flight of the conchords

it had me at the rhymenoceros. i've been wanting to see this show for a while now and just got done watching my first episode.

i very much look forward to developing a fondness for it.

king of the road

after a long day of work andy, my fellow reconstructer, and i embarked upon a long and arduous journey through the mean streets of nashville to the friendly confines that is our brentwood baptist home. traffic would be horendous that fateful day as traffic slowed to a halt numerous times on our voyage home. i suppose the traffic congestion could be credited to the fact that there was a wreck on nearly every major interstate.

tired and sun-beaten, we fled from the interstate onto less crowded streets only to find so many tired souls with the same idea.

again, we halted.

yet fate would shine on us this day, brightly with a vibrant pallet of colors. we would be treated to what i would call, easily, the greatest exercise routine known to man (with the possible exception of j'arming, the conductor's secret to a long and healthy life).

andy and i looked on with childlike glee and enthusiasm as a man danced his way down the street. it was as much as a shuffle as anything but he worked in a mighty fine moonwalk several times as we looked upon him in wonder. the man was clad in less than flattering blue shorts, a skin tight yellow tank-top, a yellow sweat band and enormous sunglasses. he carried his cd player close to his chest as it pumped out what i can only assume were motivational jams. here is an "artist" interpretation:
as this magnificant person shimmied his way down the road, he would continually point (in rythym mind you) to all of the following: the road, the sidewalk, passing motorists, stationary motorists, debree, restaraunts and a police officer.
for the, roughly, mile and a half that we kept pace with him, a senior citizen shimmying machine, i could not be anything but delighted with the life with which God has blessed me. he brought joy to my heart.

andy and i agreed that if there were more men like this on our nation's road systems, road rage would be no more. in light of that thought, i am developing a proposal for tdot which suggests the employment of various movers and shakers to patrol our good state's roadways to spread good cheer during the slowest of traffic days. i feel like this is the start of change. revolution is in the air.

pinball

as an ambivert (1/2 extravert, 1/2 intravert), i require an odd balance of community and solitude. i feel as though that balance has been attacked.

part of my reconstruct job requires me to sleep at the church with the teams of middle and high schoolers there for the week. sleeping at the church is quite odd. meandering through the halls in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom is even stranger.

for the most part it has been great. i love the work reconstruct does, not to mention how they go about doing it. the people i am working with are great. it has been fun.

i just haven't had the time to sit and do nothing, that downtime i so greatly cherish. my mind has longed for the chance to just rome free, to entertain the myriad of ideas that run through it. i am adjusting to it but it is taking a little time.

i think i am starting to want some stability in my life. i'm wanting to get rooted in something and start living. i've been wanting that for a while, praying for that for a while. it just isn't coming. God, at least i'm hoping, has me in this strange little threshold place.

it feels like pinball. i should note that i really don't care for that game. but that is how my life has been the last 3+ years. i've been knocked into one thing, got caught up in it for a while, spun around and spat out into another little doo-dad. sometimes they have shining lights and make funny noises. sometimes they are incredibly boring. but for the most part they leave me dizzy.

i just can't manage to see straight. i can't manage to get an answer. i can't manage to get going.

perhaps that is why i don't like pinball: there is no real goal. i've never been interested in points. i've been interested in progress, in moving forward. in pinball, you can't really win. you can't really move forward. you just go back and forth from one thing to another, never really settling down all the while trying to just stay afloat, trying to stay in play, trying to stay out of the gutter.

at the very least, i'm still in play. i'm still looking for some escape from the machine. i need out. i have this fear that i'm stuck here. i'm so very grateful for the experiences, for the things i've been able to do, places i've gone and people i've met. i can't say that enough. i am genuinely grateful. but i need something. i just have no idea what that is.

i apologize if this came off as a sort of whiny quarter-life crisis post, something not unlike a zach braff movie. but truth be told, i've talked to a lot of people who seem to be on their last quarter that feel the same way. ahh, the great release of incoherent blogging. i'd almost forgotten how strange it feels.

donald

yesterday ended the first week of my summer stint with reconstruct. i must say that i enjoyed the experience in spite of the fact that i wasn't able to read or sleep very much.

the week after easter i helped with a team that came in from washington state put on a few roofs. the home owner at one of the sites was named donald and i got to know him fairly well. this past week we had a crew paint his house so i made sure to stop by to see how he was doing.

donald told us in april that his stepson had murdered his birth son and then took his own life. as you can imagine, it had effected him quite badly. he would tear up whenever he mentioned him. donald does have one other son.

several times during the course of each week he made mention of things he and that son had done. he showed us the new patio set that his son had bought for him, told me about the time last year they went to see the fireworks at riverfront park and about how his son was trying to get him to go with them again this year. when he would tell me these things i would get the sense that he wasn't exactly being truthful. there was something about the way he spoke about these things that didn't seem right.

unfortunately, they weren't true. his son refuses to talk to him and will not see him. donald made it up so we wouldn't know. i could make guesses about why he did lie. i can understand, to a degree, why he lied. i suppose i've done and continue to do that too.

most of us care deeply about other people's perception of us. we want to be thought normal, or intelligent, or funny, or popular, or a good miny-golfer, or a good listener or somebody who cares more about other people than themselves or somebody who _____.

it is those few who don't seem to care that throw me off. they are who they are and that is all they know how to be. some times this is refreshing. sometimes you wished they would pretend at the very least to care (they probably do in reality).

i'd like to think that i've moved beyond this, that i'm a pretty genuine person. i think for the most part i am. but i still have those moments when i become something i'm not for whatever reason. so i understand donald wanting us to think that he and his son have a normal relationship, that his son would by a gift for the father he loves.

i understand the front, but it won't do him or any of us a bit of good. it won't build community for one of the loneliest people i've come to know. it won't alleviate the pain of his relationships with his sons. it will build up inside of him and hurt more.

i couldn't tell you how many times i've heard the classic advice of 'just be yourself.' i'm just now seeing how hard that really is for just about everybody. maybe we're scared that our self isn't good enough. thank God our self is good enough for Him. we don't have to create this perfect, utopian person to present before him. he comes to us as the wrecks we are, without prejudice. that is amazing to me.

young love

today, while driving in the reconstruct expedition, a pertinent song from my past bellowed through the spacious interior. it is safe to say that my fearless vocal performance was less than perfect. i was, indeed, a bit pitchy.

the song, since you're probably wondering, was foreigner's "i want to know what love is." the vocal range of this song takes me a bit past my comfort zone, a comfort zone i'll leave only for songs that lead me into wistful joy.

this song just happens to be the first and only "song" i've ever had in a relationship. in seventh grade (the beginning of the two-year period of my life which i classify as my 'prime') i was dating the head cheerleader, whitney wiggins. i must also mention that she was in eighth grade at the time, an older woman. as the song ended, it made me quite happy that i have moved beyond the awkwardness of my early relationships and into a new awkwardness which has been at the forefront of every relationship since.

the irony of it all is that i'm still not sure i know what love actually is. perhaps listening to cheesy power ballads will help speed that along. bands like journey and boston will be my new teachers as i search for it. i will learn of love as i sing in falsetto with frizzy haired men from the past.

cleansing

the other day i was told by two people that they were tired of reading that i stunk. the only purpose of this post is to declare myself clean and smelling delightfully like the springs of ireland.

i smell much like garbage

today i left my house at 8:45 am to begin work. it is now 4 am exactly and i just got home (i haven't even showered yet).

in my exhaustion, i've had the most profound thoughts of my life. the sad thing is that the only thing i can remember is that the thoughts i've had are profound.

taargus. taargus.

this evening i stopped by target on my way home. when i came out to my car, i found a note under my windshield wiper. at first, i assumed somebody had hit my car. this was not the case. i soon discovered some interesting news. the note read as follows:

"your wife's new legal name is Taargus. Taargus."

needless to say, i was both shocked and relieved. it lead me to some serious metaphysical questioning, due in large part that i am now and have always been without wife.

i could not stop my mind from entertaining the crazy ideas that went through my head on the lovely drive home. i could assume that somebody was having fun with me as part of some grassroots movement many hip youth are involved with- which is most likely the case- but i would rather believe that it was intended for a real person and mistakenly given to me. either way, i am happy to have received it.

there are two things which make me appreciate this note. the first is the fact that my wife has a new legal name of which i am unaware and the idea that this news would have been delivered in anonymity via a note under the wiper of a car.

the second thing is that they felt the need to repeat the last name. taargus. taargus. undoubtedly written so as to promote perfect clarity. they wanted it to sink in and they wanted me to know that this was indeed her new legal name.

for much of the ride home, i found myself repeating that name: taargus, taargus, taargus and so on and so forth. i began to believe it to be true. i couldn't help but ask myself why she couldn't just tell me she had a new name. i can only assume it is a new marriage that brought about this change. i would have liked to hear it from her. i feel she owes me that. did our marriage mean nothing? taargus......... taargus. i would have been fine with it. i'm learning to live without her. taargus............ i guess it really is over. this confirms it. she's moved on. and i'm in the same place. taargus..... taargus. at any rate, i'm happy for her. i guess. she's living her life. that's all any of us can do. taargus, just what kind of name is taargus?

curiosity is strong in me. i googled taargus. my findings were strange, disconcerting and involved myspace (a place i do not tread often and for good reason). i believe that name might be uzbeki.

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there is no future

over the last few months and weeks this blog has been moving forward at a very sad and dismal pace. for that i apologize. i've come to the point where i know i must either hang it up or change my approach to it.

when i started this endeavor back in january of 2006, my intentions were to keep people informed about my time in moldova. it served that purpose well and began to serve other purposes i hadn't intended, such as giving me an outlet to discuss cereal eating techniques/methods, saved by the bell, michael bolton and also serving as something i could discuss the amazing joys and even more amazing struggles that come in the service of the God that sits on the throne of grace.

admittedly, i've lost a great deal of motivation to keep posting random ideas, randomly. i've pondered, lately, why that has been. tonight, with the help of martin buber's i and Thou and a couple of conversations i've had with jay strother, i feel like i've come to a bit of a conclusion.

i've been caught up with the future. what am i going to do next? what is the next step in the service of Christ's church? these are the questions i've been asking. these are the questions i've been asked.... a lot.

they are good and fair questions. i am not arguing with that. but i've been wrapped up in them. i've been captivated by them, hounded by them, frustrated with them (or by my lack of an answer to them) and i've grown tired of them. but again, they are good and fair questions.

it just dawned on me with abnormal simplicity and clarity tonight that the future rarely if ever teaches us. actually, let me restate this: the future doesn't teach us anything. to a degree, the future doesn't even exist-only in the promises of God.

my friend, houston, enjoys proclaiming the non-existence of potential energy. i enjoy bringing it up and find myself agreeing. physicists will debate us and use facts, data and what have you but we use passion- something i find to be a great deal more convincing.

i'm starting to throw the future into that same boat. the future doesn't exist unless it is happening (which makes it the present) or until it has happened (which makes it the past). it is a constant hypothetical, a mere possibility - if back to the future II taught us anything, it taught us this.
this unsupported argument should explain the title of this post and hopefully let you know that it is not a cry for help or a declaration of the hopelessness in the wasteland in which we live.

no, instead this is a plea. it is a plea to myself most of all, a plea to get out of the nonexistent future. it's a plea to get out of our five-year plans. it's a plea to get out of our fears of future failures or even successes.

it is a plea to meet God right now, right here or there (as you sit reading this). we spend too much time worrying about tomorrow, about what we will eat or wear (mt 6). God calls us to the present, to live for his purposes now. the past is gone and the future is only a philiosophical concept.

however, we do have a future, a glorious future, rather, inheritance. but in the paraphrased words of stanley grenz (possibly): 'let us live our lives now as we will one day become.' that hope is stored up and hidden in Christ for us (I peter 1, colossians 3). the kingdom of God is in the here and now as well as the eternal.

and it is in light of that i strive to live.

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i am going to continue this blog. but it is going to change. it has lacked purpose for a while. i am going to try to write something more in the vain of little essays. i need something to hold me accountable to productive and challenging thought. i have yet to determine what the regularity of it will be. i'd like to do at least two a month but have no set schedule as of now. what i do not want to do is what i've been doing lately: just posting something random so i don't have a bagel in the monthly archive.

thank you for reading and also to those of you who have commented both on this blog and in person about it. i hope this renewed vigor will prove mutually helpful. Godspeed

lost

as my blog slowly moves into a seldom-used keeper of random and mostly obscure thoughts, i decided i would write about the one television show i make a point of viewing: Lost. i will preface this post by declaring that i am long past the stage of trying to figure out what is going on. i have become purely an observer. i do not theorize, i do not make detailed charts and graphs about the show and i do not feel the pressure to do so. i will say this: it isn't pergatory. please stop telling me it is.

well, this week's episode was outstanding. this week was also the first week that i almost didn't get to see it.

i am working with reconstruct this summer http://reconstruct.org/ and this past week we had a group from seattle. i was staying with them at brentwood baptist. yeah, i slept in the church. it was a bit strange, especially walking to the shower with a towel, my little bathroom tote and flip flops. i felt a little like mr. belding when he and becky had fallen into a little rough patch and slater found him in the bathroom while mr. b was living at bayside.

the week was fantastic. but as it went on, i feared that i might not be able to watch lost. luckily the group went to a farm or something wednesday and didn't come back till after the show was over. that is most of them didn't come back until the show was over.

in the middle of the show, i got a call from one of the group's leaders telling me two of the guys were outside of the church and that i needed to let them in. so i waited until a commercial break and sprinted from dennis worley's office (a big thank you to mr. worley for letting me watch it in his office), to door 11 to let the kids in. i shook hands with their parents had them say their goodbye's and then made them sprint with me back to dennis' office.

we made it without missing a word of dialogue. but it turned out that they had never seen the show. so the next commercial break, i explained- in as much detail as was necessary- the entire plots of season 1, season 2 and got them current on season 3 with a little bit of character plots thrown in for good measure. i felt like the micro-machines guy explaining it.

this event really heightened my enjoyment of the episode not to mention the fact that there were so many answers given and the bonus of the last minute's punch to the gut.

truthfully, i wouldn't mind this show enjoying the type of run that friends or seinfielf or even the simpsons have enjoyed.

happy birthday mom

today i witnessed a man with a shaved-bald head wearing a hairnet.

it did not seem needed.

i'm fairly certain it was required of the law since he was in a bakery (working, he wasn't a patron). it stuck with me for a while. i suppose the reason for that is daylight saving time.

i'd like to go on the record as saying that i oppose daylight saving. daylight should be lost like so many keys, remotes & common men's dignity.

if history serves me right, i believe it was benjamin franklin who thought this deplorable ritual. although that man did much for his fellow man- bifocals, flexible catheters, the glass harmonica & the studies of refrigeration, electricity and, of course, kite flying- i feel that he could of refrained from ever mentioning daylight saving.

now don't get me wrong, i do enjoy falling back. why wouldn't i? but springing forward is of the devil. if the good people of the world would like to enjoy the sun longer, let them get up earlier. just don't disturb my sleeping habits. also, don't make me late for things, or uncomfortably early. and most of all, don't make me attempt to change my various clocks and watches, especially the watches.

we're told, by the 'experts,' that daylight savings saves electricity. more and more each day, i trust experts less. this brings me back to my first observation. somewhere there is an expert or even experts who decided that hair nets would prevent unwanted hair from infiltrating all types of foods, including pastries and the like. this is true. but they go to far and mandate that all people working in the bakery must wear hairnets. thus this man is forced to wear a hair net over his hairless head. there is no reason that this man should be wearing this thing.

unless of couse he likes the hairnet. which is what i'm saying about daylight saving time.

daylight saving time is just fine. but it shouldn't be forced upon us all, only those with hair in the food preperation business who like to enjoy as much sun as they can while cutting back on their usage of electricity.

why don't we just take off or put on, from the actual time, 30 minutes and leave it alone.

a month and change

for some reason i have become a binge/purge writer. i fear this to be a character trait since i have long carried this habit as a reader.

i have also noticed that i am particularly fickle in the area of my facial hair. it seems i cannot commit to any one form of whiskery. this could be in part to my portly state of being. without fail, the removal of my beard (as it did just this week) will lead me to wonder at my small collection of chins, a collection which now leads me to believe that not having a beard will eventually lead me to a thinner and ultimately healthier lifestyle due to the unpleasantness that accompanies any gaze at my reflection. i hope this to be a hypothesis which will prove itself true.

now, there is a reason i'm writing this evening. yes, there was some inspiration, a muse that begat this post. that muse be chuck klosterman and his book of deconstructive pop-culture prose, sex, drugs & cocoa puffs. in this book of essays, klosterman analyzes subject matter that ranges from billy joel's artistic merit to the importance of saved by the bell (an obvious reason for my initial attraction to it).

i am aware that most of the people who will read this (most being about 4 out of the 5 to 7 people who do read this from time to time) started reading this because i was living in moldova doing mission work and might be surprised that i would read a book with 'sex' & 'drugs' in the title. i will also say that if this book was rated using the movie rating system we all seem to be familiar with, it would be rated 'R' for language mostly (outside of that it is pretty much pg-13). that being said, i really enjoyed reading it.

klosterman managed to give meaning to seemingly meaningless topics. at the very least he tried to thoughtfully look at things we mostly thoughtlessly ingest. as a christian, i even found some of his insights to be quite pertinent to my spiritual life and thought that the church could benefit from some of his observations. in fact, had some scripture been thrown in, the language and more risky subject matter been toned down, and of course some simple faith revelations been inserted, this book would be something hip & 'emergent' christians would proudly display on both their bookshelves and tables at the starbucks in which they are reading it (right next to their copies of 'velvet elvis' and anything written by donald miller. yes, it is that type of book, a quasi-pomo (almost postmodern if you prefer) work that is quite engaging but makes things much more important than they probably are.

perhaps, that is why i enjoyed it. i am either in a place where i am making things much more important than they are or not making things important enough. either way i have felt somewhat disengaged with the world around me as of late. i don't quite feel connected to anything, or for that matter, anybody at this time. i don't mean this to sound as if i'm depressed. i'm not. i just feel disconnected.

there is a great part of me that would like to blame this on my time in moldova. i don't mean blame here in a negative sense. i simply mean it in the sense of causation. it has been over 5 months that i've been home. i'm not sure that i did a good job re-entering the world i'm currently in. there is a sense of liminality in my life right now. it can feel as though i'm not really anywhere. i'm just living.

but i can't just live. that will kill me.

i need to be engaged in something, be challenged by something, be something. it has been very hard to be passionate about anything. i hate that.

there is a good part of me that fears that life could become that and that i could just become the type of person who never looks beyond surface of anything i see. perhaps i am envying that characteristic of klosterman. the things we all consider mundane, he looks at with an earnest desire for meaning.

i remember somebody telling me that somebody like john piper, if not him, said something to the effects of this: if you can't see God's glory in a morning cup of orange juice, then you're missing it entirely. i suppose that's true to some extent. but i feel like the reason that has stuck with me is because i can't.

i really have trouble with that. orange juice comes from oranges from a tree from the soil of the earth God created in a incredibly divine and holy moment. and i suppose that the creation of that agricultural system of progression, in God's providence, speaks of His great love and omniscience in a way that is profoundly spiritual and moving. i'm sure there is beauty in that. i just seem to notice the level of pulp, whether it be too much or too little.

perhaps that is why i feel disconnected: because i look at cup of orange juice and see pulp and the certain unpleasantness that comes with it after i've brushed my teeth.

i'm just tired of it. i'm tired of feeling so garbled and scattered. i'm thankful for the growth and learning i've had over the last year or two. i just want to live life more richly, more abundantly, with less of a gut and as soon as possible.