epiphany

First Beer, Now Bicycles

We seem to be facing the first stages of a world-wide bruin uprising. When will the madness stop?

Vox Pop

My church has a large extra side room called the Paradox that they've given (rented?) for concerts by local bands. Well, last night they hosted a free concert by some of the church members' groups. The Romantiques opened with a set of Mars Hill songs. The Richard Harleman Experience followed with a minimal, Johnny Cash styled approach to country music (including a few of Johnny's songs, I think). The last group to go was Team Strike Force, one of the official church bands. They did an "accoustic" (no electric guitars) version of several of their songs and ended with a no-guitars-at-all arrangement of one of my favorites:

Destructor
music, song and arrangement (c)Team Strike Force

[I prefer the arrangement of the second one listed at the above link.]

From the first time you flooded the earth
To the last time you burned off the curse
To the way that you hated your Son
When you hung all the sins of the world

Holy, Holy, Holy, Holy

Heaven will disappear with a roar
The host of God will come to destroy
Sin is a declaration of war
God will have his glory one way or another

In reverence we'll come to your throne
Indebted to your Holy Son
The ripe vine of the earth will be crushed
And your light will shine over the earth

Mom and Dad

This is a shot of the photo mentioned in the previous post's comments. Apparently you can't post photos in the comments section of a blog. (I tried.)

Front Page

Here's a link to the Watertown Daily Times article about the building dedication at Maranatha. I don't know how long it'll stay up.

Building Dedication

Yesterday afternoon, Maranatha Baptist Bible College dedicated their new science building to my dad. The ladies in the photo are (from left to right) my sister, Suzanne, my Aunt Judy, my grandma, my Aunt Wendy and my mom (both the aunts are Dad's sisters). The little girl is my niece, Anna.*

Dad died on October 18, 2002, after a long bout with cancer. He was a research geneticist with the USDA and a board member at Maranatha.

*Thanks to Uncle Kent for e-mailing me the photo.

McPhee and Me

After a couple of hours of looking through the want ads this morning, I realized that I wasn't really seeing or processing them anymore. This tends to happen a lot with me lately. I took some groceries up to Merideth, my landlord's wife, and she asked how I was doing. I told her that job hunting seems to be burning me out, even though I haven't done that much. She suggested doing one fun thing each day as an escape or mental break. On her recommendation, I headed down to the Chittenden Locks.

I had visited the Locks last summer and enjoyed them. They're situated in the midst of a large garden full of exotic plant species. While the Chittenden Locks (sometimes called the Ballard Locks for the neighborhood they're in) aren't the largest in the US, they're among the busiest, with several hundered thousand boats going through each year. I arrived after my three mile or so walk just in time for one of the two daily tours.

The neatest thing about the Locks is the fish ladder. Salmon run up the canal each summer, so the government built a viewing area in the ladder. King salmon happen to be running right now, and you could watch them splashing about in the canal. Last year someone told me that they jump in order to knock off parasites. The ranger said that the parasites will die and fall off within a day or two of reaching fresh water. He also said that today was a great time to watch the kings because of all the rain we had this weekend. As more fresh water flows, more fish return to their home waters.

Merideth also told me about a store I had to visit. I stopped at Archie McPhee's on the way to the Locks, and I'm pretty sure that once I get a job, I'll be stopping in again fairly often. They call themselves the "Outfitters of Popular Culture," and they are a riot. All the cheap, chinzy little toys and gadgets you've ever imagined or seen advertized in kiddie comics crowd the shop. From potato guns to Rosie the Riveter bobble heads, from Chinese candies (White Rabbit!) to pink yard flamingos, from action figures of the Librarian (with real "shushing" action) to the Messiah, they have it. It's an absolute riot.

I especially want to get a Free Ballard! shirt or hat. Down with Seattle Hegemony!

The Eyes Have It

or

The Heart of Tammy Faye

Mention the name "Tammy Faye" around my family, and you're bound to hear a one-liner in-joke. When all of the Jim Bakker and Tammy Faye mayhem was roiling in the late 80's, we were on vacation at my grandfather's in New Brunswick. I was roughly ten years old, and the only line I remember from the time was from a brief television interview. A heavily made-up woman, creeks of mascara and tears washing down her cheeks, proclaimed, "I cried and cried until I had no more tears to cry. And then I cried some more." Since that day, the line has become more and more emotionally and dramatically embellished, swooping out to family laughter at all the wrong moments. As for my actual opinion on the subject, all I knew at the time was that those were some leaders of that televangelist crowd, so they were probably getting their just desserts, having lived out luxurious lives of sin on the money of the needy and gullible.

While things certainly went wrong and I can't agree with everything the people stood for, as of last night, I feel the need to apologize for my young opinion. Last night I learned at least one more side of the story. Last night I watched The Eyes of Tammy Faye.

A documentaryreleased in 2000, The Eyes tells the tale of the rise and fall of the Bakker clan, and their continued perseverance, through the eyes of Tammy Faye, focusing on her story and how she dealt with the troubles given her.

I had heard that the film was both hilarious and sad, and I approached the story with a good bit of pent-up sarcasm. While it is playful and does certainly have it's funny moments, including a particularly rude cutting to her doctor partway through an interview, overall it's the story of a Christ-loving woman making good on her faith through terrible circumstances. Good grief--the problems those people went through! While definitely a one-sided story , if what we saw was true, certain leaders of the televangelical community have much to answer for. (According to the narrator, several were asked for interviews but rejected the offer. Sadly, the only detractor who agreed to an interview was, to my knowledge, an unbeliever.)

Unfortunately, I do need to say that can't wholly recommend the film for my friends and family. Although it's a documentary, I would have to give it an R-rating (at least--although you never know, it could be PG-13 by today's standards) because of a few brief clips from Jessica Hahn's "rebuttal" video, apparently produced for Playboy close to the time of the breaking of her and Jim's adultery scandal. So while it's an excellent movie all around, viewer discretion is advised.

Despite the warning I've given, this movie turned me from a sarcastic doubter to a fan. Addictions, financial hardship, family upheaval--should I be faced with such problems in life, I can only aspire to come through them with as much love and forgiveness as Tammy Faye demonstrated. I wish her all the best.

Yup, that's Seattle

What do you call a bear with a hangover? I don't know either, but here's some enlightening information on the worldwide plague of wildlife substance abuse.

What Not to Do at an Interview

I made it down to my first back-in-Seattle interview (at the Northwest Tissue Center) about ten minutes early. Everything seemed to go well. The people I met with were really nice, and we seemed to get along. Overall, I'd say the interaction and interview itself were excellent.

I was fine with talking about tissue donation. I was fine with holding and looking at some freeze-dried packaged human vertebrae (there was a little plastic window you could see through). I was fine with the x-rays of tumors and talking about replacing affected joints. Everything was fine.

UNTIL . . .

we got to the x-rays of bone trauma. There was no bone. Perhaps I could call it "the case of the missing elbow." Yes, it was gross, but I thought I was doing ok. Then the room started disappearing into shimmery whiteness, and all the sounds around me grew muffled. I asked to sit down and fortunately did not actually faint. It took a few minutes to recover, but once the dizziness had passed, I continued with the tour. The guy who was helping me said that that reaction happens once in a while with interviewees, but it sure was embarrassing.

They probably won't be hiring anyone for about a month. My main interviewer said that she nearly passed out on an assignment at the beginning of her medical career, so she was highly sympathetic to my little reaction. I'm going to take a couple of days to think about whether I can actually handle this job and then let them know if I'd be interested in continuing as a candidate.

But talk about embarrassing--almost fainting at your interview.

The Politics of Rejection

I find it bizarre how much of the political advertising landscape is based on negative or rejective ideas. Out here in Seattle, I've seen very few vote-for-anybody signs. But I've heard a good amount of anti-Bush rhetoric, most of it carrying the convincing message of "Get Bush Out." I'm sure the Republicans are doing their fair share of anti-Kerry campaigning as well. It just seems like a poor strategy to focus on what we're against rather than what we're for. Removal and rejection are poor substitutes for a plan and direction. We cannot come together as a nation when our choice of leaders is advertised in a negative, hate-oriented fashion.

This may be blogging suicide, but can any of you politically active (and polite) people out there give me POSITIVE reasons why I should vote for one or the other of the major contenders, or even why I should go Green or Libertarian?

Know ahead of time that negative comments will most likely be edited or removed. Rudeness will get you permanently banned. Please do not respond simply to counter someone else's post--keep it focused on the good things about your candidate and his platform.

For Sunday

"No one who is born of God will continue to sin, because God's seed remains in him; he cannot go on sinning, because he has been born of God. This is how we know who the children of God are and who the children of the devil are: Anyone who does not do what is right is not a child of God; nor is anyone who does not love his brother."

-I John 3:9-10 [emphasis added]

Recovery

Well, the nettle stings aren't so this morning as they were well into yesterday evening. They didn't keep me awake once I went to bed, but I could still feel them pretty clearly. I haven't been stung by nettles since early elementary school. I was walking in the marsh near the UW-Madison greenhouses with my dad. I don't recall much of the incident, just that a plant stung me.

When I haven't been job searching, running errands or walking to the beach because I'm bored/drained out of my skull from sitting at a computer most of the day, I've been writing some lengthy e-mails to a friend in need and posting fairly long responses to comments on another blog.

The insanities and messiness that consume the mind.

Beset by Nettles

Beset by nettles, how can this be?
I, great lover of blackberries,
Merely meant to pluck the biggest
And the best of the spreading patch.
But berries here are better guarded.

Though they grow bigger and tempt
Unequal to Wisconsin's strain,
So is their defense the greater:
Fierce thorns that hook and tear;
Larger leaves that hide the prize.

But worst of all be nettles hid
Like bees beneath the berry leaves.
Pick and sting and scratch and spread--
A brush against the bitter leaves
Leaves lasting memory:

Temptation may taste sweet but is not free.

Applying Myself

I've been spending a good amount of time looking for work both online and through the Sunday paper. I've had a positive response from one place. I dropped off a cover letter and resume at another this morning. And of all the crazy things for me, I have an interview next Thursday with the Puget Sound Blood Center for a position with the Northwest Tissue Bank. A friend there told me about a spot I could do and strongly encouraged me to go for it. Sometimes you just need a good kick in the pants. At least I often do.

In other news, I'm a good bit of the way through the membership process at Mars Hill, thanks to having taken their introductory class last summer. (And yes, I do realize that I make the name a link every time.) I went for my meeting with a pastor this morning and had a nice chat. He explained some of their philosophy for me in a little more detail, and I found myself in strong agreement. I think the only thing I have to do now is wait for them to get all of my info into the system and I'm good to go.

Salmon and Chips

After a rainy week, we've had a really nice weekend. Saturday started cloudy and looked like rain would come, but it stayed dry. The clouds became more patchy throughout the morning. By the late afternoon, it was sunny and pleasant. I had supper with some friends in West Seattle, and Drew had to turn the heat on for me on the way back to Ballard late last night.

Today I went to Mars Hill's 9:00 and 5:00 services. They have another at 11:15, but having just been to the one (and since each service is "the same," more or less), I thought it would be better to spend some time at home. What was I thinking? I certainly didn't want to do more online job hunting on Sunday! It was nice to be back in church, and they even played my favorite MH song, "The Glory of God."

The weather was fantastic all day long. Rainier was out in all its glory, shining proudly above the hills and city skyline as I drove toward downtown this morning. One friend told me that the Blue Angels were flying at Lake Washington today for Sea Fair, but I decided not to brave the traffic and parking. Instead, I took my old hike down into Carkeek Park to the beach. Along the route I raided several blackberry bushes but stopped my nibbling for a while when I saw the striped and wiggly end of a worm sticking out of one of my freshly picked berries. I walked on the beach for a while sat down on a white driftwood log with my face to the Sound and the Olympics. The wind was stong and cool from the northwest; even though the clouds had gone into hiding, the warmth of the sun couldn't keep up with the breeze. I closed my eyes and listened to the waves on the rocks and the wind in my ears.

I headed back along the forest path past Piper's Orchard and scavanged a few more blackberries along the route. However, my path home, different from the way I came in, had been closed toward its outlet due to a "possibly dangerous erosion" problem. The suggested (and only) detour left me a lot farther away than I had wanted but still let me pass the grocery store to pick up a newpaper once I had left the park.

After the evening service I went to Ivar's Salmon House with some friends. We ate on the deck overlooking Lake Union. I'd heard that Ivar's makes some of the best fish and chips in the area, but when I saw salmon and chips on the menu, I couldn't resist. They batter and fry it like the cod, and it was good. I don't normally innovate much with sauces on meat, particularly fish, but ketchup added an interesting flavor to the mix.

Mount Rainier. Mars Hill. Blackberries by the beach. And salmon for supper.

Talk about a pleasant Pacific Northwest day.

Jobbing

I've spent most of the day today at the computer hunting for jobs. I haven't found much in line with my degree or experience, so I'm pretty sure I'll have to expand my hunt next week. Fortunately, it was rainy almost all day long, so there wasn't much tempting me to go outside or visit Carkeek Park, which was my favorite daily haunt the last time I was in Seattle Drew told me that they haven't had rain for about two months and that this batch probably wouldn't last too long. But this is the third day of it.

However, right now it's sunny and beautiful out the window. It's also late enough that I'm closing up shop for the day.

Into the West

I left home and headed West again this past Sunday.

The drive itself was uneventful. I decided that I needed some quiet time, so I didn't turn on the radio for the entire trip. Thirty hours of silence. Well, almost. I did turn on the radio two times (both in Washington state) to check on some traffic warnings. Other than that combined four minutes of WSDOT radio, all I listened to was myself and the noise of the road. And the road can be very noisy at times.

On the first day of my trip, I traveled through Wisconsin and Minnesota, finally stopping for the night at Bismark, North Dakota. From the few times I've heard people mention North Dakota, it seems to have a bad reputation as being excessively flat. But in reality, at least from I-94, the land across the eastern side of the state consistently undulates in low, sweeping hills decked with fields of corn and grain. Toward the middle, it becomes pronouncedly hilly, especially when approaching the Missouri River. And the western end is full of the Badlands. The painted canyon is particularly beautiful.

I had great memories of Montana, so the eastern end of the state disappointed me. It was largely a continuation of the dry and barren Badlands which, while intriguing, do get old after several hours. Things start to become more visually enjoyable around Billings, and the driving livens up as you head into the mountains. Interestingly, it was in the patchy rain of the mountains that I got the best gas mileage of the trip: 33+mpg.

I spent my second night about fifty miles northwest of Missoula in a small motel in the town of Superior, Montana, arriving just as a thunderstorm offered its first cracks of lightning. The Hilltop Hotel doesn't have phones in the rooms, but it is clean and more than adequate for a mom and pop type of place. And Rosie, of Rosie's Cafe, which provides a 10% discount to roommers at the hotel, makes a great batch of biscuits and gravy.

I spent most of the drive through eastern Washington wondering why it looks familiar yet foreign. I think that the overall shape of the landscape is similar to southern Wisconsin, but everything looks bigger or broader, probably because the high desert lacks the forests and colors of home. Still, it makes for pleasant driving, zooming up and down hills with the gold of a dried-up landscape surrounding you. The Cascades were also fun as I approached Seattle itself.

I had been rather afraid of this trip. The last time I came to Seattle, it was a great adventure, and I was flying blind. This time felt much more like growing up. I came with greater awareness, yet I felt much less prepared. However, when I crossed Lake Washington on I-90 and saw the hillside dotted with homes and skyscrapers jutting upward in the distance, the reality of where I was going became more real. When I turned onto I-5 into the heart of the city, I became truly excited and kept shouting, "I'm back! I'm back!" I almost wanted to cry with happiness.

I'm staying with my former roommate and his wife, who are terrific fun and are a joy to see married. When my old landlord came down to see me last evening, he said, "Welcome home."

I told him he was right. This is home.

As for interesting sights during the trip, in Wisconsin I saw an eagle and two deer. In North Dakota I enjoyed the beauty of coral-colored fields and blue and golden clouds pierced by a rainbow at sunset. As a lover of hay bales, I was excited to note vast herds of them grazing all the way across the state and well into Montana. They must not be native to the mountains, but they once again dotted the hills of eastern Washington. In Montana I saw a small herd of pronged horn antelope feeding near the highway. I also saw a thin, very dark black man sitting in nothing but his briefs at the doorway of his hotel room.

But the grandest sight, even better than turning onto I-5, came as my car climbed out of the western side of the Columbia River Gorge in central Washington. The landscape had been dry and relatively monotonous for hours. I couldn't see beyond the gorge wall, so I was expecting more of the same, knowing that the Cascades were still quite a distance away. As I crested the steep hill, I gasped audibly. There, towering white and mystical over the golden plain and brown hills beyond, stood Mt. Rainier, as imposing as if one of the ancient gods of Valimar had revealed himself. Words and pictures cannot describe the awed shock of that moment.

I slept more deeply last night than I have for many weeks. "Lay down your sweet and weary head . . ." While I know that trouble and struggle is bound to come as I search for work and find a place for myself in this crazy, comfortable town, I am happy to be here and fully content in the moment.

Sometimes dreams do come true.