Into The Labyrinth

Leading up to Easter our church does a worship labyrinth. I decided I would be a part of it this year. I've always wanted to do it, but never been able to before. Here's the description of it from the church:

Open your eyes, ears and hearts to an encounter with God. Experience the
Village Worship Labyrinth, an awesome devotional experience that
will help you draw closer to Him. The Worship Labyrinth is a
personal journey with eight stations where you can stop and spend
time with the Lord. This multi-sensory experience will give you time to let
go of the busyness, hurts and distractions that can spoil your relationship
with God.

I have to admit I was a little afraid. The last time I went into a labyrinth was in Oakhurst, California, and it was for a Halloween event. There were big walls built out of black garbage bags hanging on pvc pipe. I had made it most of the way through with minimal frights, but then this one vampire had a cape made out of black garbage bags. He was standing in a corner with his back to us, and when he turned around my stomach tried to crawl out my mouth. Luckily all the screaming got out first, so I had time to fix that.

The only other association I have with Labyrinth (until yesterday) was the strange Jim Henson movie from 1986. So I was a little concerned that I might run into something like this in the maze:

Anyway, those were the thoughts I had going in. Oh, also, when Yoda sends Luke Skywalker into that tree that is strong in the dark side of the Force and he tells him that he won't need his lightsaber. Then Darth Vader comes out of the shadows and attacks him. Creepy.

So, I got to Village for my scheduled appointment for the Labyrinth, and our worship pastor, Dean, was there giving people the talk to prepare them for their experience. He calmed my fears. Since I didn't have a lightsaber, I left my cell phone, wallet and house keys in the truck and my shoes outside the labyrinth.

The labyrinth was set up in the main sanctuary... Dean and his minions had removed all the pews and replaced it with the outline of a labyrinth, with eight different stops along the way.

The way in was all about preparing yourself to meet with and hear from God. I felt Christ beside me the whole way, inviting me to come to the center to meet with him. I put the hood of my sweatshirt up because I am too easily distracted, which made me feel a little bit like a monk.

At the center of the labyrinth stood a table with bread and juice for communion. I sat there and prayed for a long time, and I experienced his presence in a powerful way. I spoke clearly with him, and heard clear responses from him. He prayed a blessing over me. I didn't want to leave, but he told me that I couldn't just stay there in the center of the labyrinth, that the personal transformations we experience at his feet can and must cause transformation in the people and society around us. And the second half of the labyrinth helped drive those points home.

I wish I could write out the precise conversation I had with Christ in the labyrinth, and some of the details of that hour, but I'm not sure this blog is an appropriate place, where I can make it clearly understood without making it seem like some strange, outsized thing. I will settle for saying that this was certainly a moment in my, life where I experienced Christ's presence, one of those moments I could point to and say, "Of course Christ is real, of course he is an actual person."

Inevitably I am disappointed with the way this translates into words. This hour was a deeply profound one for me, and to try to explain it requires a courage I lack, I think. I will have to think more about it and see if I can find the right way to express it.

Anyway, a deep and profound thanks to the pastors, staff and volunteers at Village, who set aside the space and time to let me meet with Christ yesterday. Your spiritual leadership and service is much appreciated.

How I knew it was going to be a good day today

I woke this morning from a pleasant dream in which I could fly.

A simple sort of sweater vest/harness with small wings on it allowed me, with some minimal work, glide for impossibly long distances. I had to jump up and exercise a bit to get into the air initially, but pretty soon I was gently soaring over the bright ocean, and coming in close to shore and sitting for a while in the highest branches of the gnarled trees that grew partly on shore, partly in the waves. A small band of mice came and told me a story about the war they were fighting with some other tribe of mice, and I promised to help them when I had a chance.

Then I remembered that I was supposed to be substitute teaching for my friend, Brian, which could have been nightmarish, but the woman who came to remind me of my duties thought that discovering flight should be a perfectly delightful reason to forget I had promised to teach. Besides, another substitute had also forgotten. So we both rode in the woman's small car back to the school, where the children were delighted I was their substitute. So much so that I never even had a chance to tell them about my flight or the mice.

And I woke up relaxed and happy. And the children got ready easily for school, and my wife seemed especially lovely and loving. It was, all in all, an excellent way to start the day.

Revolutionary Advice With Matt

Dear Matt,

My wife, Annie, says that our crystal stemware is full of lead and that we shouldn't drink out of it anymore. This is because lead is bad for you. But I say she is wrong. I need your advice.

Sincerely,

Jim Phule

Matt replies: Annie Phule knows that lead from your crystal stemware can leach into your beverage. In fact, like a good cup of tea, your drink will fill with more and more lead the longer you leave it to steep in the glass. So the secret is to imbibe your drink more rapidly. The faster you drink, the less lead you will take in. My suggestion would be to dump the drink into your stemware and immediately chug it. NOTE: Pregnant women and children should drink theirs even faster!

Perhaps a better question would be why you are using stemware at all. In our home we have a rule... "from the bottle, from the jug, from the pitcher we will chug." Individual glasses were invented in the Middle Ages because the backwards people at that time believed in tiny little men called "Germs." They thought these little men hated us (they were jealous of our size) as well as one another (so My Germs would attack and try to kill Your Germs). This was called Germ Warfare. So, if You and I both drank from the same cup, Your Germs might attack me when I went to take a drink, causing sickness or even death. This sort of silly superstition must be shunned, which is why I make certain my family all drink from the same jug of milk. You would be wise to do the same.

Sincerely,

Matt

Not to sound like a cranky old man

But is it really possible that our house consumes so much toilet paper?

Also, Krista and I played Twister with the kids tonight. Twister is not so easy as I remember.

Lastly--and I'm absolutely certain that none of you care--but there will be a new Ambush Bug miniseries this summer.

Ruthless

I was in a meeting recently where we talked about the need to be "ruthless" in determing what would be allowed to be included in a specific event we were planning.

Someone asked, "What does 'ruthless' mean? If I were not ruthless, would I be 'full of ruth'?"

Her question got me to wondering. And here's the answer:

ruthless
c.1327, from reuthe "pity, compassion" (c.1175), formed from reuwen "to rue" (see rue (v.)) on the model of true/truth, etc. Ruthful (c.1225) has fallen from use since late 17c. except as a deliberate archaism.

So, there you have it. I trust you will be ruthful today when appropriate.

Mormon Jesus and My Jesus

A slightly streamlined presentation of our discussion about Jesus:

Me: So what would be the main difference between what my church would say about Jesus and what the Mormons would say about Jesus?

Elder M: The only real difference would be that your church probably says that we don't worship Jesus. But we do.

Me: So you believe all the same things about Jesus as my church? The Nicean creed type of thing? Fully God, fully man, born by virgin birth, lived, died, rose again, rules at God's right hand sort of thing?

Elder M: The Nicean creed, now, that's different. That was just a bunch of people getting together and voting about what the Bible would say. And we believe in Jesus and Heavenly Father and the Holy Ghost, but not that they are all one.

Me: So you don't believe in the trinity?

Elder J: We believe in the Godhead.

Me: Okay. Interesting. Wow. I have a lot of questions for you now. True or false: Jesus is God.

Elder M: True.

Me: True or false: there are three gods.

Elder M: True.

Me: Now that's pretty different. Did Jesus exist eternally, into the past as well as the future?

Elder M: We all existed eternally. Matter and energy can't be destroyed. We were all intelligences, and Heavenly Father rearranged things to create us. Jesus is the first being he created.

Me: Wait. God created Jesus?

Elder M: Yes.

Me: So the difference between the intelligence that became Jesus and the intelligence that became me is what exactly?

Elder M: He was chosen to die for us, and became part of the Godhead.

Me: So it was kind of like a promotion?

Elder M (laughing): I guess you could say that.

Me: That's pretty different from what I believe about Jesus.

Elder M: You know, as I think about it, I guess what we teach about Jesus is pretty different than what you believe.

Mormons and Coffee

I took my Mormon friends out to lunch at my favorite Mexican restaurant today.

Me: Sorry about inviting you to coffee yesterday. That was pretty funny.

Elder M: That was funny.

Me: I don't drink coffee, either. Are you allowed to drink decaf?

Elder M: No. It's not because of the caffeine, it's the tanic acid. Tea also has tanic acid.

Me: You can't drink tea, either?

Elder M: No.

Me: Can you drink soda?

Elder M: There's a story that someone went fishing with the prophet and asked him if he was allowed to drink a Pepsi and the prophet said, "You may drink it, but God prefers that you not."

Me: So it's on your own conscience?

Elder M: Right. But we know that there's something in soda that causes damage to your bones.

Me: So this is all a health thing?

Elder M: Yes. We are supposed to take care of our bodies and be as healthy as possible.

Me: Elder J, how's that chimichanga?

Elder J: It's good.

More Mormon Musings

I took my Elder Buddies out to lunch today, so we could talk some more about my questions from last time.

There is a great wealth of conversations to relate here. I felt sad for these guys, who are very sincere and yet seem unable to really engage with the questions I am asking them. No doubt because they are trying to convert me. Ahem.

Anyway, I had read a brief passage of the Book of Mormon at their urging. It's a part where Jesus reveals himself to the Lost Tribe of Israel and they are all Very Impressed and line up to put their hands in his side (which I thought was weird, but we didn't discuss that today).

Me: You know what really bothered me about this? You have all these Semitic people -- and what language was the Book of Mormon translated from?

Elder J: Hebrew and Egyptian.

Me: Right. So you have these Semitic people, and somehow Jesus introduces himself as Jesus Christ.

(Silence.)

Me: And Christ is a Greek word. We should expect that, at the least, it would say Messiah, and maybe it would be translated "annointed one." But for a Greek word to show up in the middle of a Hebrew text, that's just weird. And then it talks about "baptism" which is a Greek word, too. Both "baptism" and "Christ" are transliterated from Greek, not translated. So how do you explain that?

Elder J: That's a good question.

Elder M: I don't know the answer to that. But I know that God knows the answer.

Me: Okay.

Elder M: And if you pray and ask God to show you the truth of the Book of Mormon, I can guarantee he will do that.

My children comment on Macbeth

On the way to ice skating tonight I told the kids a Cliffs Notes version of Macbeth. Here's my favorite bit:

Me: --and then the three witches told Macbeth that he would be king one day.

Z: Oh no! Never listen to a witch!

A: They have an evil plan!

Z: Didn't Macbeth's dad ever tell him not to listen to a witch?

Me: Uh... I guess not.

Faux pas

My mormon friends came by today to try to figure out a good time for us to get together again.

Me: Could you guys get together tomorrow at like 2 o'clock?

Elder: Yes, that would work.

Me: We could meet here and go grab coffee.

(Awkward silence.)

Me: Oh, yeah. You aren't allowed to drink coffee, are you?

Elder: No.

Frequent Flier Perks

I was flying "Ted" yesterday. One of the flight attendants told me that because I was a Premiere Executive I was allowed to call it a "Theodore" flight.

But I decided not to do that.

things I saw on my way to the terminal, and the conclusions I draw from them

Observed: A police vehicle in the center of highway 5 at four in the morning, lights blazing, and an officer standing beside a man with no vehicle.

Conclusion: Neither justice nor crime sleeps.

Observed: A large Latino family with many bags waiting in the "priority" line with all the white business men with their one tiny roller bag each. The family was immediately idenitifed as "economy" and moved to the longer line.

Conclusion: Those who need the least help are often given extra service.

Observed: The economy line moved significantly faster than the shorter and more prestigious priority line.

Conclusion: Sometimes the appearance of superiority or the perceived rights of one's station become more important than the actual service or the speed with which it is received.

Observed: A woman with red-rimmed eyes and a barely contained desire to sob, looking mournfully at the man who waited outside the security line, waving to her and eventually coming alongside the line to kiss her across the security tape, to grasp her hand for an instant before she entered the labyrinth.

Conclusion: Life is full of partings and sorrow.

Observed: A security guard who took his job seriously, and stopped to carefully read each boarding pass, to look into the eyes of even the co-workers he knew and to check it against their security badges, resulting in many grumbling travellers and a painfully slow progress toward the shoe-removing, metal-discarding ritual of the secuity checkpoint.

Conclusion: Those who work hardest to ensure our safety are least appreciated.

Observed: When I get up too early in the morning, I wake up either cranky or philosophical.

Conclusion: Today it's the latter.

our new pet

There's this stray cat who has been hanging around our house the last couple of days. It's skin, bones and fur. Last night we came home to find it curled up on our front porch. This morning it stood mournfully at our back door.

Krista mentioned that maybe we should start to feed it, because it seems clear that it has been abandoned, and no one else is caring for it. So tonight I went out back and found it curled up next to our house. I gave it some chicken and a bowl of milk. It purred at me and then went back to its spot.

I told the kids tonight that the cat would be our cat now, but that it has to live outside. Tomorrow we'll try to get it a "cat house" or something, but that they would need to name the cat.

They came up with a name in about ten seconds: Lucy Amber Kristina Macy Mikalatos. We'll call her "Lucy Amber" for short.

Favorite Moments with My Mormon Friends, Part One

Elder M: Have you ever read the Book of Mormon?

Me: Parts of it. A long time ago.

Elder M: How did you feel as you read it?

Me: I'm going to be honest, but I don't want to offend you. Is that okay?

Elder M: Yes.

Me: Well, I'm a writer. And I have to say that most of the time I was reading the Book of Mormon I was distracted by the way that it appeared that someone was trying to copy the style of the King James Bible--

D (the woman who hosts the elders in our neighborhood): We read from the King James Bible, you know.

Me: I know. What I'm saying is that I was distracted by the fact that it seemed that the style of the Book of Mormon was like someone trying to copy King James English, but not doing a great job of it.

Elder M: You're getting at how there are errors in grammar, things like that. You know, Joseph Smith only had an eighth grade education at the time he translated the Book of Mormon.

Me: How did he translate it exactly?

Elder M: He had two artifacts --

Me: The urim and thummim or something, right?

Elder M: Right. Then God supernaturally translated it, and Joseph Smith told people what to write down.

Me: So you're saying that God basically dictated the translation to Joseph Smith.

Elder M: That's right.

Me: So all the grammar mistakes, those would be God's grammar mistakes?

(A long silence.)

Elder M: That's right.

(I look to Elder J for help. He looks skeptical that the grammar mistakes could be God's grammar mistakes.)

Elder J: That's a good question.

Holy Spirit, get ready... FIGHT!

I had a great conversation with the neighborhood missionaries for the Latter Day Saints today. Man, I had a good time.

My favorite moment is when one of the poor young elders told me that the reason that the Book of Mormon reads like second-rate King James is that God supernaturally translated it and he just wanted all the bad grammar and poor style included. Ha ha ha. Good one!

More to come later....

p.s. there wasn't really any fighting. Mostly asking questions. I did take a brief moment to explain to them why Moses and Elijah appeared on the Mount of Transfiguration and then asked why, of all people, Peter, James and John came to bestow the priesthood on Joseph Smith.

delayed reaction

Me: I think I'm sick.

A: Maybe it's because you ate some eggs.

Me: I didn't eat any eggs.

A: Didn't your food on the plane touch some eggs?

Me: That was ten days ago.

A: Aren't you allerigic to eggs?

Questions about ice skating

I took Z to her ice skating lessons tonight, and it left me with many questions.

What is going on with those kids who pull on some sort of nylons over their skates? What is the benefit in that? Or is it just a style thing?

How does a zamboni work exactly? Does it really have to be that big? Who came up with that name and what does it mean? Is that Italian or what?

Is my child destined for greatness? Is it normal that she should fall down so rarely? Should I have enrolled her in ice skating lessons at age 18 months to guarantee her spot in the olympics?

Whose idea was it to have metal bleachers in an ice skating rink? Do they want the parents to freeze their patookies? Is this a scam to sell some sort of seat warmers?

The Butterbean Story (parts 1-3) by A

Once upon a time there was once a little butter bean. It made its way to Lookout Bridge. And there's a huge sunshine beam. Look out for more butter bean in Butter Bean 2.

Butterbean Part Two. Once there was a little brean. And it made lots of trouble. Today we're telling about how all the butterbeans get stuck in a crayon. It was a giant one all of them were in. The queen said, "Butterbean, if you can get us out we can go back to our own world." Look out for more butterbean in Butterbean Part Three.

Butterbean Part Three. Today we're talking about how Butterbean saved all the butterbeans. "Butterbean, use the loopdiloop to get us all out of here," said the queen. Butterbean world is in this big house that all the butterbeans live in. Let me tell you how big the house is. It's 25 butterbeans long and there's 25 butterbeans. Look out for more butterbean in Butterbean Part Four.

To be continued....

Calvinball (Part Two)

Today we returned to the grade school for a kickball rematch. This time the teams started out as me and the kids versus Krista and Shasta. All was going well at first. I kicked one waaaaay out into the outfield and we scored three runs. But then the outs started piling up. And then it was Krista and Shasta's turn to kick. Krista said, "Let's make Matt run!" and they started kicking the ball ridiculously far. Z soldiered on, but A defected to the Ladies Team.

Fortunately for me, the Ladies Team decided to head home early to make dinner for us (barbecued salmon and mashed potatoes and I'm not sure what other tasty surprises they may be serving up for us).

On the way home we saw our neighbors who had been in the street altercation in September, which had ended with me on the sidewalk while a police officer held an assault rifle pointed in my direction. As we stood there, the neighbors they had been fighting with drove by and she waved to them. I asked if they had become friends and she said, "This is the first time I've seen them since the fight. I'm hoping if I act nice there won't be trouble." I shrugged. "Also, they were so drunk I'm not sure they remember what happened."

Garfield Minus Garfield

A friend sent me this link for "Garfield Minus Garfield"... a website where someone takes the daily Garfield strip and removes the fat cat. Turns out it's funnier that way.

Calvinball

I came home from South Carolina today, and it's great to be back with my family. The kids wanted to ride their bikes to the grade school, so off we went. Z started talking about how much she loves P.E. at school, so Krista started telling A all about kickball. So we decided to give it a try.

Although I gave a valiant effort at teaching the children kickball, all I really taught them was a mild version of Calvinball.

Some of today's rules included: Daddy has to walk when he kicks the ball. If one of the kids can't find the base (we were using bits of trash we found in the field), then I couldn't tag them until they found it, it took one "out" for me to stop kicking, but they got four outs.

P.S. Krista was worried when I saw this post that I was going to be talking about Calvinism. Calvinism Ball, in my opinion, is much less fun. It has many of the same rules as kickball, but everyone gets together and decides the outcome before they play.

Bloggerific

The wonderful thing about bloggers
is bloggers are wonderful things
they drink their coffee from mug-gers
they like to lay on bed springs.

Bloggers are cuddly fellas
bloggers are awfully sweet
everyone else is jealous
they never stand up on their feet!

they're moggy, loggy, doggy, bloggy
fun fun fun fun
but the most wonderful thing about bloggers
is I'm the only one!

Ooooooooh Iiiiiiiiiiiii'm the only one!

Some airport ideals that we should adopt into the rest of the world

First and foremost, let us remind ourselves that the Portland airport (PDX!) is a forward thinking insitution, and that whatever backwards airport you are accustomed to may not have embraced all the things I shall list below. But behold, they are readily embraced here in the City of Roses.

1) Free Internet. I don't know why this is so difficult to understand. We do not want to pay more than a month's access fees to get on the internet at Starbucks for twenty minutes. The only conceivable reason to charge people for this is that some people actually pay. Stop that right now! Let's demand free internet for all.

2) Bookstores open at 6 a.m. PDX requires that all their stores open when the customers arrive. I like that I can buy a book earlier than I would usually wake up. Not that I think all stores should open at 6 a.m., but let's be honest... bookstores should open before ten in the morning. When a man has stayed up all night reading, he wants a new book.

3) "Rest Legalities." My flight today is delayed due to a "flight crew rest legality." In other words, the government has stepped in and said that the flight crew has worked hard enough and they need a break. I would gladly adopt this into some portions of my life. "Daddy, wake up and get me some breakfast!" "Sorry, darling, but there is a 'parental rest legality' preventing me from getting your breakfast. It will be delayed by fifteen minutes." "But I'm hungry!" "Sorry, kid, that's the law."

4) Someone to carry your junk. I like how they'll take my bag and lug it around for me. When I arrive at the correct location, HUZZAH! It magically appears. This is often true.

5) Paranoid security workers to look at me askance when they read my foreign last name. Oh wait, we already have that.

6) Moving walkways. 'Nuff said.

7) Live accordian players who will play any song you like for one thin nickel! Like I said, the Portland airport is ahead of its time. Okay, I made that up. But there is a live piano player.

lunch plans

By lunchtime I'll be at the Chicago airport. My plan is to have a Chicago dog for lunch. I haven't had one in about four years... the last time I was at O'Hare. For those of us from the west coast, a Chicago dog is weird. There are strange pickled things that don't appear to be pickles, and hot peppers and I'm not sure what else. But I like them. And although it's 5:30 in the morning right now, I'm still looking forward to the strange goodness that is a Chicago dog.

Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Mikalatos

You wanted to know everything about me. Here's the link.

UPDATE: Eagle-eyed BHR reader JB Windle called me to say that the link sometimes generated more-than-questionable content. I've removed the link now. Thanks, JB!

Yes, this is why you should stay tuned to BHR every moment of every day. You snooze, you lose.

This one is for Big John

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

I'm sure this is old news for most of you, but just in case you live in INDIA or something, here's the trailer for the new Indiana Jones movie:



May 22nd is the old man's big day.

Mecha Manga Bible Heroes

My good buddy Ken sent me this link for a new set of Bible comics... rather than traditional comic interpretations, this one will have aliens and giant robots. Yes, it's the Bible... but with aliens and giant robots.

<----- There's David fighting a giant God-hating robot right there.

The Valley of Vision

I read this prayer yesterday, from the book Krista gave to me, The Valley of Vision. It's a puritan prayer, and I found it deeply moving and significant. So I thought I'd share:

The Valley of Vision

Lord, high and holy, meek and lowly,
You have brought me to the valley of vision,
where I live in the depths but see you in the heights;
hemmed in by the mountains of sin I behold your glory.

Let me learn by paradox
that the way down is the way up,
that to be low is to be high,
that the broken heart is the healed heart,
that the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit,
that the repenting soul is the victorious soul,
that to have nothing is to possess all,
that to bear the cross is to wear the crown,
that to give is to receive,
that the valley is the place of vision.
Lord, in the daytime stars can be seen from deepest wells,
and the deeper the wells, the brighter your stars shine;
Let me find your light in my darkness,
your life in my death,
your joy in my sorrow,
your grace in my sin,
your riches in my poverty,
your glory in my valley.

Happy happy Valentine's Day

Krista and I ran out to the coast for one night on Valentine's and stayed at her aunt's beach house. We had a nice meal out and wandered the beach taking pictures and soaking in the beauty. We had a nice prayer walk on the beach, too.

I often say that my love language is books. When someone carefully considers me and buys me a book, I feel deeply loved. Even gift cards for books do it, because I know I am difficult. I am ridiculously picky about books.

When it comes to spiritual books, it's even harder. For some reason (no doubt a personal defect) I am even pickier about spiritual books.

For Valentine's Day Krista bought me The Valley of Vision, a collection of Puritan prayers and devotions. Each page-long prayer is full of deep reflections on spirituality and the nature of God. She also got me Fenelon's Seeking Heart, letters written by a French Archbishop several centuries ago. I've only just begun to scan them, but I am very pleased. I feel that they will have a significant impact on my spiritual life, and they were an excellent gift. Thanks, Krista!

Revolutionary Advice With Matt

Dear Matt,

I heard it's unsafe to flush old medications, which is what I've always done. What's the best way to get rid of them?

Signed,

Sitting On A Crapload of Old Medicine

Dear Crapload,

An excellent question, especially since in some states it's now illegal to throw your old medicines in the trash, in an attempt to keep drug addicts and racoons from getting hopped up on your leftover medications.

I personally prefer to flush my leftover medications in neighborhoods other than my own, primarily because I am concerned that alligators in the sewer may become either enormous or psychotic, rise from the sewers and bite off me hand.

The public restroom in any Starbucks is a safe place to do away with those medications. The alligators near any Starbucks are already out of control due to the amount of caffeine that seeps into the groundwater. Sewer alligators near Starbucks locations have up to eleven times more caffeine in their blood than other wild alligators. A slight increase in pharmacy castoffs seems to calm them somewhat, and I've found that the incidence of sewer alligator attacks in my neighborhood has decreased nearly 27% since I began to discard our old medicine there.

If you are the sort of calloused individual unwilling to do the extra work to do away with your extra medications, it may be that your neighborhood has a Collector Monkey. Many Organ Grinder Monkeys have been out of work in the last few years, and now they wander about on unicycles gathering leftover medications to deliver to the recycling center.

If You Lived Here, You'd Be Home Now

When we lived in Asia, I always wanted to be in a movie. Or a television commercial. Like this one:



I think this might be my favorite commercial ever. Krista and I are old friends with the actors in this commercial. It makes it even better. We even made a slideshow together once, which involved setting a stuffed Tigger on fire.

I hope you enjoy this little slice of Reality Television.

Finish the Sentence: While the Wife Is Away, The Husband Will....

Rent awful movies that she doesn't want to watch.

This is a tradition dating back to the first years of our marriage. If Krista is out of town, I dredge up whatever movies I've been waiting around to see and watch them while eating some sort of snack I wouldn't eat in front of her. Like, I don't know, cold spaghetti sauce or something. I discover later that (a) I have lost my taste for the movies that she doesn't want to see and (b) I still like the taste of my snacks.

Tonight's movie: The Departed.

Reason Wife Will Not Watch: Ridiculous Levels of Violence.

Tonight's Snack of Choice: Tina's Burrito (Red Hot Spicy Beef flavor)

Predictions Regarding Movie: I will enjoy it. I will find the ridiculous levels of violence excessive. I will wish that I saw it on an airplane.

She's just a girl, who says that I am the one... but the kid is not my son

I went to get my hair cut today. I went to pay and the beautician (handsomtician... is she still a beautician if she's cutting my hair?) said, "Are you paying for him, too?"

"He" was a guy in his late teens or early twenties, sitting in the waiting area.

"No," I said.

"Oh," she said. "Is he with that guy getting his hair cut right now?"

The guy getting his haircut was also in his early twenties. I had never seen him before.

"I have no idea," I said. "I don't know those guys."

"Oh," she said. "Sorry. I just heard him say his Dad was paying for him."

Luckily I hadn't given her a tip yet.

You Can't Handle the Tooth!

I went to the dentist today. I resolved to ask questions about anything I didn't understand, and thus learned many helpful things... like the number scale for pocket depth on your gums. (NOTE: Lower numbers are better. If they start saying things like, "THEY'RE BLEEDING!" that's probably a 5).

Here are some tips my hygenist gave me that I will pass along to you:

1) Floss at least once every 24 hours. This will help prevent increased pocket depth and the formation of bacteria and tartar.

2) When brushing near the gumline, brush at a 45 degree angle. This will lessen the plaque buildup.

3) More French Kissing. French kissing prevents plaque buildup and promotes healthy teeth.

(Alright, alright, I added that last part myself... but don't tell my wife because I have a note from the dentist saying we need to french kiss more.)

Eavesdropping with Matt (Episode Nineteen)

Dedicated to the young couple at the video rental store, he with his spiky blonde hair, she with her long straight brown hair.

She: Let's rent this! Jackass 2.5!

He: Nah. It's going to be the same as Jackass 1 and 2.

She: But it will still make me laugh.

He: It's just more of the same.

She: So it will make me laugh.

He: We already saw it.

She: It will make me laugh, though, just like the other ones.

He (picking up another video): Lake Placid 2. It was a mistake to make that movie.

For those of you who occasionally wonder aloud, "Why does Hollywood keep making movies like 'Jackass'?" this is your answer: because they continue to make money off them. Ditto, Lake Placid. Ditto, "Saw: Ad Nauseum."

I took the moral highground and rented "Ocean's 13." The sequel to a sequel. Since they couldn't come up with a compelling plot they settled for providing an emotional experience roughly equivalent to Ocean's Eleven. But it still made me laugh.

Leap Frog

Last night that same frog was sitting on our front step. He was about a half inch from the front door, directly in the center of the door, facing inward. I had a good laugh about that, but quickly shut the door after leaping over him and into the house.

So far as I know he's still out there somewhere.

Frogs

Sometimes the frogs in our backyard sound so close.

Last night just before bed one hopped across our kitchen floor. A pretty good sized one, too! I opened the back door and helped him out, but I could tell the wintery air shocked him. He leapt back into the house, so I had to scoop him up and put him outside again.

Where was he coming from? How did he get into the house? We're not sure. My theory: he's a frog prince, but he couldn't get upstairs to the kids to get his kiss.

Late Night Television, Entertain Me!

The Drew Carey show comes on at 9. Since the writer's strike, this is by far the best thing to watch, unless you really like schlock like American Idol.

My favorite advertisement tonight was for a drug called MIRAPEX. It's a drug for treating "restless leg syndrome." Here are a few of the side effects:

Nausea
Headache
Fatigue
Somnolence (In fact, the warning says that MIRAPEX can cause you to "become sleepy or fall asleep while doing normal everyday activities like driving a car.")

In addition, you might feel faint or become dizzy when standing up.

Some people have hallucinations. Not just visual ones, either. Auditory, tactile and olfactory hallucinations, too! Wow!

And lastly, my favorite set of side effects:

Compulsive gambling, eating, and increased sex drive.

On the other hand, HEY! No more restless legs. Ha ha ha!

Here's a testimonial from Adrian Jones, former restless leg sufferer: "I remember when I used to sit on the couch and my legs felt just awful. Restless. Weird sensations. But ever since I started taking MIRAPEX I've been sleeping a lot, feeling nauseous, wanting to eat more, have sex and waste money and... I FEEL SO YOUNG! It's like I'm back in the fraternity again. I hardly ever think about my restless legs anymore." Okay, I made that one up.

A last thought from the MIRAPEX website: "Please note that this is not a complete list of possible side effects."

Revolutionary Advice with Matt

Dear Matt,

I need your advice. Whenever I go to the movies there is an old man who is hard of hearing. He makes comments to his friends, thinking he is whispering, but he is actually speaking loudly and distracts me from the movie. Is there a polite way I can tell him to be quiet?

Signed,

Helpless In the Theatre

Dear Helpless,

The trick here is to remember that the old man can't hear you. Some might tell you to use gestures to try to get the man's attention, and then hold your finger up to your lip as if to say, "Sh!" I disagree. You could try to ask the man politely to keep the noise down, but chances are he wouldn't hear you the first several times. Remember, he is speaking loudly but thinks he is practically whispering. So, your best bet is to yell, "SHUT IT, OLD MAN!"

Be sure to scream it suddenly, as if to get his attention.

Here's a simple equation to help you in these situations:

(Loudness at Which Old Man Is Talking + Volume of Movie) (Distance From Old Man) = Required Volume of Your Shout

Sincerely, Matt

Upcoming Discipleship Journal Article

I just signed the contract for a short article of mine to appear in an upcoming issue of Discipleship Journal. It will most likely be in the May/June issue (ish 165). I'll share more about it when it's available. In fact, DJ bought internet rights as well, so it may be up in their archive come May, so I'll put a link to it.

Books To Be Read

I just used some of my Christmas money to order me some books.

Behold! The books which wing their way to me through the postal system:

The Book of Joby

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime

I, Claudius

As I wait I am in the middle of another novel, which we'll actually discuss here later. I've been waiting to write a glowing post about how great Dave Egger's What Is The What is, but haven't gotten to it. Allow me simply to say, find it and read it. It matters.

Ode To Sleep

Jet lag creates an insatiable desire for sleep. Tonight, as Krista and I made our bed, I found myself thinking inwardly, "Ahhhh, it will be nice to curl up beneath these sheets and sleep tonight." A basic thankfulness for sleep comes upon you.

It would be, I think, an appropriate time to write odes to sleep, to sing songs about one's pillow, to recite stirring speeches about the glories of a well-earned rest at the end of an inevitably too-long day.

So, I have written you all a poem entitled,

"A Limmerick Ode To Sleep, Written Upon My Return from Thailand, and Which I Find Both Clever and Immensely Funny Due At Least Partially to The Length of the Limmerick's Title, and Partially, No Doubt, To My Lack of Sleep."

When I get back into town
from flying the world all around
I prop up my eyes
and of sleep fantasize
on a bed, or a couch or the ground!

The Gormand

My daughter A has a weakness for sauces. Foods pronounced inedible become wonderful delicacies with the correct ratio of ketchup to food. Here is an example from tonight.

A: Broccoli? I don't like broccoli!

Me: I don't either, but I still eat it.

A: I'm going to dip it in my milk.

She proceeds to dip a piece of broccoli in her milk. When trying a new food combination she screws up her face and thinks deeply before making her pronouncement, which follows this formula: A description of the taste followed by whether she likes it or not.

A: Tastes like... milk. Milk... and broccoli. Hmmm. I like it!

International Bathrooms

Two thought about bathrooms from today's travel. For those of you unable to discuss "the powder room" dispassionately and with a calm stomach, abandon ye this post now.

Bangkok. A sign beside the toilet said, in English, "Do not place tissues in the flush toilet." I thought about this for a long time, trying to discover the intended meaning of this sign. A small wastebasket beside the toilet implied that I was not meant to put used toilet paper in the toilet. I have been in countries where this was the case, so this could be true. However, in the rest of Thailand I had thrown such waste into the toilet with impunity. It could be that the toilets at the Bangkok airport have been a source of major controversy and perhaps do not work correctly. But then I thought it might be referring to tissue paper, meaning "kleenex"... I don't know why they would care, but I am a cultural outsider, aren't I? In the end, I used the small wastebasket for the toilet paper and hoped that this would not be an unpleasant surprise for some poor Thai lady.

Tokyo. A quick stop in the restroom of the airport lounge revealed a clean stall that smelled as if some fellow traveller might have exploded in it. As I stood debating whether or not I could hold my breath long enough to fulfill my intestinal purposes, I noticed an electrical outlet next to the toilet. Above it stood a small table, apparently meant for... a laptop computer? Could this be? Do people really need to check their email or blog from the toilet? There is wireless in here -- I mean, in there. There is wireless in there.

so serious

Bangkok airport...

The customs lady was very serious this morning. Our line was by far the slowest. We got up cose and we could see why. She took her job very seriously. She even had a tie pin fashioned to look like handcuffs.

Okay, got to catch a plane!

In the Krabi airport

I'm writing you all from the Krabi airport, another strange reminder of the connectedness of the electronic world.

The airport waiting lounge is a great microcosmic experience of Thailand, full of beach bums, honeymooners, monks, muslim clerics, vacationing missionaries and burned out hippies, not to mention the omnipresent Thai people who simultaneously make our presence possible and try to make some sort of living by letting us pretend our lives would be somehow different if we lived here instead of back home.

Philosophically, of course, we all know that life would be the same here... that all the pettiness and complexities of life would catch up with us here rather than loitering back home, smoking cigarettes on our front porches. But emotionally we think that maybe, somehow, this time we can outrun all our problems, that we won't load them up like the seventeen pieces of luggage we brought with us, that this time we can make a clean break and live a life of abundance and joy without questions or worries.

The problem being that all these things, we carry them around like tattoos. We can't escape them any more than we could escape our skin, or breathing, or the sky. And the remedy, well, He's as present (more so) than our problems... at home, in Thailand or India or Lithuania or Croatia or Russia or any other place you could name (or can't name).

Tomorrow is our last full day in Thailand... in Bangkok. As much as I'd like it to be otherwise it feels more like a stop on the journey home than another day of vacation. But so be it. Home needs tending and there are things and people there I wouldn't trade just for beaches and swimming pools. Although, if they wanted to join us here, I might be persuaded....

Winter by Jon Foreman

Jon Foreman's Winter, the second of a planned four EP release, came out last month. I managed to download it from our hotel in Bangkok and I've been listening to it here in Krabi, enjoying the irony of listening to the Winter album while wearing shorts and staring out over the Tha Lane Bay.

One of the nice things about Jon's seasonal releases is that I wasn't tired of "Fall" yet... I was still listening to it nearly every day. So having some more thought-provoking, enjoyable music is a treat.

I particularly like three of the songs on the new EP:

1) "Learning How to Die." See the post below for lyrics. This song gave me a deeper insight into the "Fall" album, actually. I realized (maybe I'm late to the party here) that the theme of Fall wasn't only the season, but also seems to be associated with THE Fall of humanity. It has a lot of songs about things not working out, temptation, giving in to temptation, and grief. Winter seems to be dealing with the fallout from Fall, just like the seasons, of course. "Learning How to Die" shows the inevitability of our separation from one another, the end of all living things and the necessity of embracing that in our current lives. It's beautifully written, lyrically and musically.

2) "White as Snow" takes the words of David, King of Israel that he wrote when he had committed adultery and murder. Jon sings it with a lot of feeling, and you can feel real remorse about the past and hope for the future. Again, this is one of the results of our Fall, that sometimes we turn to God for forgiveness, hope, repentance and restoration.

3) "Somebody's Baby." This was, to me, the most powerful and affecting song on the album. It's a love ballad to a homeless woman. It tells her story in a way designed to make you love her and wish you could step into her life and help her start over.

One of the things I've always appreciated about Jon Foreman (and Switchfoot for that matter) is that they aren't satisfied to keep doing the same songs over and over. What I mean is, each album has a new sound and pushes into new territory stylistically and thematically. This EP is no exception.

There you have it. If I knew enough surfer language I would say something profound like "This album is epic." But I don't. So I'll just say, I really like it. And I think you will like it, too. And I'm looking forward to Spring.

Learning How to Die Lyrics by Jon Foreman

Here are Jon's handwritten lyrics for "Learning How To Die." Enjoy.

.

Last Full Day at the Beach

Today is our last full day at the beach. We're planning to go to Ao Nang and then take a boat across to another beach. It should be fun. We're so completely over jet lag that the thought of going back to America seems harder than setting up a new home here.

I know what you're thinking, "It's about time Mikalatos got off the beach and back to his usual shenanigans so I can feel superior and powerful whenever I read his blog, instead of feeling jealous."

Perhaps this will make you feel better: Yesterday I caught a lizard to show to the kids. Then it jumped onto my hand, ran up my arm, leapt from my collar to my neck and then ran down my shirt. The children nearly broke themselves laughing. I had to take my shirt off to rid myself of the lizard.

MORAL: If a giant ever catches you, run into his clothing.

Terror on Hong Island

Today the family jumped into a truck, then jumped into a longboat and motored out to the islands.

Our first stop was Koh Hong, a beautiful island and a Thai national park. We swam, snorkled and built pristine white sand castles.

After a while, my wife Krista, my daughter Z, my parents and my father-in-law decided to go on a hike through the jungle. Krista's mom and our other daughter, A, stayed on the beach to play.

About halfway down the trail, Krista and my Mom turned back. We continued on, climbing over fallen trees and swinging on the occasional vine. Z seemed unaccountably frightened the whole time and kept asking if we could turn back. No, I assured her, there was nothing to be afraid of here.

Toward the end of the trail we came across a boat graveyard in the middle of the island, remnants of the tsunami. The splintered boats had ivy and jungle vegetation creeping over them, another testimony to nature's power.

The trail looped back to the starting point and we returned to our spot on the beach to discover that Krista and Mom had not yet returned. It seemed odd that we would get there before them... they had left well before the trail's halfway point.

I went back to the trailhead and started down the trail again. Perhaps one of them had turned their ankle and were waiting for someone to come along and help the get back to the beach. I reached the place where they had turned back and there was no sign of them. I walked a little deeper into the jungle and I heard a high and distant, "Haaaallo!" that sounded unmistakeably like my Mother's voice.

It's just a bird, I told myself. Or an animal. I stopped and listened. "Haaaallo!" I was almost certain it was my mother, but I couldn't tell where it was coming from. I ran ahead on the path, thinking they must be hurt. Why wasn't Krista calling out also? Could she be hurt or unconscious? It seemed unlikely, but maybe they had been kidnapped? "Haaaaallo!"

No, no, I told myself. That must be a bird or something. They are safely back on the beach, I'm sure.

I had noticed a short cut through the jungle and back to the beach. I ran along it and came out on the beach long enough to see that they still hadn't returned. That must have actually been my mother calling out, although why she didn't call for help or shout our names eluded me. I ran back along the jungle path, moving quickly. I stopped where I had heard the earlier cries, but now all I heard were the sounds of the jungle. Birds calling, distant longboats, crashing as animals forced their way through the underbrush.

I made a last trek back toward camp, watching the undergrowth for signs of someone being pulled off the path and into the thick tangle of vegetation. I watched for signs of a scuffle on the red clay path. I bent and studied suspect branches and broken twigs.

I stopped. An enormous lizard, easily four feet long, walked the path beside me. A monitor lizard. It saw me and slinked back into the jungle. A few feet farther and I saw another one, just as my father and father-in-law came up the path to tell me that Krista and Mom had returned to "camp."

They had come across the lizards a few moments after they left us. One of the reptiles stood in the path, defiantly watching them and refusing to move. After a short time the ladies decided to try to catch up with us, but we were too far along. By the time I went into the jungle looking for them, they were farther along the path and Mom was shouting HAAAAALLO hoping that it would scare off any native wildlife (rather than terrifying her son).

In the end, I don't think anyone appreciated how genuinely terrified I felt for those ten minutes. All the worst case scenarios went through my head, and yes, some of those were informed by the fact that I watch the television show LOST. I have to admit, none of the worst case scenarios in my head involved monitor lizards. But some of them involved a troop of monkeys, and at least one involved deranged pirate-like people.

Everyone's safely home now. Including, so far as I know, the monitor lizards.

Mmmm... Thai food!

Here's the dinner our staff made last night.


















And here's my favorite dessert:

Sweet Thailand Home

Here's our home in Thailand. The house in the background is the one we're staying in, and that's the bay we look out on. I'm sitting in our courtyard right now listening to the frogs, lizards and insects croak, chirp and hum, and the fishermen's boats motoring in from the bay.

A Feast For A King

As you can see, the King does not have to comb his hair before dinner. NO! In fact, he doesn't have to put on a shirt unless he really wants to. He can do whatever he wants.

Here you can see me about to feast upon home-made Thai goodness. We were ordering out but the women who work here said it would be much cheaper if we just let them make it for us. So we do, which means we're a little less certain what will show up each night. But it has been excellent. Yes, that is a giant pile of satay you see before me. ITS NAME IS SATAY!

Tonight we had satay, cashew chicken, a thick noodle dish similar to rad nah with beef (one theory is that the head of the slaughtered cow we saw today was the remnants of what was necessary for making our dinner), steamed vegetables and then for dessert we had mango sticky rice, jack fruit, coconut cream with corn and then ice cream. We all ate too much and have plenty for lunch tomorrow.

His name is SATAN!

Z reads pretty much everything put in front of her these days. You can't leave her alone in a room with books or she will curl up somewhere and shut out everything except the world of the book. You can see in the previous post that she falls asleep each night reading.

Right now she's reading "Son of the Black Stallion" and she asked me to get it for her to read before she went to sleep. I went to get it and noticed as I walked past the pool that the tagline read, "His name is SATAN!"

Well, that's curious, I thought. So I asked Z, why is the black stallion's colt named Satan?

She's not sure. The colt has fiery eyes, but she doesn't think that's the reason.

I guess this is why parents start reading their kids books before the kids read them. I don't have time to read that many books. I'm sure Son of the Black Stallion is fine, I just thought that was an uproariously funny tagline.

It would be a great tagline for our sequel blog:

SON OF THE BURNING HEARTS REVOLUTION
ITS NAME IS SATAN!

Jet lag makes bed time easy

It's so nice when the kids are jet lagged but we aren't.

I got one eye on you, and one on my escape route

This little fella was making a ruckus in the tree in our front yard. I ran over with Krista's camera, which startled him into action. I managed to get this shot before he slipped away.

Further evidence that children adapt better than adults cross-culturally

Krista, Z and I tromped over the hill in the heat of the day to visit the little village on the other side. As we walked I noticed the head of a cow hanging from a tree, a hook through its nose and gore dripping from its neck.

Me: Look, Z, there's a cow's head hanging in that tree.

Z: Looks like someone's about to have a party.

LOST in thailand

We realized today that our home here in Krabi has disturbing similarities to my favorite television show.

We're in this mysterious yet beautiful remote location. We're well cared for, but there's a feeling that we can't escape in some way. Then today, my Dad and I packed up and went on an exploratory walk around "the island" to see if we could find a town or anything.

We found a strange underground medical facility where it appears they have been genetically modifying polar bears to live in tropical environments. Also a big smoke cloud monster thingy chased us.

When I "get a chance" to upload some of Krista's pictures I'll show you what the view is like from our house here. It's amazing.

Okay, gotta go. I have to go type in the code and press "the button."

Krabi

We reunited with the kids and our parents today in Bangkok... played in the pool, ate, rode on a plane and arrived at our isolated luxury house in Krabi. We're probably the only foreigners for about 20 kilometers, and there is pretty much nothing nearby. But it's gorgeous. Our beach chairs look out on giant freestanding rocks in the bay, and fishermen check their nets as the sun sets. There's a little pool in the center of the house area, and each of the bedrooms is arranged around it in seperate rooms. We were a little concerned about how isolated it seemed out here, but then on a whim I checked for a wireless signal, and there it is. So I guess that we can contact english-speaking civilization for help if we need it. Watch this space for desperate cries for help. :)

I think it's going to be great, actually. Really relaxing and fun, and it's great to be together with my parents and Krista's parents and the kids. It's a great blessing to have parents that all like each other.

In other news, our daughter A lost her first tooth tonight. She called me to say it had turned sideways in her mouth, I reached in and plucked it out and there was much rejoicing. She's officially growing up, I guess, and that little missing-tooth grin we've come to consider normal for Z seems to be catching!

A certainty of his presence

Today was a Very Good day. I spent it with Krista, traveling from Chiang Mai to Bangkok. We arrived (with our luggage) and then found a taxi easily, slipped into our excellent hotel, ate an exceptional meal, lounged in the pool, and then explored the river using the public taxi boats (more like buses than taxis) and then eventually made our way over to "the sky train" and hit the Thai mall, ate dinner, snagged some mango sticky rice from a grocery store and made our way home again by train and boat. You can see pictures from our day on Krista's blog.

Five times today I felt a certainty of God's presence. They came in small moments, measured in seconds not minutes, but they came like the sun bursting out from behind the clouds.

The first came as I read Dave Eggers' "What is the What" while we sat on lounge chairs in the pool (the chairs are ankle deep in the water). I won't go into detail (I want to share more when I finish reading it), other than to say that the book, which deals with the Sudanese diaspora in a powerful way, had a page where the main character reflects on suffering and God. In that moment, I felt God's presence, for those ten seconds when I read two paragraphs.

The second came as Krista and I sat on a boat-bus and the cool wind came in off the river. Krista stood up to take a picture, and for a moment I felt a deep satisfaction, as if I were not a foreigner, and our life seemed full and wonderful... taking a day in Thailand to ride a taxi boat, waiting for our children and parents to join us, the beautiful river and the Thai people huddled around us like family, like friends, like fellow travelers.

The third came on another boat at the end of the night, when the sun had set and we headed for home again. Again, a moment of satisfaction, a sense of blessing and a realization that this satisfaction -- could it be peace? -- came to me as a gift from him.

The fourth came as Krista showed me her pictures from our day. In one of them the sun explodes through a pagoda, reducing it to shadow soaked in sunshine. I saw in that moment a metaphor for this culture, I hope a vision of the future, as God bursts through the things that men have made for worship and shows his own might and glory, more spectacular than a thousand gold-encrusted wats.

And then the fifth, as I sprawled on the bed reading the story of Jesus washing the disciple's feet, I read the words, "Do you understand what I have done for you?" No. I don't realize it, not really. The night before we left for Thailand, Krista had a second miscarriage. We hadn't told anyone she was pregnant, and then hours before we left for Thailand we lost the baby. I think this palpable, heart-breaking reminder of the broken world we live in made Jesus' words to his followers after washing their feet stand out to me. I love everything about this passsage. The ridiculous, almost nonsensical description of Christ's motivations, the violation of social norms, the uncommonly straightforward exposition. Knowing that he came to serve us and save us in the midst of my loss makes it more profound to me. And then, "Now that I, your Lord and Master have washed your feet, you also should wash one another's feet."

And there it is. All told, it might be fifty seconds out of the day that I sensed his presence, fifty seconds where I felt him near me.

And for today, that was enough.

homeless dogs, dressed real nice

We couldn't help but notice the packs of wild dogs running around in Chiang Mai. Our friends said it's quite a problem for early morning joggers. We also couldn't help but notice that many of these homeless dogs actually wear clothes.

Turns out that it's a tradition of the Thai people to dress dogs up in their cast off clothing. So you see dogs running around in shirts of various qualities and colors. We saw one yesterday wearing an American flag handkerchief.

I have to say, this is yet another reason to really love Thailand.

It used to be Ugly Americans, now it's just Fat Americans

Here's a little excerpt of a conversation near us at the airport lounge this morning in Chiang Mai:

Man: That was a good Boo-fay we ate at for breakfast this morning. I am FULL!

He rubs his belly like a big white happy Buddha.

Woman: Look, they have little ham sandwiches here in the lounge.

Man: That sounds GREAT!

Yesterday's Menu

Breakfast: fried rice, a croissant and some potatoes

Lunch: Curry, some sort of chicken curry soup thing, fried rice, watermelon shake.

Snack: Mango shake

Dinner: Basil chicken, garlic chicken, cashew chicken, watermelon shake, tom ka (soup) followed by ma dang (pork soup) and then some honey roti (fried pancake with sweetened condensed milk, butter and honey). Mmmmmmmm.

Thai food is good.

they hate vanilla

Something to know about Thailand is that they are not fond of vanilla. At least, not in milkshakes and things. You can still get vanilla ice cream, I think. But shakes have to be banana shakes or something. But I did have a nice carmel frappacino ice thing which is like a carmel milkshake. Yum.

We're in Chiang Mai now, and nestled into our nice little hotel room. We're about to go out and have a thai lunch. Of course I will report back on all the tasty food we eat. We're about a block and a half from the night market, too, so the plan is to eat mango sticky rice we buy from the street vendors every day. I can give up vanilla for a few weeks if I get mango sticky rice every day, no problem.

Breakfast = Tuna and Butter Sandwich

We arrived safely in Bangkok and this morning we jump on another quick flight up to Chiang Mai. Thanks to the fine people at the Star Alliance we had a breakfast and internet access here in the "Royal Silk Lounge." I had a tuna and butter sandwich, nicely complimented by a cheese and butter sandwich.

It's nice to be back in the land of smiles. I'll update you all as I'm able.

Jon Foreman's "Winter" releases today

Jon Foreman's EP "Winter" releases today. I haven't listened to it yet, I'm seeing if I can download it here at the airport. But I'm guessing you'll like it.

In Japan

Yes, that's right, I am sending you out a note from Japan. Travel is going just fine, aside for the lousy movies on the plane. I slept like something that sleeps without stirring. A bear or something. Krista had to climb over me like a mountain climber to get out into the aisle.

Krista went to complain about the stifling heat on the plane to one of the attendants and he said, "We always keep it this warm because people get cold when they are sleeping." His advice to her: "Don't use your blanket."

More great advice for our trip.

We leave in a few minutes for Bangkok, so hopefully I'll get you a note after we get there.

Thanks for the advice, buddy

In the inevitable rush out of the house this morning we forgot our electrical adaptor for our overseas trip. Since electronic devices explode near me anyway, we thought it would be wise to buy an international adaptor so that we would have some sort of device to blame instead of assuming it was me.

The friendly clerk pointed out the different models to me.

Friendly Clerk: -- personally this one is my favorite. It has more parts but less moving parts if that makes sense. This is the one I would buy.

Me: Then I will buy it.

We move to the cash register and perform our well-practiced ballet of purchase.

Friendly Clerk: Where ya going? Somewhere fun?

Me: Thailand.

Friendly Clerk: That is fun. Of course, anywhere I haven't been is fun.

Me: So you haven't been to Thailand, then?

Friendly Clerk: No! I've hardly traveled at all. In fact, I've never traveled outside of the United States.

The Way I See It #289

To find a Starbuck's cup unceremoniously discarded into my yard is to be expected. To find a quote from Chip Giller (founder of the environmentalist website grist.org) on the cup, however, is more irony than one man should be forced to bear.

Brave Writers

Last night Krista and I went to the bookstore. I spent some time wading through the literature section hoping to find a good book to take to Thailand. Krista pointed out that I have a hard time picking out a book because I want to KNOW before I buy it that it's a good book. And she's right. I don't want to waste my time on okay books. I want it to be a mind-blowingly spectacular book.

One thing I noticed last night in the literature section is how many of the quotes on the jackets referred to various authors as being "brave." I wondered about this. What makes them so brave? That they boldly stride to the computer each morning despite the risk of being electrocuted by the mass of electrical wires snarled up behind it? That they recklessly grab paper and stick it into the printer despite the risk of paper cuts? Wow. That *is* brave.

Let's not cheapen the word by using it to refer to writers who decide not to use punctuation, or who decide to end their novels without a strong resolution. If you're looking for a brave writer, try Irina Ratushinskaya.

Oh, and I did manage to find a book for Thailand. It's Dave Eggers' "What is the What". I trust it will fall somewhere between good and spectacular.

the great Vancouver Tornado of '08

For those of you who feverishly scan the newswaves looking for news from my home town, hoping to get a little extra news about me on the days when I don't blog, youve probably already heard about the tornado that came by our house on Thursday.

I was at the library taking a Greek exam. The thunder outside had gotten so loud that it sounded like someone shaking a giant metal sheet in the next building over. My daughter A called to tell me it was hailing, but I went and looked out the window and didn't see anything where I was.

Then one of the library workers came out and said, "Um, this is not a joke. There is a tornado warning for Clark County. We're going to have to ask everyone to move into the meeting room, the safest room in the library."

So we moved into the library. The library guy said, "We apologize for this, we're so sorry for the inconvenience."

An old man shouted, "WHY ARE YOU APOLOGIZING FOR GOD? He doesn't need an apologist! Are you responsible for this tornado?"

The library workers explained that this was the safest room in the library, built to a higher standard than the rest of the library. Someone asked if it was built to withstand tornadoes, which was met with a lot of shrugs. The giant glass double doors made me doubt it.

I decided I should make a run for home rather than being baby-sat by the library staff. I jumped in the car and headed for home. Along the way I saw what looked like piles of snow all over the road... which turned out to be giant piles of hail.

As it turned out, by the time the tornado watch got out there, the tornado had already lifted off again. But we did get some great pictures.

Here's me holding a handful of hail. So much hail had fallen at our house that you could scoop it up like snow.

So: Last week we were in the storm in California and then got snowed in at Grant's Pass on the way home. This week, a tornado in our neighborhood. We're looking for a sponsor from the weather channel.

Lastly, here's a picture of some of the hail on the ground, as well as the strange metal reindeer that seemed to follow in the wake of the tornado. These strange creatures landed with a great clanking all over the neighborhood, nosing aside hail to find scraps of metal, which they ate slowly and carefully before taking to the skies once again.

You have impugned my honor, sir! BALLOON SWORD FIGHT

Here's the closing video from our winter conference, which starts with the dramatic balloon battle between myself and John Rozzelle. Just in case the video doesn't work right on my site, here's the link.



As you can see, it was a great conference.

And I know what you are asking yourself and I will answer you: John and I were completely unscripted as MCs. There is a writer's strike going on, people.

The Wedding

This weekend Krista, her parents, the kids and I stacked ourselves tight into the car and drove to California for my sister Dawn's wedding. There's a picture of her and her husband, Todd, at the left.

We got to see a lot of good friends while we were there and of course my sister Lynn and parents were there, too.

Congratulations, Todd and Dawn! You can see more pictures on Krista's blog.

Greek

I've been putting off my Greek for a variety of Very Good reasons.

Now it's due in less than two weeks.

So I can't put it off any more.

I did two lessons yesterday and two today. And I'm targeting four tomorrow (plus I need to take an exam).

I guess I'll go work on it some more right now, but I was missing the Internet, which has always been a kind, loving and constant friend. Like you, dear friend, just like you.

Why Movies Are Sometimes Better Than Real Life

Tonight we're trapped in Grant's Pass.

We almost made it out but the snow and visibility were dropping like crazy and we decided to hunker down here for the night.

We had several exciting moments along the way. We saw a semi flipped over in a ditch and several cars that had slid into the snow. Also, we noticed a fire on the side of the road, which appeared to be an electrical fire. There was a loud popping sound, and you could smell electricity in the air. I called 911 and reported it while our van sat, stopped on I-5 with the hazards on while snow continued to bury it, the road and everything but the fire. It turned out that the fire department had already received calls about the fire but couldn't find it. So I stood on the highway and tried to explain its precise location for a while. Then my family started to freak out because they thought the transformer (or whatever was aflame) could explode at any moment.

(Favorite moment of the phone call to 911:

ME: Do you want me to climb off the highway, cross the ditch, jump the barbed wire fence and see if I can find an address to help you find the fire?

911 operator: That would be very helpful if you could do that.)

Then, when we finally found a hotel, we discovered that one of Z's boots was missing.

This is why a good movie is better than life, sometimes: closure. Did the semi get out of the ditch? Did the transformer explode and cause a raging fire? Did Z's boot fall out of the car when we put on the chains or when we stopped to report the fire or is it somewhere in the van still?

In a movie we would have satisfying answers to all these questions in 90 minutes or less.

Since a blog is scarcely the real world I will create answers for you (although I will have to continue to live with uncertainty):

1) While the driver of the semi in the ditch was fine, his truck remained in the ditch for many years, and became the home of many forest animals, including a rather friendly family of skunks, who were thankful for the man's misfortune, as it gave them a nice shelter during the winters that followed.

2) Using the clever directions provided by the anonymous tipster (that would be me) emergency services found, fought and destroyed the dangerous fire, which would have surely consumed several towns and all its inhabitants if not for the anonymous tipster's quick thinking, clever wit and pleasant speaking voice.

3) Z's boot, abandoned by the side of the road, slowly filled with snow. When spring came a young child found it and was pleased to have one boot. She hopped around in it all the time and eventually became a champion hopscotcher, lifting her from the status of nerdy girl to hometown hero.

THE END

ROLL CREDITS

Video Games and Why We Play Them

Today we spent 12 hours in the car with the kid and Krista's parents, driving to California for my sister's wedding.

Here's my favorite comment from the day (that I was awake for, anyway). It happened while the kids were taking turns playing games on Krista's iPod.

Z: I killed all the guys who were parachuting down at my gun! I beat the game!

A: You killed the parachute guys? I thought you were supposed to try *not* to kill them!

I love that A's instinctual thought when playing a new game is that she should be trying to save the lives of people parachuting toward her gun. Why she is shooting a gun at all must be a bit of a mystery to her, though.

Happy New Year

I just want to celebrate another year of living.

New Year's Resolution: Eat more, exercise less. Because there has to be a balance.

It was a good New Year's event. Memorable moments:

1) John Rozzelle and "Pops" the puppet making up after a big fight and singing "That's What Friends Are For" to one another.

2) A powerful message from Crawford Loritts. You can see it for yourself below. If you watch carefully you can see me sneaking away before he gets started. (UPDATE: Rumors reach me that the embedded video below isn't working, so you can also check it out here).



3) A kiss from my wife at midnight.

4) As I walked from the hotel back to the conference center to rock in the New Year with the band Eightsweek, a drunken reveler hung out of a window in an apartment building. He brandished in one hand a bottle of champagne. I said happy new year to him, and he happily hoisted his bottle and shouted, "OPEN YOUR MOUTH!" I politely said no thanks and he said, "C'MON, OPEN YOUR MOUTH AND I WILL POUR CHAMPAGNE IN IT!" No, thanks. "OPEN YOUR MOUTH!" He demanded. I gave his window a wide berth. He called a disappointed happy new year after me and returned to his party.

5) Watching 600 people face off in a Rock, Paper, Scissors competition. The winner gave perhaps the finest victory speech I have heard in recent history when he thanked "My Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, Master Illusionist Kriss Angel, and my Mom." It was arguably one of the greatest moments of the conference.

Overall, a very fine New Year.