tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52862692011-04-21T17:07:38.370-07:00thinking on screens, my brain can breathe -- ahhhhh....Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comBlogger1731100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1122062884027233732005-07-22T13:07:00.000-07:002005-08-22T17:01:02.150-07:00

This morning I ran down from our house to the ocean. I like to think that running is a regular occurrence for me, but in reality, it only happens maybe twice a month.I huffed and puffed down the sidewalk (a little old lady about 100 feet in front of me got out of the way, so I knew I sounded like a steam train coming). I kept my focus on the ocean and ran to it, thinking of:"Do you not know that

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1080017240384476602004-03-22T20:12:00.000-08:002004-03-22T20:50:40.810-08:00

Our church has a knack for doing something new every week. You never really know what to expect. It is, however, always a pleasant surprise. We approached the cross, one at a time from two directions. It stood about 8 feet tall, covered neatly in white paper. The band played an endless melody, singing, "Jesus, Friend forever..." and "You are my King". Each one of us knelt to take a brush, dipped

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1074818900683831892004-01-22T16:48:00.000-08:002004-01-22T16:50:21.546-08:00

My friend Deenanath has written me again about his continuing tales of life in India. After reading this, read his last entry here. Oh call it what you will, wander lust, an insatiable need for adventure, a juvenile need for thrill seeking or just plain boredom. I don't know what it was that drove me out the door of my peaceful ivory tower but there I was kit bag slung over my shoulder, umbrella

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1074576763219011872004-01-19T21:18:00.000-08:002004-01-19T21:34:40.530-08:00

A conversation I overheard in the locker room at the gym the other day: "Hey Big J!" "Rosster! What's up!" "You know, another day." "Yep, another day, another half a dollar." "Yep!" "Yep." "Taking off?" "Headed out." "Out to rake it in, huh?" "You know, doin' what I can." "I bet! Better spread it around though!" "You got it!" "All right then, see ya around J.R.!" "You bet big Steve.

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1073204818763600322004-01-03T23:42:00.000-08:002004-01-04T00:28:35.216-08:00

"OBEY MY BUMPER STICKER" This was easily the best bumper sticker I've ever seen, and a great commentary on the entire subculture of bumper stickers. Have you noticed that every bumper sticker contains some sort of command, or some sort of black-and-white definition leaving no room for ambiguity? Some place the driver of the car into a very specific category, as though they can never escape

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1071388786485661612003-12-13T23:35:00.000-08:002003-12-14T00:00:54.840-08:00

45 minutes in Target today taught me a valuable truth: there's no such thing as the "christmas" spirit. Sure, there's the Spirit of Christmas -- God, that is -- and this day is supposed to be about celebrating when divinity came to humanity in the most personal, vulnerable way. This first Christmas meant that our reconciliation with God could be possible. That's something to celebrate! But this

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1070498603485826822003-12-03T16:23:00.000-08:002003-12-03T16:44:18.686-08:00

I finally have found some time for an entry. Amazing! Who knows who's even reading this now that I've been away for so long. I certainly wouldn't come back every day if there was nothing to read. So to you loyalists: all right already! I thought I'd respond to a comment from the entry on Nov. 19th. Not sure if you are someone I know in person or not, but I am definitely a

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1069269076935109912003-11-19T11:10:00.000-08:002003-11-19T11:13:03.640-08:00

During our IM conversation just now, my wife said: Have I ever told you about my plan to buy an island somewhere and send certain celebrities there to be resocialized? So far on the list are Kid Rock, Eminem, Britney Spears and Christian Aguilara, with the recent addition of Kelly Osborne. Actually, there will be two separate islands with lots of hungry sharks in between to make absolutely sure

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1069256317878593162003-11-19T07:37:00.000-08:002003-11-19T07:39:13.013-08:00

At the rental car place a couple weeks ago, I was waiting for my car to show up, and struck up a conversation with the guy working there, Joaquim. We talked about the regular stuff, but I hate small talk, so I worked in the subject of God. "Are you a Christian?" Joaquim asked. I said yes, and it was like our conversation was now allowed to start over in the right key. He smiled and shook my

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1068972497990351672003-11-16T00:45:00.000-08:002003-11-16T00:52:52.030-08:00

A well-done website complements Michael D. O'Brien's work. I came across this randomly, and love it. Here's a link to his Byzantine style works. It is really a shame that so much art has been lost, or unpursued, in the Protestant churches. Simply step into any Orthodox church, surrounded by the icons and imagery, and you will be overwhelmed if you've been accustomed to a dry, First Baptist of

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1068972168135692902003-11-16T00:41:00.000-08:002003-11-16T00:43:54.153-08:00

The drive from our house down south, to Laguna Beach, was long. Arduous, even, as we slogged through LA traffic. The only hope was in the goal, seeing family from long past. It proved to be worth it, but nine hours in the car wears your skin thin, and traffic is sandpaper on raw nerves. Being far apart from my person made me half a person, and the temptation was to cast the cause of pain onto

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1068971711464885912003-11-15T23:49:00.000-08:002003-11-16T00:42:11.610-08:00

So, in an attempt to stretch my blogging muscles, I'll recount a few hither and thithers of the last week or so. My mom visited us for a week, and there was much adventure. I don't often realize how humdrummingly simple our lives at home are until something like this comes up. The highlight of the trip, as far as hubbub goes, was the drive down south to visit family we hadn't seen in too long a

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1068968974500962172003-11-15T23:48:00.000-08:002003-11-15T23:50:05.310-08:00

Two weeks of no blogging! I'm not going to even offer an explanation; I'm just recognizing my own blogging laziness....

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1067799548920768842003-11-02T10:48:00.000-08:002003-11-02T10:59:21.733-08:00

On Halloween night, while everyone else was putting final touches on their costumes, I was watching the sun set. I wasn't alone. I was standing on a cliff with 20 or 30 other people, all of us looking west over the ocean. The surf was subtle, a few waves careening back and forth into each other in the small cove below. The sky was painted with every color, and every kind of cloud. Big puffy

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1067574386016119922003-10-30T20:18:00.000-08:002003-10-30T20:26:36.000-08:00

I asked my son if he wanted to accept a recent job offer. He said yes. My pastor had asked if I would pass on a request: would my son draw or paint a picture of Jesus to be put up in the church? His picture would be enlarged and set up alongside other children's pictures of Jesus, to coincide with the Christmas season. My son accepted. I asked him what he would draw. "That would be easy. All

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1067573690155264522003-10-30T20:14:00.000-08:002003-10-30T20:16:54.856-08:00

Thereis something about falling with your legs apart and landing on a metal pole that puts life into perspective. Groin injuries can be metaphysical. It was not a particularly intense game of freeze tag today, just your average hour of nonstop chasing and screaming. A lot of fun usually. But I sustained my third injury this week, and now I'm on the freeze tag disabled list. My son was It. I was

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1067239340406348112003-10-26T23:10:00.000-08:002003-10-26T23:22:25.246-08:00

It is always difficult to see myself through someone else's eyes. It's a form of egotism, I guess, that I know myself better than anyone. The truth is that God knows me better than I do, and that is a hard thing to reconcile sometimes. It's hard to reconcile for a couple reasons, I think. For one, it means that whether I want him to know or not, God knows every detail of my life, from the time I

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1067067289164892152003-10-24T23:55:00.000-07:002003-10-25T00:41:24.496-07:00

After school -- and the daily game of freeze tag with all the kids -- I asked my son if he remembered asking me what happens when lava hits the ocean. "No, I don't renember that." "Oh, well, I think you asked me a few weeks ago. Do you want to go see it?" And after a lengthy explanation according to his wild imagination of what happens when you touch hot lava, we agreed to go. We headed to the

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1067064897364430352003-10-24T23:53:00.000-07:002003-10-24T23:54:59.890-07:00

Today marks my return to blogging! I've been very sparse on the entries lately. There was a part of my brain that seemed to be shut down. I've replaced the fuse....

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1066939997612854232003-10-23T13:11:00.000-07:002003-10-23T13:19:52.033-07:00

I'm really looking forward to Mel Gibson's new movie, The Passion of Christ, but things like this make me wonder if it's getting God's blessing or not. Maybe it's because they added subtitles.

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1066632413697864762003-10-19T23:46:00.000-07:002003-10-19T23:57:44.970-07:00

I have just returned from the world of rock. The band I saw tonight -- Kendall Lane -- was more powerful than a locomotive, and able to leap tall drum risers in a single bound. These guys have all the moves I wish I had. I've played a lot of music in my life, but I've never been able to pull off the rock moves that they could. Kendall Lane has a lineup of two guitars, bass and drums, with lead

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1066193930049487292003-10-14T21:53:00.000-07:002003-10-14T21:58:49.390-07:00

I'm reading Hannah Hurnard's book tonight, and am at this paragraph now: "She learned in this way the first important lesson on her journey upward, that if one stops to parley with Pride and listens to his poisonous suggestions and, above all, if he is allowed to lay his grasp upon any part of one, Sorrow becomes unspeakably more unbearable afterwards and anguish of heart has bitterness added to

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1066115368094533412003-10-13T23:12:00.000-07:002003-10-14T00:09:28.156-07:00

I've just finished Gore Vidal's Lincoln. That and the recent recall election had shifted my brain into political gear. One of the quandaries of politics is this: why do we vote for the people we vote for? The choices are made for so many different specific reasons, but I wonder if there is a fundamental emotional decision at the root of it all. Is it just because we like the candidate? There is

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1065649390261565582003-10-08T14:37:00.000-07:002003-10-08T14:44:46.136-07:00

Arnold promised: not to raise taxesnot to make any education cutsto respond in detail to each of the six (or more) allegations of sexual harassment and batterySo now we can wait and see. Of course, he isn't starting out with a clean record, since he promised that he wouldn't take any money for campaign contributions -- and then he did. (I'm not going to post any links to these quotes, since

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1065589256774126492003-10-07T21:56:00.000-07:002003-10-07T22:00:56.926-07:00

The more I watch the votes coming in, confirming that Davis is recalled, the more I get the feeling of when you drive past a big car accident on the freeway: sad, yet intensely interested at what is going on. I almost am looking forward to how ridiculous it will be to see Arnie as governor. Maybe we'll even see another bizarre recall election in a year!

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1065587567106680652003-10-07T21:00:00.000-07:002003-10-07T21:32:46.823-07:00

The polls closed an hour ago, and Washington Post says that 18% of the precincts have reported that there is now a Governor Schwarzenegger in California. It pains me to even write that. As someone close to me just said, "how can people be that stupid?" The dumbing down of America has steadily increased, and will continue to. There are a lot of theories as to why, but there should be no question

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1065341517323704742003-10-05T01:10:00.000-07:002003-10-05T01:12:39.956-07:00

An excerpt from a recent email I received from my deep and true friend who moved to India last year: Sunlight, dappled by the dense tropical greenery, patterned itself in little soft circles. Golden, warm, soft little circles on the rich, red, foot worn earth. Seemingly far away monsoon clouds slowly moved towards me. It would rain before I got home, but rain or no, an umbrella was still a man's

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-106515938755507442003-10-02T22:31:00.000-07:002003-10-02T22:36:27.370-07:00

We were driving across the mountain today -- me and Little Man -- when he I noticed that the clouds looked fantastic! They were solid white cirrostratus that abruptly ended in a big curved edge, like the edge of a faroff white blanket on sky blue sheets. I said, "Wow, look at those clouds!" "There's a lot of fog!" replied Little Man. "Yes, but look at the blue sky part over there." There was

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1065072433814398552003-10-01T22:27:00.000-07:002003-10-01T22:27:13.606-07:00

Jacksonville tot who spent 2 1/2 weeks alone released from hospital: "My daughter is bouncing back right now. It's a miracle - an act of God." Her mother was arrested, neglected to say she left her daughter alone in the apartment, and more than half a month later, her separated father goes looking, finds her, and everything turns out okay. Human resilience? Not this time. Her father says it all.

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1065071394213635032003-10-01T22:08:00.000-07:002003-10-01T22:15:35.006-07:00

It's the first of October, and as much as I love seeing the new picture on the calendar in the kitchen, I'm still a little uneasy. Arnold Schwarzenegger will be my governor in one week. When I first heard he was running, it was along the same lines as Gary Coleman, Larry Flynt, or Gallagher. The nation laughed at the west coast as we did what only California is capable of doing: making the

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1064898834928057182003-09-29T21:56:00.000-07:002003-09-29T22:13:54.953-07:00

You know when that little thread or piece of fuzz is stuck to the carpet, and you run over it again and again with the vacuum, trying to get it off the ground? Of course, you could just bend over and pick it up, but then there wouldn't be a need for the word "carperpetuation", which perfectly describes it. Sniglets are words for things that don't have words yet. Or officially, "Any word that

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1064896195419292862003-09-29T21:16:00.000-07:002003-09-29T21:48:20.690-07:00

Yesterday my wife and I celebrated a wonderful moment together. Our car turned 90. 90,000 miles, to be exact. That's right, we watched as the odometer slowly rolled over from a series of 9's into a perfect row of zeros, led by a never-before-seen 9. Just think. That 9 in the ten-thousands place had been hiding for almost nine years. Every thousand miles, it would turn a little closer, waiting

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1064817732162546432003-09-28T23:41:00.000-07:002003-09-28T23:42:11.913-07:00

"Jesus loves me this I know For the bible tells me so." This song might possibly be a load of crap. I was absentmindedly singing it the other day. It's not entirely clear how it got in my head in the first place. I wasn't raised in the church, so it wasn't instilled in me as a kid. It has a catchy sing-song tune to it though. Who knows. But when I really considered what it was saying, I

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1064465397887718352003-09-24T21:48:00.000-07:002003-09-24T22:01:16.470-07:00

Every night, my son and I have a competition on who can turn out the lights quicker. He has one over his bed, and I have another in the other corner. I say one-two-three, and then he usually wins. It's a way he can have one little victory before falling asleep, and it always ensures a smile. Tonight, though, it yielded a fiery sermon. From him. He was rolling his body off the bed right after

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1064385334122976552003-09-23T23:32:00.000-07:002003-09-23T23:35:33.820-07:00

There are some things that seem to taint a day no matter how good it might be otherwise. Yesterday, it was a car accident. Up until that point: a relaxing weekend with my wife's family -- well, my family too -- filled with good food, swimming in the pool and great people. I didn't do a bit of work all weekend. It was wonderful. And then backing out of the driveway, after saying our goodbyes, I

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1064211809983449722003-09-21T23:03:00.000-07:002003-09-21T23:23:29.813-07:00

I did two things in the past week that I never do: go to the mall, and watch TV. I regret both of them. Well, not really. Both are always interesting. Both are always fun and frenetic. At the same time, I always see more than I wish I'd seen, and I always get a little woozy from the constant barrage of consumer culture directly into my brain. Several highlights stand out: 1.) Getting a wedding

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1064079042941184802003-09-20T09:41:00.000-07:002003-09-20T10:45:24.760-07:00

Half a decade ago, I swore a vow. I was at work, shooting rubber bands at things across the room. I had achieved a certain degree of fame in the workplace. My accuracy was legendary. The speed of my rubber band was swift, whistling as it flew through the air. My fingers were like Robin Hood's bow -- deadly and precise. Coworkers knew that if I was casually walking by, and my nimble fingers

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1064040195213380742003-09-19T23:41:00.000-07:002003-09-19T23:44:22.996-07:00

Wow! Joe Boyd sums it up here. Allow me to copy and paste and agree:Why? Because he isn't who you think he is. Because he is radical, rebellious and revolutionary. Because he is wiser than Master Yoda, more powerful than Gandalf the Gray, and more beautiful than Nicole Kidman. Because he parties with mobsters, philosophizes with drunken sailors, and accepts generous financial considerations

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1063863966162095862003-09-17T22:21:00.000-07:002003-09-17T22:46:05.710-07:00

"I know a girl named Reese. She wants to be a boy. My Mom's going to help her." Yet another highlight from my morning sitting in the classroom with the first graders. This snippet came from a girl as she idly colored her picture. Don't ask me what prompts these kids to say what they do. The mind of a six-year-old is a precious and unique little thing. But my friend, who I will call "Mia" (Greek

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1063861925452603602003-09-17T22:05:00.000-07:002003-09-17T22:18:32.483-07:00

Apparently, every Wednesday is Blog About The First Grade Day, since I'm in the classroom that morning. So, here's some lyrics to one of my son's favorite songs. This one goes out to all the first graders at heart. "Well I'd like to visit the moon on a rocket ship high in the air. Yes, I'd like to visit the moon, but I don't think I'd like to live there.  Though I'd like to look down at the

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1063777736721054232003-09-16T22:37:00.000-07:002003-09-16T22:49:57.520-07:00

My son is 6. He likes explanations to be straightforward and practical. I like this about him. He also trusts every word I say. This I especially like. We live near a railroad where they have parked a life size Thomas the Tank Engine for the week. For some reason, his face is covered up with a blanket when he's off duty. When we were driving home this afternoon, we took a quick detour into the

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1063688150764316542003-09-15T21:44:00.000-07:002003-09-15T22:03:46.213-07:00

Down a bumpy dirt road and along the railroad tracks, and then we arrived at the redwood grove. This is the spot where our friends will get married. My wife and I offered to help them with setting up their wedding, so we went with them to the rehearsal today. We'll be taking care of the ceremony details -- flowers, rose petals and such -- and it's something we've looked forward to doing for a

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1063340950228059092003-09-11T21:27:00.000-07:002003-09-11T21:46:43.236-07:00

After working at a kids' summer camp for two years, and volunteering in my son's classroom, it seems there is a very good explanation why parenting has partially become a pharmaceutical pursuit in America. Without doubt, we over-medicate our children. Generally speaking, we are a pharmaceutical nation. We seek solutions in pill format. And the reasons for why we do this to ourselves are simple:

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1063247404255144202003-09-10T19:05:00.000-07:002003-09-10T19:37:05.466-07:00

A few highlights of today's adventures in the classroom: Of the two kids drawing violent pictures last week, one remains. He greeted me today with, "hey remember me? I'm the violent one." Actually, he's said this a few times this week. It's become our running joke, the way we relate. He's a smart kid. Today, he told me about his adventures dirtbiking, and how his uncle catches salmon in Alaska.

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1063170266012672222003-09-09T22:04:00.000-07:002003-09-09T22:04:25.966-07:00

Ever since helping out last week in my son's class, teaching (and being taught by) the Spanish-speaking kids there, I've had this inclination to finallly learn Spanish. As of today, I'm on Day 6 of teaching myself. I've got three books, 6 CD's, and an entire city of people to practice speaking with. It's kind of ridiculous that I haven't learned Spanish yet. Here I am in Santa Cruz county,

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1062733297437199932003-09-04T20:41:00.000-07:002003-09-04T20:41:37.300-07:00

I watch a tranquil silver ocean Film of fog Soupy gray with rising slivers of seals Warm slickness dipping down into coldness They carouse in kelp and see me standing bundled up on the cliff Misty rain on my face on the cliff face and sprinkled on the whiskered faces of the seals We swim together Separated only by the air in between

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1062634571215031482003-09-03T17:16:00.000-07:002003-09-04T20:44:45.563-07:00

Today was my first day in the first grade -- again! I volunteered to help in the classroom this morning. Definitely a very interesting experience. Imagine 20 kids in a classroom. I knew four of them already -- but that's not much of an advantage. First graders assume that since you are an adult, you know everything. This is not necessarily a good thing. Let it slip that you are more ingorant

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1062485872713841972003-09-01T23:57:00.000-07:002003-09-02T00:02:21.096-07:00

The scope of this blog is changing. This is not a unique phenomenon among bloggers, I've noticed. At some point, they feel a need to move to another level -- what direction, though, varies. Some people feel they have revealed too much personally, so they announce they are starting a new blog at an undisclosed location, available only by special request. Others feel their posts were becoming too

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1062257830703194872003-08-30T08:37:00.000-07:002003-08-30T08:37:10.606-07:00

Scores of Freed Mink Feed on Farm Animals:"'I'm not into anyone running around with fur coats on,' he said. 'But you cannot let 10,000 semicarnivorous animals out without having serious consequences.'"

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1062129536913450702003-08-28T20:58:00.000-07:002003-08-28T21:01:37.320-07:00

...and it was a good one! My son is now an Official First Grader. He loved it. He has a great teacher, two good friends in his class from last year to pal around with, and he's filled with confidence. It's great. We all arrived in as the traditional first-day all-family entourage (my wife, my son and I). The only thing missing was the camera and the obligatory pictures of him with slick hair

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1061976913293298342003-08-27T02:35:00.000-07:002003-08-27T02:56:35.393-07:00

My good friend Will and I were talking today about religion. He's not a Christian, but knew me when I wasn't either, and it's probably because of this that I feel I can speak more honestly with him than with others. As much as I am a Christian and love God, I still view the church warily, filled with the same prejudices as the rest of America. The most prevailing of these prejudices is that the

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1061921548594206242003-08-26T11:12:00.000-07:002003-08-26T11:48:34.876-07:00

We returned a day early from our anniversary trip, because we are picky people. It seems I'm not an expert on bed and breakfasts. I had always assumed the following about a B&B:they are cozy and quietyou get to choose your breakfasta plump little old lady, preferably from England, serves you and chuckles politely, saying things like "my, my"None of these were the case this weekend. Well, to be

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1061620865865522242003-08-22T23:41:00.000-07:002003-08-22T23:41:05.760-07:00

They say you shouldn't count your blessings... or is it that you should? I always forget how that goes. But just reflecting on today reminded me I am "mighty blessed", like the characters would say in Waking Ned Devine. God gave me a million little gifts today. I slept in. That's blessing #1 if there ever was one. My son woke me up and we watched an old Batman episode, the series with Adam West,

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1061443731718280892003-08-20T22:28:00.000-07:002003-08-20T22:28:51.653-07:00

Was anyone besides me already thinking that smoking, stress, and eating lots of fatty foods might increase your risk for heart disease?"Based on these and related findings concerning the major risk factors, we suggest that preventing development of unfavorable levels of blood cholesterol and blood pressure, cigarette smoking, diabetes, and unfavorable body weight (as a precursor of unfavorable

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1061441565322844662003-08-20T21:52:00.000-07:002003-08-20T21:52:45.160-07:00

The ballyhoo about Chief Justice Roy Moore and the Ten Commandments Monument is out of control. Both sides are totally obsessed with their own agenda. First, you've got one side trying to get a monument with the ten commandments removed from the state Supreme Court building, invoking the separation of church and state. Of course, what the Consititution is talking about is that there should never

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1061399284223968602003-08-20T10:08:00.000-07:002003-08-20T10:11:05.183-07:00

This is only the beginning. I don't know if I'm outraged, amused, or just anxiously looking forward to the George Bush Texas Cowboy Action Figure. It must be in development right now. Read the entire description of this political toy, available at KayBee Toy Stores.BBI proudly introduces the latest issue in its Elite Force series of authentic military 12- inch figures, President George W. Bush in

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1061362954358696592003-08-20T00:02:00.000-07:002003-08-20T00:02:34.346-07:00

Contrary to popular belief, you actually have plenty of time right now. It's true! I considered changing the name of this page to STOP CLICKING AND START READING, but again, that's too selfish. I just feel this need to get people to recognize the time they have, and spend it well. It must have been that book, Momo, or James Gleick's Faster, observing that the human world is increasing in speed,

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1061362699359406372003-08-19T23:58:00.000-07:002003-08-20T00:00:55.113-07:00

Sometimes I reread an entry of mine (an essay, you might say) and think "why are there so many words in there?" I'd like to think I'm just being like the king saying to Mozart, "There's too many notes." But really, I feel more like a surgeon doing a liposuction. Why can't I be more succinct? I feel like I should have an alternate link next to the essays I write that offer a shorter summary of

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1061360037087945242003-08-19T23:13:00.000-07:002003-08-19T23:19:28.746-07:00

What do you do when someone on the street asks you for money? A tricky question, but here are some interesting answers. My favorite response (but not because I agree) is Charles Herring's, a member of Northside Baptist Church in Murfressboro, Tennessee: "In this day and time, say no, and move away quickly."Ahh, yes, that's what Jesus would do. Certainly. (sarcasm) There are other ponderous

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1061270922975098222003-08-18T22:28:00.000-07:002003-08-18T22:28:42.970-07:00

"So the little minutes, Humble though they be, Make the mighty ages Of eternity." - Julia Carney

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1061189711411726262003-08-17T23:55:00.000-07:002003-08-18T00:01:43.203-07:00

My Dad said once, "when you're old, all you'll have left are memories." I've wondered about that. What did he mean? Is there any truth in that at all? It was told to me by one of his friends, long after my Dad had passed away. He was 59 when he died, so could he really have known anything about being old? On that point, maybe he did. He drank too much, and it aged him. He had too much time to

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1061052291188897552003-08-16T09:44:00.000-07:002003-08-16T09:44:51.046-07:00

Last night, at midnight exactly, I finished Momo. It's been out of print for a while. I'm convinced it's out of print for the same reason that the movie Wag the Dog is hard to find sometimes. It's one of those rare pieces that is a little too revealing about the dark underbelly of the world-at-large. To prevent too many eyes being opened, it slowly gets suppressed. Momo was written by Michael

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1060892862174708222003-08-14T13:27:00.000-07:002003-08-18T22:50:49.620-07:00

Yesterday was my Dad's birthday. If he were still alive, he'd be 75 years old. It would have been a par-tay. He died when he was 59. Yes, it's been a few years. But there are still moments when I miss him, incredibly. Like Chet Atkins sang: Wind blows through the trees Street lights, they still shine bright Most things are the same But I miss my Dad tonightIt always hits me at an odd time. I go

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1060891545892030162003-08-14T13:05:00.000-07:002003-08-14T13:10:18.186-07:00

Something I wrote for a newsletter today: There has been a lot of talk about prayer in school. It stems from the issue of separation of church and state. When the Constitution was written, the writers wanted to establish a government that did not wield religious power as well, like the Church of England did. This original concept of separation is a legitimate idea, but today it has taken on an

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1060602406358597362003-08-11T04:46:00.000-07:002003-08-11T04:48:58.800-07:00

I haven't written much here the last few days. Again, I feel an obligation, but it seems ridiculous to stop life so that I can write about it. I've rediscovered some old friends lately. They are like diamonds in the crevices of my pocket; I expect nothing but lint, but find rare jewels instead! I'm a firm believer that the only thing of worth in our lives is relationships. Everything else is

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1060369749159017002003-08-08T12:09:00.000-07:002003-08-08T12:12:24.000-07:00

I was concerned when the recall of Gray Davis went from some guy standing in front of Safeway collecting signatures to an actual gubernatorial recall. When Arnold Schwarzenegger said he was considering candidacy for governor, I thought it was funny. When he became a candidate, I was worried. When Bush said, "I think he'd be a good governor", I began to give up hope. But everything changed the

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1060364841348632702003-08-08T10:47:00.000-07:002003-08-08T11:40:58.113-07:00

Let me tell you a story. It's a story about poop, so you've been warned. Yesterday while watching my son at Little Guards on the beach, his uncle came running up to me. His uncle is 6-and-a-half, just a bit older than my son -- just the result of being part of a truly American family, I guess. Anyway, Uncle J ran up and said he had to go the bathroom. I was right in the middle of talking with

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1060314746508465682003-08-07T20:52:00.000-07:002003-08-07T20:52:26.500-07:00

The truth is powerful. It sets us free, as both the Bible and X-Files have said. The pursuit of truth, though, can be a snare. Pascal writes, in his Pensées: We make an idol of truth itself; for truth apart from charity is not God, but His image and idol, which we must neither love nor worship; and still less must we love or worship its opposite, namely, falsehood.The latter part goes without

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1060236949805897162003-08-06T23:15:00.000-07:002003-08-06T23:19:38.203-07:00

Today I came across a website by a guy -- who will remain linkless -- specifying his entire theology, with black and white doctrines across the board. Everything was backed up by scripture, and he was a great logician with great arguments. Of course I disagreed with nearly all of them, but there you go. I'm keeping him linkless because some of what he wrote began to irritate me. Not his position

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1060105861860477402003-08-05T10:51:00.000-07:002003-08-05T10:51:01.700-07:00

I just got an email from an old friend (well, he's not old, but our friendship is). It's been 7 or 8 years since we last saw each other or talked, and so we're going through the filling-in phase. There's all the usual talk about getting married, or kids, or jobs, or old acquaintances. There was also talk about faith, and that is always my favorite part, because I get to selfishly relive my

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1060066894291723862003-08-05T00:01:00.000-07:002003-08-05T00:01:34.270-07:00

This evening, I realized that everyone must do the following: #1: Watch the film Manufacturing Consent, a Noam Chomsky and mass media primer. #2: Strive to be as wonderful as my wife. Let's face it: she's simply an amazing woman! That is all.

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1059978683611422252003-08-03T23:31:00.000-07:002003-08-03T23:31:23.603-07:00

Sometimes I feel the need to blog just because I haven't blogged in a little while. I don't have a topic, or an idea, or even a clue. Just some sort of vague obligation to put something down in writing. But this sparks an idea now. Is there something built into humans that makes them strive to accomplish something? We feel a need to do something every once in a while, but really, if we had no

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1059803767966909322003-08-01T22:56:00.000-07:002003-08-01T23:04:30.963-07:00

Today I watched my son at Junior Lifeguards. It was his fifth day. It's billed as a sort of an Ocean Safety Cub Scout kind of program that puts you on track to becoming a Lifeguard one day. In reality, it is a no-holds-barred, social survival-of-the-fittest for 6 to 8 year olds. It is also the realm of The Bad Kid. I would like to step in sometimes when it gets out of control, but I understand

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1059411966482013832003-07-28T10:06:00.000-07:002003-07-28T10:13:45.533-07:00

I saw my friend Dave yesterday, after church. I haven't seen him in months, and on my way to church I left a message on his cell, one of those hey-let's-hang-out messages, but with an undertone of urgency. I miss him, and he's a friend who has been choosing everything but God lately. He and I met a few years ago, working together at a Christian camp. We really had little in common at first. He

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1059323868474446502003-07-27T09:37:00.000-07:002003-07-27T09:43:48.750-07:00

Father, Thank you. You deliver me over, and over, and over. I'm a free man now. I was a slave just by inheritance, just born into it, and you paid the ransom to set me free. But I'm so well practiced in being a slave to sin, that something draws me back to my life of old slavery. How can I go back? That person's dead, killed by sin, and I'll instead embrace this new gift you've given me, a new

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1059290669945494122003-07-27T00:24:00.000-07:002003-07-27T00:32:10.660-07:00

It's late Saturday night, but the blogger will say it's Sunday. But there's still time to get my daily thought in, and it's totally mundane. Driving up today to the camp where I used to work reminded me of the many animals I have seen in the road, just waiting to be automotive targets. I'd prefer that they just stay off the roads completely, but alas, I have seen many. It's not their fault,

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1059186714218438482003-07-25T19:31:00.000-07:002003-07-25T19:31:54.130-07:00

Now, I can get into a great discussion with someone about why God allows suffering. It's a popular subject, and has been for thousands of years. There's even a special word for it: theodicy. So when someone comes to me about a death, or a breakup, or a sudden terrible change in their lives, I am there for them, ready to show them that at every point, suffering turns us towards God, where we know

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1059081761144725982003-07-24T14:22:00.000-07:002003-07-25T19:15:18.530-07:00

Little by little, postmodern thinking has slowly erased morals that have lasted thousands of years. I just read another article about this (thanks to saint some days for posting the link). You can read the full text of the article here. It's all about cohabitation not really being that as bad as everyone says. The part of the article that really disturbed me is this: In other words, the sexual

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1059030679053942592003-07-24T00:11:00.000-07:002003-07-24T00:15:27.183-07:00

Today was a day of lows and highs. It started so miserably, and ended so wonderfully. I couldn't get any lower this morning when I woke up. Everything pointed away from God in my mind. I felt lost and far from anything important. And then a simple email from my friend Malcolm began the change, and everything began to get better. It was so simple. He and I had "email fellowship", for lack of a

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1058944280414481202003-07-23T00:11:00.000-07:002003-07-23T00:11:20.386-07:00

I forget. Always. Events disappear so quickly, leaving no impression on my squishy brain but a vague wisp of memory. And even that wisp evaporates as time goes on. When I see a movie, I can remember the plot and imagery for at least a week. After a month, it's gone. A year later, I've completely forgotten that I've seen it before. I forget things I did on a certain day. My wife, on the other

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1058856997070153052003-07-21T23:56:00.000-07:002003-07-21T23:57:04.760-07:00

Thanks to Hammerdown for this one: "I think all foreigners should stop interfering in the internal affairs of Iraq," said [U.S. Deputy Defense Secretary] Wolfowitz, who is touring the country to meet U.S. troops and Iraqi officials.He better copyright that quip so he can collect the royalties when it's published in future Dictionaries of American Quotations.

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1058760224047386972003-07-20T21:03:00.000-07:002003-07-20T21:04:18.670-07:00

Every time I open the fridge, on the top shelf I see a dark brown object about the size of an avocado with the words "LIVE GRENADE". Actually, it says "Olive Tapenade". It's a tasty spread, great on pasta. In fact, it tastes much better than a live grenade (I assume), but nevertheless no matter how ridiculous it would be to find anything with the words Live Grenade, my brain always registers it

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1058564061942982562003-07-18T14:34:00.000-07:002003-07-18T14:36:19.180-07:00

Today is my wife's birthday! We remembered the presents, flowers, and cake, but apparently I didn't remember the balloons. This was pointed out by my son, to my wife, as is usually the case for any of my shortcomings. My son likes to make sure everyone is informed (if he passes gas in a noisy room where no one can hear, he always loudly points out "EXCUSE ME, I FARTED."). So when my wife came

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1058422392598962342003-07-16T23:13:00.000-07:002003-07-16T23:17:56.256-07:00

"I'll see you in an hour." "How about next week?" "Just a minute...." "Can you wait a second?" Time infects our conversations. It is a tick-tocking standard that we take for granted. There is always an invisible pendulum swinging over our heads like the sword of Damocles. However, here's a shock: the phrases above are new phrases. We hear them all the time (all the time! ha!), but no one was

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1058255840831013832003-07-15T00:57:00.000-07:002003-07-15T00:57:20.666-07:00

Finally someone has the guts to take apart a Magic 8-ball and even see what the eerie blue liquid inside tastes like! (hint: don't try it at home).

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1058246147048115452003-07-14T22:15:00.000-07:002003-07-14T22:19:12.080-07:00

My son just turned 6. Before that, he was 5 and 7/8ths. He wanted to know where he was at, since he was 5 and 3/4ths and knew it had been quite some time, so he figured that there had to be some kind of updated numerical indication of being closer to 6. Myself, I'm nearing 30. I can lump myself in to the 30 crowd when talking with them about aging and getting certain new kinds of fun medical

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1058169589415894182003-07-14T00:59:00.000-07:002003-07-14T01:04:45.496-07:00

Our awareness of the passage of time must be measured in one of two ways: the accumulated and estimated length between any two events, or a more intuitive consciousness of the actual rate. Regarding the second, most would argue that the rate of time is a fixed value. It doesn't lag or jolt; it simply maintains a steady inarguable rate. But do we really all regard the passage of time as a steady

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1057990004719273432003-07-11T23:06:00.000-07:002003-07-14T01:01:05.900-07:00

I want to write about time -- except I'm going to bed now and would rather do it in the morning. The premises though, so I don't forget, are: context determines paceexponential increase in rate of accretionsocial expectation of time-per-eventinverse relationship between experience and optimism about subsequence That is all. Tomorrow I write! Or maybe later....

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1057886429516072452003-07-10T18:20:00.000-07:002003-07-10T18:22:51.433-07:00

This is one of those times I wish I had cable. I'd be able to watch the recent hijinks at the Milwaukee Brewers stadium, when Pittsburgh Pirates' first baseman Randall Simon made history. MILWAUKEE (AP) -- Pittsburgh Pirates first baseman Randall Simon got a grilling from prosecutors and was let off with a $432 fine Thursday after bopping a woman dressed as a giant sausage with his bat. Simon

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1057814804031899552003-07-09T22:26:00.001-07:002003-07-09T22:32:52.440-07:00

Happy B-day Little Man! By the way, Little Man explained that when he turned 6 today, the 5 went all the way up to the moon. It stayed there, then it bounced back down. Then it landed on a 4 guy and turned him into 5. Well, something like that. It's hard for me to stay focused when Little Man's theories are more complicated then Einstein's.

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1057814762867470462003-07-09T22:26:00.000-07:002003-07-09T22:26:02.803-07:00

What am I doing posting LlamaCams and Neopet Mr. T's?! Just when I'm telling everyone to check out the blog, I can't even manage to write a decent article. Isn't there enough to write about? The Iranian conjoined twins? President Bush admitting to pulling a Baron Munchhausen about the uranium in Africa? Couldn't I just cut-and-paste some stuff from The Smoking Gun or something? Well, my

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1057766826712532072003-07-09T09:07:00.000-07:002003-07-10T18:28:17.216-07:00

Only recently is the llama finally getting the attention it deserves. "Emperor's New Groove" brought a new level of llama awareness to our world, but even then, the movie rarely focuses on a real llama. Cuzco is simply a man with a llama's body -- and we all agree that there's more to a llama than his wool. I've posted this LlamaCam link so that more people can begin to understand the majesty

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1057704859001313072003-07-08T15:54:00.000-07:002003-07-08T15:54:18.976-07:00

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1057561114164674862003-07-06T23:58:00.000-07:002003-07-06T23:58:34.150-07:00

Most Americans seem to think that the conflict is over in Iraq. This, despite the fact that a U.S. soldier is killed in Iraq every day on average; despite the fact that the New York Times has a permanent section in the daily paper to report who was killed. It seems that those people who are aware of the occasional casualty see it as a responsibility of securing the country. For those in Iraq who

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1057559619334824112003-07-06T23:33:00.000-07:002003-07-06T23:33:39.303-07:00

For those of you who love swimming, especially near Chile, you might want to read this recent CNN article. Let me simply quote this part: The specimen, which remains on the beach, looks like a huge lumpy piece of slippery rubber in the shape of a squashed elephant.All I'm saying is wear a wetsuit.

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1057555511411913912003-07-06T22:25:00.000-07:002003-07-06T22:28:30.323-07:00

Today in a great message on grace, our pastor wanted to point out the significance of the Torah (the Law) to those who are in Christ Jesus. Obviously, he illustrated it with the Karate Kid. Many wonder why God's approach seems to change from Old to New Testament. Why would God be wrathful and sometimes seem petty, and then become a God of love who turns the other cheek? It's because of this:

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1057471057205752222003-07-05T22:57:00.000-07:002003-07-05T22:57:37.006-07:00

The latest InStyle magazine has an ad for Botox, the newest wrinkle-reduction fad. It has a happy, wrinkle-free couple smiling at each other, with the caption: We promised to grow old together, not look old together. Botox is, of course, the Botulinum Toxin Type A. It causes botulism, or "sausage poisioning" as Justinus Kerner called it when observing the food poisoning epidemic in Stuttgart in

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1057466686351317062003-07-05T21:44:00.000-07:002003-07-05T21:53:53.456-07:00

I'm not the only one, but receiving the following email once again heightened my appreciation for the fine delicacies that spam can be. Greetings, We need a vendor who can offer immediate supply. I'm offering $5,000 US dollars just for referring a vender which is (Actually RELIABLE in providing the below equipment) Contact details of vendor required, including name and phone #. If they turn out

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1057339178013461182003-07-04T10:19:00.000-07:002003-07-05T21:51:28.436-07:00

"Sudden change we call disaster; gradual change we call growth." -- J.B.

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286269.post-1057126531924482802003-07-01T23:15:00.000-07:002003-07-01T23:18:14.450-07:00

When my wife got home from work today, I decided that I would use all my energy (that I had cleverly stored up by remaining in bed all day) and try to be a worthwhile and possibly interesting member of the household. She had worked all day -- I had rested in bed. My first gift to her was the gift of a clean husband. I showered and even shaved. My second gift to her was to get the bazillion wads

Kevinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02536628847853689630noreply@blogger.com