay headed for the rear door I opened it for her.

She froze, looked up at me and said, "I've never had a guy do that before." I bristled and said, "If a man won't open your car door then stand there and wait until he does."

Emilay shrugged, "I've never been on a date with a man. I've only been out with boys."

Exactly right. She's two weeks away from turning 16 but Emilay's point was right on the money. Only boys don't know to open a door for a lady.
---

Call me weird or whatever but if my daughter was about to leave home on a date and I saw her reaching to open her own car door, I'm afraid I'd become spectacularly aerodynamic and launch for his car at Mach speed.

Because her date just showed me he's clueless about how I'd expect my daughter to be treated. He'd also have shown me there's at least one minor flaw in his upbringing ... and I don't want my daughter around him long enough to find out about his majors.

Ignorance when it comes to knowing how to treat a lady is no excuse. It should be common sense to be concerned and take care of everything that's important to you.

Even a buzzard knows better than to poop in its own nest.
---

I'm a guy, it's my blog and ultimately I'm accountable for what goes here. Which means I'm free to say things your dad might find uncomfortable or embarrassing.

Things I'd Want My Daughter (if I had one) to Know About Boys, Men and All Life Forms In-between:

-If he doesn't know how to treat you when it comes to small things like opening a car door, he won't know how to treat you when big things come rolling around either. So don't act surprised when it happens.

-A guy who asks you to pay for part of your date (or worse, asks you to lend him money) does so because he's already spent his money on something he wants for himself. Which indicates your position on his emotional totem pole.

-A guy who uses a credit card on a date (or uses one to buy you a gift) is letting you know right away he's a LOSER ... and can't afford spending time with you.

-A guy who leaves his cell on during a date is telling you he's leaving the door open for something really important and more interesting than you to step into his life. Like, someone worth being with and turning his phone off for.

-Lies are like roaches. For every one you find, there's 50 more that only come out when it's dark.

-You may think you can, but you'll never have the tools necessary to fix the things you see wrong with a guy. Men are incapable of being trained and unless there's divine intervention, his attitude and behavior is preprogrammed to accelerate from Bad to Worse. He'll actually think he's "just being a guy" and likes what he's doing at the time. Trust me.

-Any guy who will intentionally hurt a woman, whether physically or emotionally, needs to be crated up and shipped back to his parents for Remedial Potty Training ... because I don't want him leaving his messes in my daughter's life.

-In general, men tend to lie for the sake of expediency while women lie to spare someone's feelings. But when lying becomes an easy habit and a man starts lying to spare someone's feelings (or a woman starts lying for expediency) then that marriage, relationship or whatever has passed a critical Point of No Return because it's impossible to communicate with a partner who thinks they've discovered something slicker than the truth.

-Even the smallest lie or deception is a mile marker on the road to unfaithfulness and adultery.

-A guy who gets high or drunk while he's with you is actually saying Man, you're boring as dirt to be around.

-A guy who'd suggest to a girl that they watch porn together is emotionally incapable of both monogamy and commitment. Period, no discussion. No matter what Dr. Ruth says.

-Left to themselves, 99% of men would try to have sex with a rock pile if they thought a snake might be hiding somewhere inside. If he seems pitiful and can't control himself with you, or blames "weakness" for "the moment," ever wondered in what other areas and moments he's lacking self control? Like when he's drunk & pilfering your purse for money, and finds your best friend's number instead?

-Any guy who can't keep his hands off you (or who wants you putting your hands on him) behaves exactly the same way with whoever he goes out with. He's also demonstrating he's got a short attention span and thinks Wow, you're Boring ... unless you're getting naked and busy satisfying his sexual needs.

-Never never never start dating any guy who's less in love with Christ than you are. Never ever and don't even try to pretend.

Reunion followup

During my lifetime I've probably spent more time sneezing than thinking about having kids.

Then late last year, during dinner with Jake, Sz and their kids Sz asked me "Have you ever known a woman you'd want to have children with?"

I said No, but after a couple of minutes of re-thinking I admitted my knee jerk reaction had come too quickly ... and started a turn that's still becoming a 360.
-----

Funny, isn't it? Saturday I drove to Hartwell wishing she was going there with me ... and that night had to settle for a txt message instead.

It's hard accepting that our lofty plans and ambitions are useless, ultimately only get in God's way and confound us.
----

I saw my brother and his wife at this weekend's family reunion. They have the two most beautiful, adorable children I've ever seen. It's true- no matter that it's my niece and nephew ... in no small part because my brother and his wife both love their children so much they've got patience that would make Job weep and start hunting the sack cloth.
----

Driving home yesterday afternoon it hurt me incredibly to acknowledge a lifetime of selfishness, and see there's been no excuse or reason.

Turns out it's not all about me after all. I wish I was totally convicted and absolutely fearless every day, every way. But not yet I'm not.

So build a shell, crawl inside and pull the covers up tight all around if U want 2 ... and then wonder why it feels so suffocating and claustrophobic inside.

A Genius Plan

Read Fran's Friday perspective here. Then put a lock on your wallet & point your mouse here.

GREAT WEEKEND Recap - corrected (like, ooops)

Lunch & Walmarting with Fran, family reunion, dinner & movie with J, E & H, Adam H telling me all about L's wedding ... and P had hammers in both hands at the 9:15 nailing down popular misconceptions on what prayer's all about. Then my folks dropped by the marina and saw Calypso for the first time.

(Seems like my mom said, "Well, it's got more room than it looks.")

Wanna just relax tonight before we start hitting it again real hard tomorrow morning?

Ok, I found one of my favorite songs at Youtube. I know it's not P&W or any type of gospel music (think about this and of course Paul said it best) so I hope you'll overlook my confusing clumsiness ... but give a listen or three.

Glad you dropped by, and thank you for the time you spend here. It means a lot.

You supply the caption?

Me: Did I just hear Ken say, "... take you Paul, to be my wife?"

Fran: Yaaaa, me too.

Life's little ironies

Awesome time yesterday at the family reunion over in Hartwell (more later) ... but around 4 AM this morning as I lurched up in bed reaching for the door handle, an odd thought struck me:

Isn't it odd that I can spend 6 weeks in Africa consuming all sorts of uncooked fruits, raw vegetables, under-cooked and unnamed meats (including the odd flying insect or two) with only the slightest digestive complaint, but get then laid low from a covered-dish reunion lunch?

(Musta been the potato salad ... and probably store-bought at that.)

"I Only Get Cramps When I Laugh" Pepto-Playlist:
Running Down A Dream - Tom Petty

PS.
Dinner last night with Jamie, Emilay and Heather (friends from NS) included Seaweed Salad and both Geisha & Cucumber sushi rolls.

Hmmm, whaddya think?

I Have Faith in Humanity and my Fellow Man

That's what you sometimes hear immediately following some one's reasons for dismissing God's existence ... buttressed with the supporting arguments that religion is man-made, a superstitious invention that's responsible not just for prejudice and intolerance between different faiths ... but also responsible for the deaths of more people than the casualties of all wars combined.

"If we learned to love each other and didn't have religion to divide us, people all over the globe could put their differences aside and focus on peace, understanding and the brotherhood of all mankind. We don't need an imaginary man in the clouds telling us how to live and behave toward one another."

Now I've got a bad case of the heebie jeebies, because unless your definition of humanity is more exclusive than mine, "Humanity" includes the likes of Genghis Khan, Napoleon, Hitler and Pol Pot. And we won't even get started on the Romans' Saturday matinee fare at the Coliseum or discuss Charles Manson, Pee Wee Gaskins, David Berkowitz or Jeffrey Dahmer.

See they're part of Humanity, too ... though Jack the Ripper might've needed some powerful convincing (or at least strong encouragement) to "get out of linear thinking and into the abundant universe."

Do the New Agers really expect me to join the global consciousness? Heck, I can't even scratch my own back, cut my own hair, tie my shoes with one hand ... or even pick up shampoo without buying a bottle of conditioner by mistake. Yet somehow my individual role is essential for "visualizing world peace"?

Dude, Visualize Getting a Grip instead.

That's why I've got a hard time believing that left to itself and given another four or five thousand years on the job, Mankind might get its act together and finally create the Paradise on Earth that New Agers and Humanists promise "is part of our enlightened potential."

Somehow it's easier believing in Start Trek re-runs instead.

Hmmm. Guess that make me part of the problem instead of part of the solution.

An Afternoon Saving with Fran

Fran called this morning to see if we could have lunch … which was easily arranged, since Friday was already scheduled to be a “half day” working with Mike.

After lunch we walked down the Pendleton Square looking for a gift for her boss, next hitting the new Walmart in Clemson picking up odds and ends. We also spent 20 minutes struggling- trying to open cologne boxes to “try before you buy.”

Why mention this here? Because when we finally got to the checkout line we started unloading our selections … to put back on the shelf.

I decided I didn’t need new jeans. Fran decided she didn’t need new sandals or beach towels. Then the challenge was on to scrape our cart down the minimum … and we walked out grinning ear-to-ear all the way to her car.

We’d saved, between our two non-purchases, enough bucks to buy dinner for two at The Galley. Not bad … or, could choose to save it instead .

I told Fran “Joe Sangl would be so proud.”

Saving money, postponing purchases & putting stuff back on the shelf is addictive … once you’ve got the will to try it.

PS. Time spent with a good friend is more valuable than cash.

Now I'm On

Guess what. A guy on a houseboat a few slips down from me just got web access, and graciously shared his WEP key with me.

What does that mean?

It means I can go online now 24x7. It means I don't have to fuss with writing posts in Word, and then wandering around the parking lot like The Flying Dutchman searching for a useable wireless signal. It means I no longer have to copy and re-format the post in Blogger before it's uploaded.

Oh, happy day indeed.

Let's Get Out The Vote!

8:45 AM

I’m sure you’ve noticed how some believers enjoy discovering there’s a Rottweiler asleep under their neighbor’s porch, and then administering a good swift kick or two to the poor animal’s ribs. Could be they think kicking sleeping dogs is good fun … (and it might also subtlety remind the neighbor who’s in charge).

Dog-kickers seem not to ever learn (a) Rottweiler’s have teeth, and relish in the sensation of squeezing live flesh between them; (b) kicking a neighbor’s dog shows disrespect to your neighbor; and (c) the old adage about leaving sleeping dogs lie makes often makes perfectly good sense.

So let’s talk politics.

Should a believer support a Democrat or a Republican nominee for president? How should a believer feel about health care or raising the minimum wage? What about immigration, gun control, lowering capital gain taxes and tighter restrictions on carbon monoxide emissions?

Might help if a nation-wide committee representing every Christian denomination in the country could be assembled for a convention, spent all the time they needed hashing through all the details, and published a comprehensive doctrine on The Approved Way for Believers to Vote Politically. Then we’d have all the answers and would know exactly how to think about the issues. We could even carry The Approved Way to Vote with us to the polls (unless the committee determined Real Believers shouldn’t vote in the first place).

Or, what if we spent less time arguing over issues, and spent our time praying for discernment, listening to the Holy Spirit, remembered that God is in control and shared the gospel with non-believers instead?

The African Orphaned and Abandoned Children's Fund LLC is:

here.

Don't tell me how to run my life

"I don't need anybody telling me how to run my life."

Funny, ain't it, how all you gotta do is add "I" to Run and it immediately turns into Ruin.

It comes down to this

"And if Christ has not been raised, then all our preaching is useless, and your faith is useless."
- 1 Corinthians 15:14

Too Much Like Christ

It’s surprising what you don’t hear when women mention problems with their boyfriends/fiancés/husbands.

He may drink too much, gamble, have a porn addiction, spend too much time with his friends of in front of the TV, have all the sensitivity of a marine technician’s assistant, ignore the kids, have better communication skills with the family dog than to unknowingly embarrass her in front of her family and friends … but you’ll never once hear a woman complain, “The man in my life is too much like Jesus.”

Guys … can we have a word?

You’re supposed to be the leader- and if she’s miserable and been “making” you unhappy, then whose example has she been following? Who’s she been reacting to? Who?

Like duh, dude. Women might be attracted to the bad boy on the outside, but only tolerate him until they see whether there’s a man alive on the inside.

Sound simplistic? No. Fundamentally simple, yes. Love her like you’re meant to.

Love her the way God intended- without finding fault or holding grudges. Be The Man ... and never don’t ever let her go.

“I Never Liked This Song Until I Saw It” Playlist:

Try A Little Tenderness – Otis Redding {Monterey Pops}

Hannah's Hope

“When the poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue faileth for thirst, I the Lord will hear them. I the God of Israel will not forsake them. I will open rivers in high places, and fountains in the midst of valleys. I will make the wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land springs of water.” Isaiah 41:17,18

Read more about the need here.

Blush

My new friend Mandie asked to use one of my photos on her cpg photo page over at myspace (the one with Calypso's wheel in the sun). Thanks M!

Help, I’m Stuck in a Relationship! - up"dated"

7:29 PM

You already know how I feel about dating and relationships.

Some girl (or guy, if you’re a gal) catches your eye, your heart flutters, you start flirting and soon imagine a picture perfect future together … and two weeks later find yourself bored … trapped in a relationship desperately waiting for something better to come along.

Dude and Dudette, you can’t take a swing at every ball that pitches near the plate. You gotta know what you want before you suit up, walk on the field and pick up a bat.

If you’ve had your share then you already know that by definition, “Relationship” implies a state of being related to something else. As in, “Our future is relative, because sometimes I relate to him/her more than he/she relates to me.

“See, last month she had wandering eyes and got distracted by some guy she met at work. But until then I was in love with her more than I could stand it and thought this was The Real Thing. Now I just want out … and look forward to falling in love and being with somebody else.”

Everything in a relationship is relative … because it means both parties are only relating to each other until something better comes along.

“Romantic relationship” starts sounding a lot like“easy dieting,” “jumbo shrimp” and “pleasure boating.”

Marriage is between equal partners; relationships tend to be unequal. So much for romantic relationships.

Because no one but Jesus has ever been raised from the dead, Christianity is not about religion; it’s about our relationship with the living Christ.

You and I will never, not ever, be equal to Christ. (Heck, you and I woulda bailed outta town soon as we saw the torches and swords start marching up the hill toward Gethsemane. Jesus knew what was coming, and stayed there waiting in our place.)

Christ knew us before we were born, before the first time we sinned, and as believers he still loves us knowing that we’ll sin again in the future. He hates what we do … but his love is perfect and means he’ll never let go, change his mind or start looking for something better. Not ever.

Our relationship with Christ will always be unequal because our eyes wander, but his love never changes. Christ proved his love with his sacrifice- by conquering the grave after dying for us on the cross so that we could have eternal life- yet he asks for nothing more than that we place our faith in him.

He asks so little in return, yet we so often we forget who paid our debt in full.

Hard to figure now how we can feel trapped, become bored or get distracted from the only perfect relationship we’ll ever know. Because nothing better is ever gonna come along. Never.

Not even if we wait for eternity.

Here Comes Johnny Law

7:50 AM

What’s wrong with rules? Just two things: they tend to be man-made, and they're admired most by their inventors.

Let’s say Johnny is a marine technician, and Bill is his assistant. Johnny’s customer needs a new 12-volt bilge pump added to his boat, and Johnny assigns the task to Bill.

To comply with wiring codes (and reduce the likelihood of inconvenient on-board fires and explosions), the new circuit must be fused no more than 6 inches from the positive battery terminal.

Johnny’s method is to run his wiring from the battery to the pump, while Bill prefers running his wiring from the pump back to the battery. To Johnny’s way of thinking Bill’s method makes no sense, because for whatever reason, it’s easier for Johnny to keep track of what he’s doing by going in a rear-to-front direction.

(If Johnny was an arrogant ogre, determined to do everything his way, he’d add even more rules to remind Bill who’s in charge and make himself feel important. Johnny-made rules like,

NO WEARING JEANS TO WORK

ONLY APPROVED BRANDS OF TOOLS ARE ALLOWED IN THE TOOL BOX

NO ROCK MUSIC DURING WORK HOURS

DON’T ASSOCIATE WITH PEOPLE WHO AREN’T OUR CUSTOMERS)

Both wiring methods work just the same; there’s absolutely no difference except personal preference. But since Johnny’s in charge he gets to make the rules, and Johnny’s rule is Run New Wiring from Back to Front, that’s the way he expects things to be done.

But Johnny’s rule is not the law because both Johnny and Bill’s methods comply with the law - by installing a fuse in the required location.

Tacking on rituals and mad-made traditions like “Only Wire from Back to Front” distracts from what’s critically important: the circuit’s gotta be fused to keep an electrical fire from melting the boat.

Besides, remembering and observing all the rules results in an exasperating round of hair-pulling … and draws us away from realizing why the law exists in the first place.

10 Things I Hate About You

1. You lie. Lying is your nature
2. You deceived me, knowing the place I'm most vulnerable
3. I wasted money on things that made you happy
4. You made sex sound like cheap, easy fun
5. You took my attention and focused it on yourself
6. You promised so much more than you could deliver
7. You made me feel important and powerful
8. You changed what I wanted in life
9. You made want me want the same things as you
10. With you, I felt there were no limits to what I could do

Your name is Satan, and you are the enemy.

I could never be part of a mega-church

I’ve heard that a lot, and the point “seems” valid on its face.

A “big church” with thousands of members implies an anonymous indifference at the core of what’s supposed to be a profoundly spiritual and personal experience.

Like, “Does my involvement matter?” and “Where do I fit in?” or "Will the pastor himself preach at my funeral?"

But then …

-The guy I work for has three sons. Two go to NS
-Three couples on the dock where I live go to NS
-One of the “dock boys” I run into every day goes to NS
-Another of the dock boys has a girlfriend who goes to NS

In other words, I run into folks from my “mega-church” 24x7. Members of my church seem to pop up when and where I least expect them. So maybe there’s another reason why some people think they couldn’t belong to a “mega-church.”

Might be called accountability, and never knowing who you’ll run into. Maybe in places where you feel the “safest” and farthest from church … in the places you’d least expect to see a familiar face. In places where sin might seem to count the least.

Uh oh. Just saying.

It’s not your PP (personal/private) experiences that matters, so it’s silly trying to balance your side of the equation by playing deal-maker with God. Or in trying to negotiate or dictate what makes you feel safe, familiar, happy and self-righteous on Sunday mornings.

Besides, there’s a big difference between being A-part and being In-volved.

“Long Time No Playlist; Cat Got the Playlist?” Playlist:
Mighty to Save
Made to Worship

If it was left up to me ...

Thursday

8:05 AM

Halfway through my third month of working with Mike (The Asphalt Mariner), I’m starting to get a pretty clear picture of, if things were left up to me, what I’d never do if I had the choice.

I’d never work on outboard engines.

They’re filthy, noisy, stink, and awkward to reach because owners refuse to move their boats from the water to have the engines serviced or repaired.

Which means the boat is constantly moving, bobbing up and tossing tools, parts and service personnel over the side. I hate outboards. Yeah, I do.

I’d never work on stern drives (inboard/outboards), either.

They’re like outboards but even nastier, because the transmission and stuff is hanging out over the transom. Stern drives are heavy, awkward to move and it takes five sets of hands to align the drive splines. Plus they’re crusty with algae … and they smell bad.

I wouldn’t work on inboards.

Even though everything is contained inside the boat, that means it’s cramped and there’s no room left to work. (I’ve serviced and replaced parts I’ve never seen … just by feel).

Plus, I don’t know very much about outboards, stern drives, or inboards. So there.

But then I wouldn’t do plumbing, either.

Plumbing means crawling through spaces that wouldn’t accommodate a football and then drilling holes through the hull to install fittings. Outside the hull is lots-n-lots o-water. Water can get into a boat faster than I can get out of a boat. Therefore I hate plumbing, and refuse to talk about it any more.

Brigette once suggested it might make an informative post here at The Blue Book to explain exactly where it goes when you go on a boat. And did I mention plumbing smells bad?

I’d never fiberglass anything … and you can’t make me.

Fiberglass sounds like fun. Fiberglass means building new parts and stuff from nothing. Fiberglass only sounds exciting to people who’ve never spent a day looking like a bunny rabbit with white fiberglass hairs glued to their skin.

The reality: fiberglass is itchy like an ant bed and the strands can’t wait to break off under your skin. They wake up around 3:00 am and start itching even more.

If the Inquisition had known about fiberglass they would’ve told heretics to “fiberglass that hatch” and then laughed themselves silly. And fiberglass resin smells bad.

Electric work? You must be kidding. I’m shocked. Everytime.

Let’s move on quickly.

Carpentry sounds safe

Forget about it. I’m absolutely lousy and have no talent for working with sharp edges spinning at high speeds. (Figures.)

Nor would I bother with painting, buffing or polishing boats … because all those things are mind-numbingly tedious and boring.

Hmmm. Much is becoming clear at this point.

If business was left up to me there’s not a whole lot that would get ever get done because I don’t like doing any of it.

Could be that’s why what I do with my days ain’t left up to me.

What I do is left up to the boss. And I realize how little he’s concerned with what I like, what I’d rather be doing, how tired I feel or what I’d rather skip over because such and such makes me feel ill-equipped, unprepared or uncomfortable.

And what do you think his reaction is when I feel like taking time off and spending the day relaxing, focusing on what I’d rather be doing instead?

The only thng wrong with our church is the pastor

6:42 AM

Been noticing recently how eagerly believers from other churches are willing to take a total stranger into confidence, and share exactly what’s wrong with their church.

The central theme is almost always the same: “I don’t know what happened, but we’re not going any where. I think it’s time for a change.”

Members have divided into factions, fuming and taking sides against each other over petty, insignificant issues (egos certainly involved), often with the pastor in the middle. And in trying to be the mediator, or even worse, in trying to push forward his own vision, the pastor winds up a casualty of the congregational crossfire.

The church has become restless, irritable with itself, and senses a need for a renewed focus and purpose because “The pastor’s sputtering” and “We need a new direction.”

When there’s not much interest shown in pursing the subject, the conversation typically ends with a shrug and a hopeful glean in the eye, “I think we need some new blood in the pulpit.”

Yikes. What’re we talking about, vampires? The living dead? If I’d been listening to problems describing a boat, it’d sound a lot like:

(a) deferred maintenance, abuse and neglect has caused friction to burn up the engine
(b) in blindly steering its own course, the boat has hit bottom and lost its rudder. (“Oh no, we have a Steering Committee to handle that …”)
(c) instructions included with the owner’s manual are being ignored
(d) the engine is sputtering because the tank is low on gas … and engines can’t run on fumes … or on hot air

What do I know about these things? Nothing. I have zero experience, my theology degree got lost in the mail, I’ve never been a deacon or studied human resource management … or much less served on a church committee. And I have all the “people skills” of a sunburned hyena.

Vision? Heck, I see disaster lurking in shadows at high noon and feel certain “thar be monsters” waiting at every horizon. Nonetheless, the causes of some problems seem so clear they’re practically transparent. Maybe that’s why they’re easy to overlook.

- A church can only have one leader, one direction and one focus
- God knows how to use a member’s talents more effectively than he/she does
- Gossip isn’t a talent. It’s a sin
- Personal opinions have zero intrinsic value. That’s why they seldom generate much interest … and are better saved and invested than traded or shared
- A church is not a drive-thru restaurant or a pizza joint … you can’t “have it your way” or expect delivery to your doorstep in 30 minutes or less
- Democracy might work in politics, but fails miserably from the pulpit
- -Pointing the finger at a pastor as the cause of a church’s problems ignores the fingers pointing back at the congregation
- Not one person in your church- not the most senior deacon, not the wealthiest member, not the chairman of the most powerful committee and not the family with the longest or most regular attendance- earned their salvation or ever did a single thing to deserve it. So don’t act like you did
- Congregations with energy enough to complain are ignoring God’s plan and leaving critical elements of their mission left undone
- It’s not your church … so stop complaining, and start committing
- You won’t have any say-so about how things are done in Heaven. Might wanna start getting used to it.

Or are you planning on “finding some new blood” and “straightening things out” when you get there?

Engine Out

Solving Your Plastic Pecuniary Polluter

Check this out. Try it, you won't believe how good it feels.

ps. Honesty is 24x7 and courage is 365. Now let's see what you got ... and remember the Papa loves ya!

High Anxiety

7:47 AM

Correction: apparently Boat Church starts next Sunday, in time for Memorial Day

When I was growing up the city swimming pool was a short bike ride from our house. Built in a neo-Moroccan style in the late 1920s, a wall divided the public facility into two separate areas: a shallow, boring pool for children and a much larger (and deeper) side for adults.

The shallow pool didn’t have diving boards; the deep end had two.

The low board was just that … so low it seemed to skim the water’s surface. But the high board was something else.

From my 7-year old eyes the rung ladder leading to the diving platform loomed like a rocket gantry rising from the pool deck, and the big kids tackling the high board seemed as brave as astronauts as they voluntarily climbed the ladder toward the clouds.

More than a few kids got to the top of the ladder, walked to the end of the board, peered down and had a good look at what was waiting, and unceremoniously climbed back down in disgrace.

Any thought of stepping out over that lofty, invisible edge into the unknown was scary, but I started wonderng what it might feel like. I figured the experience would be either utterly terrifying … or the one of most exhilarating sensations of freedom imaginable.

Then by the end of the summer, with the pool about to close for the season, my friends and I nervously accepted that the high board was beckoning.

I can still remember climbing the ladder, standing at the edge of the high board, looking down at the pool and thinking Wow, it’s a lot higher up here than it looks. I felt the first pangs of panic as I started reminded myself of everything that could possibly happen on the way down.

What if I jumped and missed the pool? What if the water suddenly drained out on the way down? What if my trunks flew off when I hit? What if something happened I hadn’t thought of … what would I do then?

“Just look,” my 7-year old sense of self-preservation scolded, “at what you’ve done and gotten yourself into this time.”

My internal warning lights flashed like my brain had been lit by an electric storm because I was finally confronting that one last step, and I was up there all alone about to find out firsthand What it’s gonna feel like to step out over the edge.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out … but the diving board was much too narrow and unsteady to even think about backing up or turning around.

So I ignored everything common sense and the little voice inside my head was screaming, and jumped. What happened next was totally unexpected.

I lost my fear of the high board. It was awesome! I couldn’t wait to climb up the ladder and go again, and realized what my own fear had prevented me from experiencing all summer.

The point is that none of the awful, nerve-wracking things I was afraid of happened when I stepped out over the edge.

-- -- --

We learn by making mistakes and try to avoid unpleasantness by fine-tuning our decisions based on past experiences. We remember what hurt and, consciously or not, steer our involvement away from people or situations that start igniting our warning lights.

Survival instinct tells us jumping off the high board is a bad, bad idea. Because we’re not sure of what could happen once we’ve let go of our control.

-We say we trust God’s plan, but keep a fall-back ready … in case things go wrong

-We say our eternal faith is in Christ, but depend on ourselves to live day by day

-We say God is perfect, but feel confident we’ll “Get it right this time”

-We believe Christ was resurrected, but continue living our lives as though we’ve got one foot in the grave

Just look at what you’ve done, and see what you’ve gotten yourself into.

We profess Christ died for our sins, but somehow never get around to letting go of them. Even though being born again means that we can. Wow, it’s a lot higher up here than it looks.

Ever wondered what it might feel like to stop fine-tuning and making excuses, and finally step out over the edge?

Get the picture?

All I need is some short pants ....

Making Waves: The Boat Church - updated

Saw this nicely-done sign posted over the door of a house boat named The Anchor Inn at a marina across the border in Georgia:

“Hope is symbolized in Christian iconography by an Anchor. And what does an anchor do? It keeps the ship on course when wind and waves rage against it. But the Anchor of Hope is sunk in Heaven, not on earth.”

Noticed a new sign yesterday posted on the door to the marina office.

"The Boat Church
Meets Sunday mornings 9:30-10:00 AM at the picnic area just west of the guard shack."

So where’s “the picnic area just west of the guard shack”?

Turn right at the guard shack as you enter the marina. Go through the fence past the storage buildings and you’ll see Ben at the top of the hill, on your right.

The picnic area is straight ahead on the left, just past the launch ramp.

You'll still have plenty of time to catch the 11:15, the 4PM or the 6.

Why not?

Why don't we think prayers are answered? Why do we have a single doubt?

Why don't we believe ... and live ... knowing that if he is raised from the dead, then Christ has already conquered sin?

He did his part. What keeps us from doing ours?

Folks, this shouldn't be hard. Really it shouldn't.

Bad idea

I go out for dinner and end up either engaged, or spraying for bugs.

Go figure.

-spontaneous cell phone photo courtesy of Hope

Silver Spring

You didn't ask mine, but it's either this or here.

Summing Up

"No matter what happened or how things may seem, according to God's plan, today you were presented with an opportunity to honor and glorify Him."

The Gotcha Game

Modern churches often seem divided beyond reconciliation, rail against each other and argue over leftovers like:

Free will, or predestination?
What will Heaven be like, and will it be on earth?
Is baptism a requirement for salvation?
What about the daily necessity for commitment?
Is there such a thing as "the one right religion"?

I'm as dense as a rock; you know it and I'm not ashamed to remind you. But what if instead we asked each other,
So, what did Christ do in your life this week?

Meanwhile, back at Ft. Church ...

7:40 AM

Sometimes the places of worship we’re familiar with can be described as Fort Church.

It’s an outpost with sharp walls and sentries, occupied by believers huddled inside who see themselves as surrounded on four sides. Lookouts guard the front gate, scanning for any sign of enemy activity outside the fort’s walls.

Ft. Church is always fearful of a surprise attack, always concerned with infiltration from the outside, desperately short of supplies, ammunition and hope … badly frightened of being outmaneuvered, outnumbered and overrun. In the face of such overwhelming odds, it’s no surprise Ft. Church’s combat backbone is comprised of secret passwords, coded texts, uniforms, strict rules and procedures.

So they can tell who's allowed inside the fort, and who isn't.

Because they see themselves as pitifully outmanned, under-supplied and under-gunned deep inside enemy country, the soldiers at Ft. Church must choose their skirmishes very carefully. As a result, they’ve rendered themselves totally useless for offensive combat operations.

The garrison at Ft. Church is just holding on, day after day and month after month, waiting to be rescued by the cavalry … not realizing they’ve made themselves prisoners by staying locked behind Ft. Church’s walls.

Oh yeah. At Ft. Church they don’t mind shooting their own wounded.

---

I’m a member of a church that’s more likely to see itself as teams of Navy SEALS and Special Forces paratroopers, armed with the most powerful weapons available, looking forward to offensive combat and engaging the enemy behind his own lines.

Instead of sitting back waiting to be rescued by the cavalry, our teams realize our strength comes from Cavalry … and not from uniforms, rules, secret passwords, nor man-made barriers or walls.

Why do I keep failing so magnificently?

"Faith isn't in trying. Faith is in trusting." -Chip Ingram

Sometimes, it IS all about me

I hope I never get another email from a friend or acquaintance growling, "Why are you slamming me in your blog?"

I'm not. The Blue Book is an online Memo to Self, that's all. Aimed directly and straight at me. So shake off the angst, and climb back on board with no hard feelings.

---
I wish you'd go to Africa with me. Two weeks might change what you think you know about what matters and what doesn't; about what's real and what's not.

Believers are gonna see each again one day in Heaven. And in the past year I've thought a lot about seeing Kito or Jabari, and wondering what I'd say.

"Kito, ain't Heaven great? What brought you here any way?"

"Joe, my family died because we had no water. Not even enough for the children."

"Wow Kito, I hate to hear it. That's rough."

"Well we're here with God now, aren't we? And that's all that matters."

I glance down at my toes, instead of seeing into Kito's eyes. Never thought I'd be stammering in Heaven.

"Look Kito, I thought it was someone else's ministry to help your church and your family."

This time, it's his turn to look away. "Oh yes, I'm sure of it."

"Kito, living like we do ... I mean did .... even haircuts are expensive in America. And let's not bring up taxes, utilities and essentials like insurance. They don't just give stuff away, you know."

I imagine Kito nodding. "I'm sure you believe it. You needed a haircut, and I needed a drink of water. But the thing you received the most was free." Kito shrugs and smiles. "You looked the other way, decided your priorities and what's important ... then forgot all about it."

I'm ready to walk away, before remembering that's exactly what I did when I had the chance. I hear Kito call behind me, "Do you have time to meet my brothers and sisters?"

Just glad he didn't say Our Brothers and Sisters.

---

Calypso is showing her age and sure would look good with a new top and pin striping. A DVD changer in the rear berth would be awesome, and save me some walking when I can't find the remote. No doubt some new, brighter carpeting would really open up the small spaces, too.
---

"I want you to give until it hurts." - Mother Theresa

And then give like you mean it.

Welcome, and stuff

Mike makes docking Calypso backwards into her slip -- on one engine -- look easy. He knows lots of stuff I can't even imagine.


How much is that duck in the window? Buck the Duck drops by the galley for breakfast. I love Buck; he's my bud and his significant other, Gertrude, wears a bracelet. Seriously.


Here's a photo of what the new fridge looks like.


This is the view from the helm.


The levers on the left are the transmission shifters. The two on the right are my favorites ... the throttles. G means Go! ... to the gas dock.


Ah, the not-really-spacious interior.


There's the galley, so you can even cook exotic meals from frozen trays.



A view looking aft (to the back). The rear berth is behind the teak door, under the (now removed) TV. I've heard people can live and sleep down there, but I'm too scared to find out.


On Star Trek Captain Kirk would've punched the intercom and called "The engine room." To me, it's the bilge. Bad stuff happens down there. Frequently and often. Once in a while, it's painful. BTW, that first step is a real doozy.

Usually it's painful.

I Thank You

I think it's fun to take contemporary songs, and re-write the lyrics.

Like, A.D.I.D.A.S. becomes All Day I Dream About Salvation. Sounds Korny, right? But take a look at the Sam and Dave classic I Thank You.

Wish ZZ Top would do this version instead:

You didn't have to love me like you did
But you did, but you did.
And I thank you.

You didn't have to save me like you did
But you did, but you did.
And I thank you.

You gave your life for someone else
That's how I know your loved has conquered death

You made me feel like I've never felt
Mercy so sweet I had to holler for help

You didn't have to love me but you did
But you did but you did
And I thank you

You didn't have to save me but you did
But you did but you did
And I thank you.

Every day is something new,
You showed me Grace and forgiveness too
You got me wanting to be like you
Just so I can love like you do

You didn't have to die in my place but you did
But you did, but you did
And I thank you
No one else could have conquered death
But you did like you did
And I thank you.

Now my life has forever changed
Without your love Jesus I'd still be the same
Now I know what Paul was talking about
Hear me say you got me turned right around
I want to thank you

Kickin' Ice

Although I'm chronically shy, those of you who know me are already aware that, frankly, I have The Strength Of 10 Men.

Don't like to brag about it, but having The Strength Of 10 Men is what allows me to walk down the dock carrying a 100-pound refrigerator on one shoulder, a TIG welding kit on the other, sing Polly Wally Doodle and blog ... all at the same time.

Now I've got all the ice I want, thanks.

Anyway. Calypso may be smaller than your shoe closet, but at least now she has a new combo refrigerator/freezer. No trick photography involved, but here's some highlights from the self-install (Joe Is A Professional: You Kids, Don't Try This At Home)






No problemo.

PS. And if I had The Wisdom Of 10 Brains ... then I'd be a committee.

Knowing Thy Enemy

Roll your eyes if you want to, but I believe Satan is real and likes nothing better than destroying peoples’ lives. While he’s not omniscient and can’t be in two places at the same time, Genesis tells us the he’s got lots of friends around to help him.

With friends like that, who needs an enemy?

The enemy can’t read our minds but he surely knows our nature, our weaknesses and where we’re most vulnerable. And if it seems temptations and distractions aren’t getting the job done he’s got plenty more tricks in his devil-ditty … proven techniques like suspicion, doubt, crushed expectations … and tools like jealousy and anger … that arrive in emotional packages so carefully disguised we don’t always recognize the old man was the sender.

Take gift boxes like frustration and disappointment, for example.

When we don’t get exactly what we want when we want it, especially when we’ve been praying long and hard for it, we’re inclined to wrench our hands and groan, “God, why are you ignoring me?” In extreme situations, not getting the thing we think we deserve we might even lead us to question whether God even exists.

We end up feeling frustrated, and get angry because the creator’s not stepping up to our plate and slugging away to knock one out of the park for the Me Team.

But I’m thinking God gets much more disappointed, frustrated and angry than we can imagine. Like, infinitely more. What makes me say that?

Seeing your son crucified, willfully dying an agonizing death to destroy sin, and then raising him from death to prove his promise was kept only to watch believers tolerate, skip and dance around sin, pretending it ain’t no thang for 2000 years, instead of embracing the realization that if he can raise Christ from the grave then surely God can stomp the sin … any sin … from our lives without breaking a sweat.

Might explain why God hates sin so much … especially when we hide it deep down inside, thinking no one will know, and refuse to let go.

I think about how things would be different today if Christ had come to earth, taken a look around and decided to become a politician instead of our Savior. If he’d focused on running for office instead of running the universe.

If he had taught his followers to Get Out the Vote, debated the Romans about spear control, argued with the high priests about lowering temple taxes, made signs to protest the neighborhood idol shop, wrote news-scrolls urging believers to boycott pig farmers, or instructed the disciples to build new walls to keep the Gentiles out.

Or blogged about social security … and overlooked our eternal security.

But then Christ never had any doubts that only the gospel can matter most.

Career Choice, Job Description

"Our job when we present His message is obedience…nothing more, nothing less."

and nothing but the truth

A few months ago I was on the phone with ORP, musing about whether I went overboard sometimes at The Blue Book depicting myself as a bumbling, clumsy & befuddled dimwit.

I remember her saying, "No, you're right on the money with that. That is the real you."

And she's right, obviously. I am the guy who, in the past 2 months, forgot Calypso's engine hatch was open and tried walking across it in mid-air ... only to fall five feet down straight to the bilge and spill/tangle myself between the two engines. Yet without breaking one bone or pulling a single ligament.

I'm the guy who walked into the side of a trailered houseboat ... hitting my head hard enough to knock myself backward to the ground. Mike is my witness.

But here's one more thing I'm hesitant to admit: I can't tell when I'm being lied to. Especially when lying shouldn't even seem necessary, or be an issue. I can't tell I've been lied to until confronted with the evidence ... though even then I'm inclined to think I'm simply not seeing the whole picture, and give the other person the benefit of the doubt.

It's true.

ORP, Fran and a handful of significant others who've known me best and longest would vigorously confirm it. Even ex-girlfriend TPW called 8 months ago, tearfully warning me to "Be careful who you get involved with."

Why am I mentioning this?

As a reminder to stop talking to myself ... cause there's a chance I might believe what I'm hearing.

When Men Suck

Last Thursday I got to witness two unrelated incidents that made me wanna scream out loud.

One episode involved a man's detached carelessness ... and apparent disregard for his 7-year old daughter's feelings. In his rush to get where he was going, somehow he forgot where he'd left her dog.

OK.

Me? I'd trade his big-buck boat on the spot to get her dog back. But then I'm impractical that way.

The other included a guy and a much younger girl (she was probably 15. Maybe.) who certainly believes this almost-man is exciting, dangerous and living on the edge. Or even worse, that he cares for and is "in love" with her. Believing The Lie You Wanna Believe is easy.

Heck, what do I know? Maybe he was ... at least for the 25 minutes they were alone before he had to rush her back home.

I'd send the girl an alarm clock if I knew her name and address.

But nah, her wake-up call is already on its way.

Paris in the Spring ... (I meant "The Slam")

Somebody had to be first to say it ...

Just Gimme A Heading

If we get one more inch of rain over the next 24 hours, I think I can drive Calypso to church tomorrow morning. Right up 85 at high tide.

Oh, Now I Get It! Department
The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) broadcasts weather information and alerts on "weather band radios." You can buy one at Big Box for about $10 and receive advanced, up to the minute reports about tornadoes and other hazardous weather conditions.

Like flooding.

BTW, NOAA is pronounced "Noah." Like, that Noah with the ark. Get it?

Pretty cool, eh?

ps. I guess NOAA will have to change its acronym if the humanists figure that one out.

Somebody Beat Me - Hard

After buying Calypso I decided I needed new sheets for the two bunks in the rear berth.

Being a guy (and having no idea where sheets and pillow cases are sold) I headed straight over to BB&Beyond because the name says it all ... and picked out sheets by Nautica (because "Nautica" sounds nautical, right?).

Man, who knew what that stylistic statement would cost? Yikes, just the sheets, pillow cases and comforter for Calypso's two beds woulda been $700. $700 bucks US ... and no dust ruffle, either.

I only got the sheets, figuring I didn't need comforting, dusting or ruffling.

This morning I dropped by Target, and got a reality price check about sheet and comforter options.

I Am Pathetic, I Know It Department
The reason I didn't call Fran or ORP before launching into domesti-sheet-ity is because they already know I'm helpless. The reason I didn't call S is because she only suspects it.

I didn't call Joe Sangl because there wasn't anything wrong with my old sheets in the first place. (And Ken woulda told me, "Macs come with new sheets. In titanium, with the Apple logo.")

Life lived, lesson learned.

So Papa takes another chuck on the financial chinny chin chin. Ouch.

Let's Have Sex

It’s Friday and my weekend is totally clear so drop by tonight and let’s hook up, get busy, do the Bad Thing & swap body fluids, make monkey faces, wear each other out, go diggity, make our toes curl, tear it up and tell our friends all the details on Monday … I'll rock your world, but all I’m asking is Don’t talk about your feelings, Don’t expect me to spend any money, and Please get out right away without expecting me to call or stay in touch- I’ll call when I’m ready next time.

That totally isn’t me, but I think it describes a pretty common mindset … even among a staggering number of single believers. So long as we’re consenting adults, is fooling around really that big a deal?

Hey Joe, Wait Just A Durn Minute! You don’t even “date” or do relationships

Even if I wasn’t a believer, there’s still a few questions I’d want answered before thinking too long & hard about indulging in a sexual relationship before marriage.

So much as one NO would be disqualifying:

-Do I trust this person enough to share a joint checking account with her?

-If I forgot or misplaced my bank card, do I trust this person would return it to me without using it?

-If I was incapacitated, would I trust this person to handle my personal finances?

-Would I trust this person with all my computer passwords?

-If I needed a house-sitter, do I trust this person enough to give her the keys to my boat (house/apartment), or allow her to spend a week there alone?

-Am I comfortable believing she’s never “fudged a bit,” misled or lied to me?

-Does she have a “history” of being faithful and monogamous?

-Do I feel certain she’s set her own needs and interests aside, and is focused entirely on what’s best for us both?

-Do I trust this person enough to tell her the most embarrassing, humiliating things about me ... including things from my past?

-Would I donate a kidney (or other organ) to save this person’s life?

-Would I be thrilled and look forward to introducing her to my parents and family?

-If something “went wrong,” would I want to (a) marry her, (b) have my child with her?

-Would I want her rearing my child?

-Would I want my child to become an adult like her?

-Would I be willing to die- without hesitation- to protect her from physical harm?

-Do I already know … with certainty … how she would answer these questions?

Seems to me that having sex, or any form of sexual gratification before marriage, should be a No Brainer. Even if you don’t think it’s a sin.

Which it definitely is.

Sex isn’t simple mechanics, it’s not an exercise regimen nor an alternative therapy for dealing with childhood issues. There is no greater intimacy than what two people share sexually, nothing will heal their vulnerabilities, build their trust and bond their commitment more completely than what God created.

Does it make any sense to dilute what God intended? No matter what the temptations. No matter what the popular excuses.

Situation Report

A quick look around me ...

Ducks show up at my doorstep for breakfast. During the day they come quacking and swimming when they see me, and waddle along behind me on the dock.

I have the best friends on earth ... and there's nothing I could ever do to repay everything they've given me.

When I think of the two people I'd most like to have lunch with, I realize I already have.

I'm a member of a church that teaches it's all about Jesus every Sunday ... and isn't afraid to admit it.

Overall that's not too bad for an overview, not bad at all.

Why do relationships have to be so HARD?!

She never reads The Blue Book, so I'm letting loose because There's Trouble in Paradise.

I think she's gorgeous & alluring and only the least bit temperamental ... especially considering her age. But maybe, in the opening stage of our relationship, she was only on her best behavior to keep me interested.

Now she's started giving me grief, and started acting up.

Uh oh.

Yep, in case you haven't already guessed: it's Calypso. Her right engine won't go into forward gear and she's being totally stubborn about letting me know what's wrong. (Being a guy, of course I'm totally clueless)

Mike suggested changing the transmission fluid (did that), disconnecting the shift cable and try putting the transmission in gear manually. I just want to avoid the appearance of giving in too soon.

An observation: fiberglass starts shrinking when there's no water flowing beneath it.

Boat Dude, Church Dude

Just some idle thoughts from sunrise this morning, while I sat in a folding chair at the shore clutching my binoculars and "Hello Neighbor!" fruit baskets, waiting to welcome any new life forms that may have evolved from lake scum overnight ...

I never realized how much Boat Dudes share in common with Church Dudes:

Boat Dude's kept his boat at several different marinas, according to their status and prestige
Church Dude's always on the look-out for the church where he's most likely to be noticed

Boat Dude shows up at the marina expecting to find his private parking space empty
Church Dude shows up at the church parking lot expecting to find his parking space empty

Boat Dude has his name engraved on a plaque over his slip
Church Dude has his name embossed on a plaque on his pew

Boat Dude only wears the latest clothes consistent with "boating life" to impress others
Church Dude wears the latest fashions consistent with impressing others

Boat Dude eagerly tells others how much his boat cost
Church Dude eagerly tells other how much he tithes

Boat Dude's wife has lots to say about the other women at the marina, especially the size of their bikinis
Church Dude's wife has lots to say about women at church, particularly if their clothes are more expensive than hers

Boat Dude likes to complain about everything that's wrong at the marina, and always has a better idea to share with the marina manager
Church Dude complains about what's wrong at his church and always has a better idea he's eager to share with the pastor

Boat Dude likes to be on the inside, and knows all the marina gossip
Church Dude is the source of church gossip

Boat Dude likes to talk about well-run his last marina was
Church Dude talks about "how we did things" at his old church

Boat Dude has an owner's manual, but never consults it for information or maintenance
Church Dude has a Bible, but never reads it ... because he's already got all the answers

Boat Dude is in love with his self-image
Church Dude is in love with himself

Boat Dude likes to pretend "price is no object"
Church Dude tends to overlook the price Christ paid

Boat Dude likes to talk about boating, but his boat never actually leaves the marina because he's afraid others will see he's got more boat than he can comfortably handle
Church Dude likes to talk about religion but never actually follows Christ, and is afraid others will see his marriage, finances and kids are more than he can handle

Boat Dude only spends weekends at the marina
Church Dude only spends Sunday mornings in church

Bricked

Dinner with S last night at The Brick. Ran into Meg and Pudge. They're awesome, and it was great running into friends.