Life

Rochester Day 12: Rabies Scare

The only thing worse than waking up with a bat in your bedroom is the later, unwavering tension of possible rabies contraction. You know what I mean?

It was five in the morning, and I awoke to the sound of mouse-like pitter-patter and whimpering. In a daze, I grabbed my phone for the flashlight-app and shined it towards the noise. I saw face, teeth, and wings.

Dear Lord, not… I repeat, NOT a mouse.

We’ve been sleeping on an air mattress; yes, terrible for back-support, but great if you need to get your wife out of bed in a hurry; just do a quick bounce-push-1-2 and she’s gone.

The very second—and I mean second—I saw those evil, beady little eyes, and its encroaching, ominous, expanding-devil-wingspan, I bounced and pushed. Megan was off the bed on the floor, waking up—mid flight—to the sound of me yelling “RUNNNN!”

Wide-awake, Megan pulled a Jackie Chan, getting to her feet in lightning speed. We ran out of the room, both completely bewildered, and slammed the door behind us. Expecting claws to shoot through the frame like Jack’s axe in The Shining, I stared at the door in nauseated anticipation.

“What? What was it?” Megan asked, breathing heavy and terrified.

Swallowing, trying to remember basic speech and language patterns, fighting off the fog of little sleep and sheer panic, I found a word that finally made sense: “… Bat.”

Bat Crazy

The creature was after us. That’s for certain.

You could argue the bat flew into our apartment on accident, I guess. The kitchen window was left open after cooking dinner, and the kitchen window, you see, is the only window without a screen. Out for blood though, makes more sense.

Thirty minutes passed and we remained in the living room—frightened, laughing, pacing. We soon realized two things:

  1. We had no internet, and our phones were left behind in the bat-cave.
  2. Leaving our bed as we did, in a hurry in the middle of the night, meant we weren’t wearing nearly enough clothes to go outside or seek any assistance.

I’d love to tell you that I was the hero in this situation, the man. I really would. But my hand on the door-handle, hand off the door-handle masculinity got us no where; Megan beat the stereotype and went in first, snagging a pair of pants and her phone. Best yet, she escaped the man-eating death-clutch of the rabid, Hell-flying mouse and made it back in one piece. (more…)

Niagara Falls and the Speaking, Nasty Universe Pt. 2

When we last left our heroes, Kevin was cussing in a stranger’s driveway and angrily kicking rocks; Megan was hiding, due to embarrassment, from inside of their broken car.

(For part one, click here).

TOWtaly

About six hours we waited. Time slowed down, it seemed. We listened to podcasts; we took walks and explored the street; I peed in the bushes. There was one bright spot when a local, older couple offered us both Pepsi. They left though, and soon we were back in the car, having to pee again.

When 5pm struck, we knew the same-day-Toyota-service-possibility went out the window, so we called around for rental vehicles and prayed for a way home.

Enterprise had one left, an SUV, of course, for $108 a day. There was another place in town, a local shop. They charged only $35 a day with three cars left. The caveat? Well, they closed at 5:30pm.

The last we heard, the tow was coming at 5:09pm.

TOWnality

After six hours of sitting in a black car on a hot day—hating and focusing on everything that went wrong and everybody, including ourselves, who let us down—5:15pm struck, and all of a sudden two tow-trucks slowed down and parked next to our broken Prius.

Two tow-trucks at the same time—it was amazing, like something out of the books. Our luck, if even for a second, was finally turning around.

The first guy approached with a look of horror. He was the one we first talked to, who said we could make it to Toyota if we tried. His name was Dan.

“I am SO sorry,” said Dan, “I didn’t know you guys were still here! Your call was cancelled twice; I thought someone gotcha!” His thick Upstate accent broke a smile on my face for the first time in hours. (more…)

Brave New World: Days 1 & 2

We’re two days into the four day trek across the continental United States. Right now, I’m writing from Madison, Wisconsin. The hotel window has an intriguing view of a store called “Menards,” which I’ve put together is a hardware store.

My last blog (about traveling, not my usual self-righteous religious ramblings) was “Breaking Sad“—a post that explored the up and down emotions of leaving everyone you know and love behind. As a quick update, I have to say that once Megan and I hit the road our outlook changed.

I’m excited. We’re both excited. FINALLY, right? Rochester, New York for goodness sakes! (And I never even say “goodness sakes”). I’ve been fantasizing about moving to the East my entire life. Yes, the West Coast is the “best coast;” it’s beautiful and has always treated me fair, but I’m an explorer at heart and the experience of the unknown is a need I crave.

I’m back on the road, with the lady I love, exploring a brave new world. Best yet, it feels wonderful. Glad to be back!

photo

Every road trip has its lessons. Here’s what I’ve learned:

1. South Dakota is a state full of road-side attractions. You’ll never see them all, and unless you have a week to spend in SD, choose wisely. To give you an idea, we passed up Mt. Rushmore, an 1880 town, a Corn Palace, and some auto-museum with the “Real General Lee.” What did we do in South Dakota? The Wall Drug Store! Duh.

2. We traveled through one of the largest gatherings of motorcycle enthusiasts in the US. Since our car was “loaded to the gills” (as my brother would say) and all my blind spots were magnified, my stress level was a little higher than usual. What’s the lesson here? Always Google your stopping points before you go! We could’ve traveled through North Dakota and missed the leather gang completely.

3. No matter who you are and who you are with, you’ll eventually run out of things to talk about. Megan found a great app that gives endless “conversation starters.” WARNING: They don’t always work.

4. Most of the I90, east of South Dakota, is corn. You think you’ve seen corn before? YOU HAVEN’T!!! Corn for miles, for days!!! Americans love and use of corn is both sickening and impressive.

5. Speaking of corn. If you stop at a gas station and see a grade labeled “E-85,” don’t assume it’s the normal low-grade. It’s 70% Ethanol and is not for every car! Good news, I only put in a half tank.

Wall Drug Store, Wall, South Dakota. So awesome.

Wall Drug Store, Wall, South Dakota. So awesome.

Cleveland is the next stop! Any good tips for the city out there? We’re looking for a great local place to eat and maybe somewhere to explore. The Rock N’Roll Hall of Fame was going to be the main stop, but it’s a little pricy and who cares about the Rolling Stones?

Becoming a Better Friend/Leaving All My Friends

It’s June 5th; this means we have 25 sunny (foggy) days left in California. Time has been flying. I didn’t quite realize how fast it was flying until June 1st came around. Really? It’s June???

It hit me like a pile of time bricks… if that’s a thing…

Five of our six California months have been spent. Geez… In a few days we’ll be flying to Rochester to look for places to stay. When we get back we’ll have another couple weeks here; sooner or later, though, July 1st will roll around and I’ll have to say goodbye to all my California friends and family once more.

July 1st we drive back to Idaho to square up our belongings; sometime in August we’ll make—what I’m dubbing—The Great Drive.

(Confused? About Me is a good place to go to catch up)

Good at Leaving

About four years ago I left California for Coeur D’Alene, Idaho. It was there I met my wife, started school, and got really cold. Originally, I was looking for a change of pace. I used to say, “God called me to Idaho;” truthfully, our signal has never been that strong. I just sort of ended up there.

Every time I leave California, whether it be a weekend visit, six month stay, or major life move, I’m reminded of the friendships I have here. The term friend doesn’t really cut it as much as the term family does.

There’s times where I feel just as connected to Randall, Patrick, Scott, Justin, Timmy, both Aaron Boyds, as I would my own brother or sister. Generally, these people have always been there for me. As I get older, I realize how much I’ve taken them for granted. These goofy, weird people.

Friendships Never Sink

When I was younger I assumed the world existed for my benefit. I thought my friends were suppose to be some sort of accessory—something that benefited me in the way I talked, looked, and spent my time. Consequently, I took way more than I received.

Remember that episode of 30 Rock where Liz Lemon dumps all of her problems on to Kenneth, and then Kenneth goes crazy and needs therapy? I think that’s what I did to the majority of my friends. I really wouldn’t be surprised if they were all in therapy.

That said, I’m trying to be a better friend. I’m trying to be a better person, in general. I’m hoping to give more than I take. This includes listening more than talking, or not turning every conversation into something about me.

My friends have stood by me all these years, despite my selfishness. I hope I will get the opportunity to stand by them someday.

We’re starting to get a little older; responsibilities are starting to pile up. But when we get together, we still laugh as much as ever. We pick up right where we left off and I feel at home.

I guess, what I’m getting at, is that I don’t want to leave my friends again. I know that I’ll have to, but this time it wont be as easy.

Cheezy Friendship Gallery

A few photos, recent and old. I guess I’m being emotional or something.

2013: Patrick, Randall, and I
2013
2013, Kevin & The Wonder Years reunion jam
2013: Beard and some Randall
2009: Ireland Trip
2008: Timmy & Garrett sing me a goodbye song
Kevin & the Wonder Years (Last show, I think?)
2007 or 08: 80s Party
2006 or 07: Me and Timmy,
Sometime 2004 or earlier

The Christian Dilemma of Disagreement

Do you remember your first time? I do. A bet a lot of Christians do. There’s nothing like the first time, the one where you expose everything and… share a theological stance when—worst case scenario—the ear on the other side of the table disagrees with you.

Disagrees? Can Christians do that? Should Christians do that?

My First Time

I’ve gotten better, since my first time that is. I remember it well. I was in youth group, in high school, and the hot topic of teenage dating came up. I argued for it; he argued against it. I hated him. Well no, but he was the type of Christian who always seemed to think the opposite of what I was thinking. I’ve grown to cherish people like this—because, well, it seems that everyone disagrees with me these days—but back then, I couldn’t really handle it.

I remember feeling so caught off guard, I didn’t know what to do. One of us is right, I would think, which means God is against one of us—obviously, not me. 

Processing disagreement has less to do with spirituality and more to do with maturity. At some point we become adults and our emotions dwindle down a bit. We learn to listen and smile—even when we feel like calling someone Mr. Poopy Pants.

For some reason though, spiritual arguments exist on a different level. Our beliefs are very special to us. We’re allowed to have political arguments, sports arguments, American Idol arguments, but when we disagree over spiritual arguments, we take real offense.

Offense/Defense

The reason we take great offense to spiritual disagreements is because we associate God with our beliefs. If I’m wrong then God is wrong then there is no God. I would argue that this is not healthy; however, we have all done it.

I’ve had to learn this lesson many times over. I remember singing along to the mewithoutYou classic song, “Four Part Letter Pt. 2” where the singer yells, “We don’t want our beliefs, God of peace, we want you.” I would sing along and think I knew what that meant. Then I would get into an argument over salvation and walk away with my faith shaken.

If we are one body, if there is one God, if there is one truth, why are we disagreeing so much? 

Our beliefs are not God, but we associate God with our beliefs.

A Dull Stab

Since I chose (yes chose) the route of becoming a slightly left leaning, emergent apologetic Christian—I’m only labeling myself, which I hate doing, for the sake of this blog post—I’ve signed up for my fair share of disagreements. To make things worse, I also dislike the majority of whatever the church does these days. There are other things, but you get the point. I’ve signed myself up for a lot flak.

I’ve grown a pretty thick skin, and I’ve also matured a bit. At the end of the day, regarding our spirituality, we are all just taking stabs. Some use a duller knife than others, yes. But we are all just taking stabs.

There are few things the Bible maps out for us very clearly. Most topics in scripture, however, are meant for a life of meditation, reflection, conversation, and argumentation. We are not meant to have the answer to every question in our pocket, not yet at least.

Is there predestination? Are homosexuals allowed in Heaven? Is there even a Hell—in regards to how we currently think of it? Is church suppose to be how it currently is? And yes, have we made a mess of worship?

We may get the answer in Heaven; we may not care when we get there. What I’ve learned is that it’s okay to ask; it’s okay to argue; we should expect disagreement from one another. Argument proceeds understanding and develops our faith.

Listen, learn, and share what’s in your heart! Be mindful and understand that God speaks to other people as well. Also, you are allowed to be wrong. I do it all the time.

Questions to Argue

1. Have you ever had a spiritual argument that shook your faith?

2. Is there danger in equating God with beliefs (denomination, translation, political views, etc.)? Or should they be one in the same? Is that even possible?

3. If we learn to disagree—to listen and respond in grace—could the Body build a tighter bond?

Pinterest, The Musical

Hey. Over here. Stay with me. The internet is pretty busy these days. There’s a fierce battle of eyeball real estate going on; somehow, I won you over to my blog. I promise to be quick.

Have you noticed the strengthening pace at which attention spans are weakening? I have. My attention span is becoming less like Greek Homer, and more like Springfield Homer.

The internet is just too much for any one person, I’d say. Everything is given to everyone all at once. It’s absolute madness. We have so much information and so little time; we’ve encapsulated data and communication into tiny, bite-size segments. Facebook updates, Twitter feeds, Youtube videos, Instagram pics.

I’m starting to wonder if our over-stimulated, short segmented behavior will bear negative, long-lasting effects on our brains.

Pinterest

Pinterest is a worthy case study, and my favorite example of short-term focus.

If you’re not familiar with Pinterest then let me give you a summary: it’s pictures of things. There’s creative looking things, tasty looking things, funny things… a bunch of things. No set up, no take down, just pictures. It’s like showing up for dinner and finding a steak on the floor.

Since my wife is a Pinterest fan, and I’ve enjoyed some great meals from it, I can’t really hate too much. Some would argue that this mass influx of information, specifically on Pinterest, allows for people to expand their mind by putting to use all these recipes and crafts. Instagram, a Facebook owned social media phone app which also rewards short attention span behavior, is similar to Pinterest in that it motivates its users to experience life by taking pictures of interesting things and sharing them with their friends.

Are we motivating people to do more by giving them smaller, more accessible ways of experiencing life? Is a weakening attention span just a side effect of a more active community?

The Musical

In ten years, I wonder if we’ll even have the patience to explore deep themes in art or build long lasting personal relationships, if we’ll be able to concentrate and solve large problems. (Slippery slope, just a little bit, yes).

Will our books and novels will be filled with only flash fiction? Good God, what will our musicals look like?

ACT 1: Scene 1

Tom: I doth eat at Applebees

Beth: Here, a funny picture of a cat

Albert: I made this

Suzy: Isn’t Ryan Gossling hot?

Charles: “Inspirational quote”

Sally: Vintage jewelry for sale!

Kevin’s Final Thoughts

The internet panders to our short attention spans, yes. In truth though, the internet isn’t evil, Facebook isn’t the devil, and Pinterest isn’t Ticketmaster. They’re just websites and tools we use. Like alcohol, TV, or coffee before it, the internet has no safeguard. It’s us who carry the responsibility of moderation.

We are an internet driven generation who is over-stimulating the same area of its brain on a daily basis. I think it’d be wise to keep this in check, to take a break every now and then and, if possible, reward our sustained attention span with a mental cookie.

Before you go, I’d love to hear your thoughts in response. What’d you think? Stay with me.. no… nooo… noo…

Pinterest 1

Further Reading: Internet Fasting: My Googless Week