Feeling Left Behind?

A Thief in the Night I’m blaming Bill Kinnon for this post, since he’s the one who sent me the YouTube video below. At first I was concerned that a Larry Norman song might be parodied, but then I realized that it was a commentary on the times, which as anyone who was there will recall, were oh-so-Hal-Lindsay. And that about sums it up. My eschatology has changed somewhat, and I no longer consider it very loving to attempt to scare the hell out of people. You can get people to pray anything if they’re terrified enough. Anyway. I was thinking back to some *coughh4ck$plUttergh* years ago when I was working at summer camp (yes, it’s disturbing but true). Another guy and I were doing double-duty as “wranglers” in the stable and also  policing  counseling a cabin of younger boys. One evening after the scheduled activities, we had to send the kids back to get ready for bed on their own (normally you supervise everything) and they did fairly well. Except for one thing… when we got back to the cabin, we discovered the kids had been talking about this movie, A Thief in the Night. Yeah, you remember.

Tappity-Tappity-Tappity …Voila!

Underwood This image, for all you kinderbloggers out there, is called a “typewriter.” You see, back in days of yore, in the “olden days”, computers hadn’t been invented, and when they were finally invented, they filled entire sterile rooms with vacuum tubes, which were little devices we used before transistors and diodes, which meant among other things that it took 90 seconds from the time you turned your radio on until the sound came out. You also didn’t want to drop your radio on the floor… but I digress. Back in these olden days of yore before computer ubiquity, we used these typewriter contraptions with mechanical actions that forced a little “arm” to strike a piece of paper through a carbonized ribbon when you struck a key. Bold? Strike the key a little harder. Edit? Argh. Those erasers always sucked… sometimes it was easier to start over or strikeout your text, depending whether or not it was a your final copy or a rough draft.

Win Some, Lose Some… & the MBTI Inverse Zodiac

Chess Pieces I’m battling a cold at the moment… my wife is blaming germs picked up on my trip last week. She’s probably right, she’s like that. Typically right, I mean. Which is a good introduction to the other thing she said yesterday. Last week I was talking about masculinity and gender and what it means to be a Man™. I had pre-posted it to appear while I was traveling, but on the idea that sometimes men just don’t know what it is that women want from us, I dropped in a few questions about what a “real man” was. A few people riffed on it on their own blogs, and there were some good comments. But my favorite, of course, was my wife’s, yesterday. I’m in the kitchen, (mostly) minding my own business, and in response to something I said, she whirled around, jabbed her finger in the air in my general direction, and said, “Okay, that’s a man!” I was somewhat stunned, but now I have the answer.

Seabeck Interlude

Seabeck Satellite Photo
We’re in the midst of our conversations around a missional order here at Seabeck. It’s a beautiful little spot on Seabeck Bay near Puget Sound, pictured above through the eyes of Google. Thus far it’s been great to meet some people I’ve talked with on the phone or via email only, and to see again people I’ve met before but don’t get to see in person that often. The conversation is shaping up nicely, and the group of people here is rapidly becoming one of no-longer-strangers. On Monday evening I was standing in a group of five guys that included Andrew (Tall Skinny Kiwi) Jones and Rick (The Blind Beggar) Meigs, watching them piece together my name tag (which doesn’t say “Brother Maynard”) with my blog. The five of us decided to go in search of a pub with decent taps, and by the time we were piling into a car, we were joined by to more carloads of people that included Mark and Jeanette Priddy and Bill and Imbi Kinnon and others. You can click on the image above to view a Google map and search around for the little town nearby (Silverdale) where we got bounced from two different bars when they tried to card Imbi. Mark helpfully ran across the street to find a bar that promised not to card her, and we were set.