Duck Daddy and His Six Girls - Day 3

So, I thought I might share a few links to let you know why Bev and I decided to go about the ridiculous task of raising Indian Runner Ducks from day old babies.

Here's our story:

Bev was raised on a farm. Bev does not feel complete without animals around her. From time to time over the 26 years of marriage Bev would call me at work and say, "I have a surprise for you." By the tone of her voice I would realize that she would actually have a surprise for herself, and that it would be a living, breathing, eating, pooping kind of surprise.

"When are you getting off work"

"Soon. I should be home in about an hour."

"Well...I have a surprise for you when you get home."

(pause)

"You got a Greyhound, didn't you?"

(pause)

"No. What makes you think that I would do that?"

Well, guess what was at the front door when I got home. Yep, a greyhound - only a few weeks off the track.

So, Bev has been threatening (she does not see it that way) to get some kind of farm-like animal for awhile.

First she wanted chickens. I reminded her of the stinkiness, and the potential for disease, and since she has bird flu phobia, that idea was nixed easily.

Then it was a desire for a miniature horse. I suggested that with a mere quarter of an acre in urban Salem, MA, and city rules which would make a complaint by a neighbor force you to get rid of your horse that this might not be a good idea. Whew, dodged that one!

Next it was pygmy goats. Dang they are cute! as the below You Tube video link will attest, but I thought that 5 or 6 pygmy goats might be problematic for neighborliness as well. Besides Bev was thinking of something practical, like getting milk from goats. I began to make fun of the idea of milking pygmy goats. I mean, heck what are they gonna do? Stand over your coffee cup in the morning? Do you have milk them with tweezers? Pygmy Goats Stand on Big Dog

Then Bev came up with the idea of getting ducks. She looked at You Tube videos of ducks, read about ducks, and became obsessed with ducks. The prolific Indian Runner Ducks came to the top of her list.

Well, I had a roommate in college who had a couple ducks. The girlie duck laid eggs around the yard, and they were better eggs than one buys at the store. The ducks were easy care, disease resistant (compared to chickens), and not a bother to neighbors who loved them. So realizing that a surprise might eventually be in store, I agreed that ducks would be an acceptable offering for our little urban farm to be. Heck, Mark and Kelly across the street have bees, and they don't even have a quarter of the yard we do.

So, here is my morning offering of our six girls, now on their third day at home with us. I need to show you what their washbasin brooder looks like just before we change it. They play in their water as much as they drink it, and at this age they should not be getting too wet, but everything gets wet, and then they poop like crazy. In fact they will poop in the newly changed washbasin as soon as we put them in it. (We have two basins, and simply rotate them) So, here's the mess they make:

Duck Daddy and His Six Girls - Day 2.5

It's midnight, and I am up having just changed the towels in the washbasin brooder. I will check on them once again before I go to bed.

This is day two of the adventures of Duck Daddy, and oh boy were these six little girls busy today.

When it comes to drinking water these girls have put a full grown man to shame. Did you get your eight full glasses of water today? Well they did! and more! Now it may have taken all six girls to do it, but when you consider that together they might weigh two pounds - maybe, it is amazing that the quart water feeder had to be filled six times today.

We have been using towels on the bottom of our washbasin brooder, and today we must have changed it five times, and I had to do a load of wash to handle all the wet, dirty ones. It is important that these little girls don't get too wet in their first days, so we have to keep their area dry. Keeping ducks dry? and giving them lots of water? Okay someone tell me - what's wrong with this scenario? This sounds like a near impossible task.

Now Bev had the great idea of using Walgreen's super absorbant "Certainty™" underpads instead of the towels we have been using. Whoops bad idea. She cut them to fit the washbasin, and those little duckies started picking out all the stuffing they could pull on. Then the underpads seeped some kind of absorbency goo, and she was afraid the little ducks might eat that nasty, hyper-exotic, neo-chemical stuff. So much for "certainty."

The little ducks sleep. The little ducks rise. The little ducks get excited, and run around the brooder like crazy. The little ducks eat at a frenetic pace. The little ducks do their best to drink a million times their body weight in water.

When they eat they peck at the starter mash
in the little round trough, and then they shake their heads forward and back really fast as though they are trying to get the stuff down their throats. Then after a few seconds of wild head shaking they go to the water trough. Now if it wasn't for the narrow drinking space of the water trough, they would probably go submarine. You have never seen someone as excited about water as these little girls! Sometimes all six of them are crowded around the water trough at the same time pushing and diving in for water. A bite of mash - heads shake - a drink of water - repeat - repeat again - repeat again....

Then they all fade about the same time and huddle up in a little pile together.

Well, I decided to check on them since they last huddled up together for the evening. That was half an hour ago now.Yikes! Don't they ever settle down for more than a few minutes?

Well, our retired racing greyhound, Holly, doesn't really know they exist yet. The girls are in a back room, and Holly doesn't go there. She must hear them squeaking, but we have finches too, so Holly probably thinks the finches are just being noisy the last two days. Here's Holly with a yogurt cup stuck on her snout. Maybe we need to permanently attach it before she meets the ducks.

Duck Daddy and His Six Girls - Day 2

The brooder galvanized washbasin has been kept at 90ºF to keep these little girls warm. Last night while we slept the temperature dropped to about 85º, and they were all huddled together in the morning. So I moved the heat lamp a little closer to raise the temperature back up to 90º.

They sleep in short spurts, and anytime they hear someone in the room they all get up, and get excited. Often they move together like a little troop of clumsy, fuzzy soldiers. I guess this is why Indian Runners are used to train herding dogs in their herding skills.

Last night a mosquito hawk flew into the washbasin. I would not want to be a bug in a duck brooder. I wish I had a picture of that moment. These little girls went to town on that bug. First one saw it, and snagged it with her little bill. She tried to munch on it, but it was a bit too big to swallow. Then another saw what was going on and tried to steal the bug from the first duck. Pretty soon the poor bug was being picked up, dropped, and passed around from duck to duck. They were not quite big or strong enough to kill it, and eat it, but they gave it a solid thrashing until it eventually gave up the bug-ghost. Meanwhile they were all happily squeaking at the adventure.

They are now three days old, and quite active. Indian Runners are funny ducks. They are like the clowns of the duck world. They are very sociable, they stand erect like penguins, and they travel together. I am amazed how erect they stand when excited - even now at only three days old.

Duck Daddy and His Six Girls

Philip the Evangelist had seven daughters who were prophets. Philip of Salem has six daughters. We'll see how prophetic they will be.

Today our six Indian Runner Ducks arrived. They are one day old. They traveled by freight from Pennsylvania to Agway Feed Store in Danvers, MA. I picked them up at Agway and drove them the 4 or 5 miles home in a boot box. Here they are on the ride home. They were chirping all the way, and jumping against the side of the shoebox hotel wanting to get out.

They are all girls (supposedly), and have little white bands around their legs to mark that they were sexed at the duck farm before they were shipped. We don.'t really want to raise ducks in our not too large yard, and we don't want to eat them, but we do want eggs. Indian Runners are supposed to lay as many as 300 eggs a year - that's 300 per duck - that's potentially 1,800 eggs a year.

Once we arrived home, I let Holly (our greyhound) out, and said the famous word she is so fond of - "squirrel!" She ran around the yard, and I carried the girls in past her unobservant nose.

Once inside I took them out of their temporary shoebox home, and placed them in the galvanized washbasin we are using as a brooder.



It took them a little time to figure out how to drink. I placed some water we had prepared with honey (one tablespoon for a quart) in a shallow dish, and they took a bit of time to figure out that they were supposed to drink.

They pecked at the dish from underneath. They tried to climb over it. They tried to climb in it. I guess that makes sense. They are ducks after all.

I had sprinkled finely chopped grass clippings on the water. Apparently this helps them drink. It seemed to work. After the initial drink, they return to their water trough excitedly whenever I add grass clippings.
In a similar manner it took them sometime to figure out the feeder, and begin to eat the starter mash we have in the small feed trough. Once they did eat some mash they would shake their heads trying to get the mash down. I made sure to be there to give them some water at first, but they eventually discovered that it is good to drink after a mouthful of dry mash.

The girls all seem happy and healthy. This is the first hour home, and I am Duck Daddy.
For now, this is the beginning of the adventure of Duck Daddy and his Six girls. I'll be on this duty for at least a month I imagine. So, stay tuned.

Miss USA, Perez Hilton and Prejudice

Prejudice was the news of the day yesterday. The UN racism conference in Geneva had a walkout when Iran's President Ahmadinejad called Israel a racist state. Then Perez Hilton tells us that Miss California lost the title because she made the comment that she does not favor gay marriage.

These are two examples of reverse discrimination in action. Irrespective of one's beliefs about these issues, the fact that reverse discrimination rears its ugly head on the public scene should be noted, and called for what it is - prejudice, racism, and unacceptable public behavior.

Walkout - good. See video here. This speaks for itself. The clowns at the beginning add a little craziness to the spectacle which this already is.

Miss California loosing for graciously disagreeing with same sex marriage - bad. See video here. This is reverse discrimination from the judges of Miss USA. Is it no longer acceptable to be conservative on social issues, and therefore something which disqualifies a person from beauty winning contests? I hope the pageant gets sued for millions, and sponsors back out from supporting them. Perez Hilton's response to someone who disagrees with his personal agenda for living is a prejudiced disgrace. See Perez' response on Larry King here.

Change We Can Believe In? (Part 1)

Guantanamo is to close - within a year. The detainees may end up in Levinworth, or Ireland. Ireland wants them. Levinworth does not. See story from down under.

In day two of action America quietly becomes the world's largest exporter of abortion. See story from over the eastern pond.

Seeing the Middle East from a Jewish Perspective

I know it is popular among many Christians today to openly decry the acts of Israel toward the Gaza, but I can't help but wonder if we have forgotten something about the past in being too quick to pick a side. This evening a couple visited church, and we discussed a afternoon they spent with Iraqi friends who told them they needed to pick a side to understand the issue of the Middle East's struggles. Is the Iraqi friend correct? I don't know.

This I do know, or I should say feel. I am of three main ancestral backgrounds: Primarily Welsh, then somewhere following Norwegian and Jewish. (Yet, I was never raised religiously Jewish, and do not have that background to attach to.) In the my Welsh ancestry I see similar yet less dramatic and tragic similarities to my Jewish heritage.

So tonight I heard this wonderful program on WBUR, an NPR station. It was a program presented at Boston University a week or so ago. I was driving home from church, and heard Elie Wiesel being introduced. I had to run in the house and listen to the program. To understand one perspective of the Middle East struggles, I recommend hearing this program which asks, "Can an Act of Revenge Be Just?"

Listen and go back to "Kristallnacht" The Night of Broken Glass.

More SynchroBlogs on Faith and Ethnicity:

Phil Wyman (That's me) on Seeing the Middle East from a Jewish Perspective
Joshua Jinno the Antechurch
Raffi Shahinian on Faith and Ethnicity: A True Story
Susan Barnes on Just a God of the West
K.W. Leslie on Why I went to an all-white church
Adam Gonnerman on Multicultural experience (and inexperience)
Matt Stone on Is the church ready for a multiethnic future?
Beth Patterson on Viva la particularities
Steve Hayes on Christianity and ethnicity"
Matthew Snyder asks What's Your Nation?
Jeff Goins on Gypsies in Spain

Scenes from Snow Storm in the Northeast (Salem, MA)

Done with that Thick Book on Shamanism!

Okay, I've finally completed something that has been a long time coming. It seems like I've been reading Mircea Eliade's book Shamanism" since I was a little kid. Now I know it has been only a a couple months of start and go reading with lots of underlining and thought as I read, but it still seems like longer.

Yea, I am done, and now I am starting to write my thoughts out about the book at Square No More.

This book is over 50 years old, but still is a great read from a religious historian who writes about shamanism. I will be writing about Jesus, and how He quintessentially answers the search for those looking for hope in the shaman.

The book is a great read. Interested? You can order it below.

Catching up with Iolo Morganwg

Yep, I've been caught reading and eating, reading and walking, and just plain reading too much this week. I feel better, and less guilty about not getting enough reading in. I had better not start reading about someone who prays untold hours each day - then I will develop another guilt complex.

Iolo Morganwg and Feeling Bad About Not Being Able to read Enough

I can not find a copy of the old drawing of the Iolo Marganwg, which I saw yesterday in a book by Ronald Hutton entitled "The Druids," so this is the best I could recapture for now.

Iolo is the founder of modern bardic philosophy and culture as we know it, especially in the nation of Wales. His name is actually Edward, and of course, as a Bard it goes without saying that he must have another name - a real name that is.

My point is this: Iolo was walking and reading at the same time. I remember I used to do that often. I have not done it in some time, but I have so much reading to catch up on, that I thought that I must return to reading and walking.

Of course, doing that kind of thing is what made my mother call me the absent-minded professor when I was a little kid. The absent-mindedness has never left me, so I might as well return to the professorial quirkiness of reading and walking, and other such oddities.

This actually was the kind of moment we evangelicals call a moment of "conviction." I think.

Writer's Block and Tiredness

So, do I have writer's block, because I am so busy, and often tired, or do I have writer's block, because I am now over 50, and getting dumber?

Disgrace of an Election Cycle? I think so.

Today's Wall Street Journal Article by Jeffery Scott Shapiro marks my own feelings better than I can describe. From both the left and the right this has been the worst electoral campaign I have seen in my life. With the exception of McCain's acceptance and concession speeches everything has smacked of partisan bickering, and exaggerated fear tactics. Unfortunately most of it has been leveled at Bush. I have been ashamed at times of my own Christian brethren who have joined the rancerous banter of Bush bashing. Should we all be ashamed of ourselves? Read the article here. Could it be that those who behave in this manner are part of the problem in American politics - not part of the answer?

Why I Voted for McCain

I really leaned toward writing in Ben Stein, but decided that I would vote McCain at the end. What I saw in his acceptance speech at the Republican Convention, and what I saw last night in the concession speech make me realize that I made the right vote. These are the things I expect in politics:

Boston Legal, Calling People Stupid and The Sickness of Politics in America

I just finished watching Boston Legal. It was not simply television entertainment, but a horrendously biased commercial for Barrack Obama. This is the second experience in the last few days, which has disgusted me about politics, and the human heart.

A couple days ago, I had a discussion with a man who is intelligent, works with people in government positions, and was born in the Netherlands. He said that he can not believe how stupid Americans are. This was based upon Americans choosing Republicans in their electoral choices.

Should Boston Legal be forced to charge Barrack Obama tens of millions of dollars for the commercial time they gave to him?

Should every person who continues to use the tired old argumentum ad hominem of stupidity as the only reason one would vote Republican be called on the carpet for being stupid enough to use that argument? (Republicans occasionally use that argument, but it is normally the Democrats who use it, and it is unfortunately all too common to hear in the Boston area.)

I am sure that politics are sick in every country, but it has reached unbelievable proportions, and this has been the worst Presidential election for people being divided and cruel I have seen in my voting days, which began in 1976.

Both parties declare themselves to be the agents of change. They have both proven that they do not have what it takes to change the politics of the age, because neither of them have run a different kind of campaign. Positive change still seems a long ways off to me.

My Favorite Article about Bailout Plan

Just had to link to this. Now this is thinking that I can identify with. It is kind of harsh sounding, but it makes sense to me. Maybe the first thing that has made sense in all this economic talk yet.

Do you think that bankruptcy may indeed be the answer to the problem instead of being the big fearful monster to avoid?

My Thoughts on Bailout Plan Failure

Barney Frank says that Republicans were offended by Nancy Pelosi's partisan speech about the bailout plan, and so decided to punish the American people. I say, muzzle Barney, please.

In the final tally, 140 Democrats and 65 Republicans voted in support, while 95 Democrats and 133 Republicans voted against it. That is bipartisan rejection! Were 95 Democrats offended by Nancy? No. These are people who really had a problem with the bill.

I love this reporter's notebook view of the moments before the vote. Don't get uppity you anti-Fox News People. This is a great article of those few moments.

The Democratic Congressman from our region, John Tierney voted against the plan. Yeah John! One Democratic Congressman who voted against it, whose name I can not remember said that something this large should take more than 9 days to consider, because the best we could get is a bad plan. I'm with him.

Who's Grandstanding Now?

"Paulson and Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernanke made their case for the bailout plan Wednesday in a closed-door meeting with House Republicans. Those who were there said lawmakers voiced new doubts, and said their constituents are overwhelmingly opposed.

House GOP leader John Boehner said Americans are "furious" that they're being asked to put up $700 billion. But he added that Congress "has a responsibility to act," and that he hopes a bipartisan deal can be reached.

A Republican said only four of his GOP colleagues raised their hands during the meeting when asked how many of them supported the plan. Tom Davis of Virginia said it's a "terrible plan," but that he hasn't "heard anything better.""

Above quote comes from this article on the 24 of September - three days ago.

Now, there has been talk from Democrats like Barney Frank (from my state) who have been saying that McCain's short reprise from his campaign was grandstanding. Yet Barney, and Chris Dodd and others have been saying that the Republicans who disagreed with the bailout plan should have stated something before everyone sat down at the table.

Okay, if their disagreement was public knowledge before they sat down together, who's grandstanding now?

I had mentioned on my other blog that this political season was having me wanting to move to Wales, and and join a peaceful Free Wales movement (simply to have something to really care about). Things haven't changed - except this, I will post my political thoughts on this blog from now on, and I think I'm leaning right on the bailout plan.

Life with Forrest

A few weeks back our ol' buddy Forrest the three legged Greyhound contracted an infection in his remaining back leg. Within a couple short days the infection spread throughout his entire back leg. The leg was compromised having had surgery when he lost his other leg in the surgery back on Halloween '06. We miss him desperately, but after a few days watching the progress of the infection knew we would have to say goodbye to him. That's him smiling big above.

Holly is pictured with him, and she is adapting to life without Forrest. She howls when we leave her at home alone, and snuggles up real close to us in the bed. We adopted Forrest and Holly together, and they had been ever together since they both retired from the racetracks about 8 years ago.

Forrest had really become my buddy. The last two years were filled with caring for him as he recovered from his accident, and the lessons I learned about life while caring for him are far more valuable to me than they were to him I am sure.

If animals end up in heaven, of which I do not have a theological consideration one way or the other, I will want to sit down with Forrest and spend some time hanging out with him long before I will want to visit the typical heroes of my faith like Paul the Apostle, Petr Chelcicky, John Huss, or Harald Bredesen.

Loving Living in Salem

Many of my friends are Witches and Pagans of various types. Tonight some of them gathered for a Pagan Pub Crawl here in Salem.

There were a few new faces, and a few people I have met before but have not gotten to know well. I spent time talking with a Witch who for years practiced being both a Witch and a Christian (first Fundamentalist Baptist, then Greek Orthodox), but gave up trying to be Christian, because "it didn't work." Another woman told of receiving a letter from her sister in law filled with clippings from Chick Tracts. Then I met the owner of the new tattoo parlor here in Salem. The parlor owner was not a Pagan, but perhaps a Buddhist, or maybe a Thelemite. There were discussions of life and death rituals in ancient religious cultures, and discussions about the variety of experiences which Pagans have had with other Christians.

All in all it was a good night with friends who are far different than myself, and who walk in a world not my own. At one point someone mentioned Amsterdam, and suggested that although he loved the city, it probably would not be a city I would feel comfortable living in. I suggested that might be the very reason I would like it all the more. I do believe it is true that I would be quite bored in an environment in which everyone was just like me. After all - I do live in Salem, and I love it.

Glossalalia (Tongues) My Tiny Miracle in Spanish

Tonight I had a weird, but wonderful experience. I spoke Spanish. Okay, I know that millions of people speak Spanish, but I do not. Well, I know a few words like "Mas leche por favor," "taco," and "via con Dios." Perhaps a hundred words of Spanish might be found in my vocabulary if I thought about it hard and long, but that's what happens when you've been to Mexico, and lived near the Mexican border most of your life.

Yet my experience speaking Spanish was unknown to me until after it happened, and it occurred in a spontaneous moment of worship during our Sunday evening service. As a group we spent sometime singing improvisationally to a worship song, simply creating words of praise from our hearts. I sang in tongues during this time, and when the song ended Carlos asked if I knew that I was worshiping in Spanish.

Cool. I have been praying each morning this week about receiving the gift of interpretation of tongues, and then added that I would also like to speak in languages of this earth which I have never learned. Is this the beginning to answering that prayer? I dunno.

Skepticism can be had on this issue, but all I know is that it was weird and cool, all at once, and I am thinking that God was doing something unique among the small group at church tonight.

For more on the experience see the post at our church blog.

Lakeland 2.0 - Testimonials and Comments from Salem Outpouring

The Salem Outpouring is a small version of Lakeland. I guess that would be Lakeland 2.0 in mini version at the moment.

People responded to my last post about the Salem Outpouring, and I thought it might be nice to post their experiences here. So here it goes, unedited, but perhaps with a comment or two from the peanut gallery (me).

"I was there from 7 to about 9:45, when the message was underway, so I didn't see any of what you describe. However, I do think I ought to say that the previous 2+ hours of worship, in particular a very tender and powerful sharing of the Eucharist early on, were amazing. I more or less see the narrative motivating events like these, and the "This Is It" hype, as a discardable part of that religious culture.... but I'm sure that would be harder to do for people who've been inside it." (the commenter is an episcopal priest and comfortable all types of religious settings)

This next person visited on the same night as well.

"Thank you, Pastor Phil, for your thoughtful story -- and, wow, what an incredible photo of the surfer and the wave.

Most of the people at revivals and outpourings are not there to receive physical healings or to witness them. They are there because they are radically in love with Jesus Christ, their Lord and Savior, the God who became a human being and walked among us, took the hit for us by dying on the Crsss. Why? He is radically in love with us. We want more of Him. We love because He loved us first.

Pastor Phil, you are an observant and articulate person. You must have noticed, for example, how much the ushers extend themselves to help with the needs of any visitors. I attended on Friday night, too, the same as you. I asked my companion, "Are you thirsty? I'll go get us some water."

An usher overheard us and came back with two bottles of water. No charge.

Jesus bless you."


This next post came from someone from our church who visited two nights after my own visit.

"I went to this event tonight because a friend of mine called me, someone I used to sit side by side in church and haven't now for a year and a half, I've missed her and others that I love. It was wonderful to be there again and see a few familiar faces enjoying the vibrant crowd praising God. For me, worshiping God among those I have relationship with is powerful. Praying for healing for those I know, or recieiving prayer from those that know me personally make it real.

There are things that make it hard for me to worship in the setting tonight...but I just kept praying that God would increase his truth, his word, and his glory, and decrease anything else in the way. I don't want to cut into the worship or what God might do with my critical judgmental thoughts.

Seeing people seeking out healing from God so passionately is great. My prayer is that the Lord will not only bring healing tonight (as a lot of the emphasis was on the event and the timing of receiving blessing right then and there) but also that people will walk away and carry with them the knowledge that the living spirit of God restored them and will continue to do so if only they look to him.

We sometimes need to appeal to our emotions to get carried to a place where our hearts are freer, but it's important that we know the limitations and the distractions of our emotions as well.

God also brought to my heart, when I was feeling awkward or uncomfortable given the different style of expression of faith and when my heart was full of doubt or skeptism, that I need to pray for other churches communities in addition to my own. May Jesus continue to be the focus. May Jesus bring healing to broken hearts, bodies and relationships in all of God's churches, and between them as well.

It's also nice to go to this kind of event and be able to see the good, and have grace for the weird instead of only seeing the weird so I can't even see what God might show me.

It was a BEAUTIFUL thing to see diversity represented as well. How awesome was that!"


Here is another post from someone who was there on the night I visited, and recalled the exact story I told:

"Pastor Phil: I was there too. I feel that you misread the healing time that you mentioned. The woman they were praying for was hispanic and even though they had an interpreter, there was some miscommunication because of the language barrier. The important thing is that she was healed.
I was there Saturday night and they mentioned that GOD was healing many different things. I was healed for a shoulder ailment that I have had for several years. I know that I was healed.

God is the same today as he was 2000 years ago. He still heals. He still seeks unity amoung his churches. What is happening is Salem, aside from the healings, is a great deal of unity among the churches. This is a great testament to GOD. It is a great testament to the memory of Rev. Arthur Robinson and Rev. Rocco Rezza (who recently passed away). Unity among the churches and nationalities is paramount for the advancement of the Kingdom.

Come back this week, give us a chance. Let go of your hurts and let GOD heal you!"


This particular post warranted a response so here is what I said:


"I did not misread that situation. You will notice that I mention that she is Spanish speaking, and that there was an interpreter.

The fact is that she was asked to touch her toes before she was asked what was wrong with her. Herniated discs and touching toes are not a great combination. Now if she is still healed today, and a week from now that is good. If she still has pain, I am concerned that someone was asked to do something potentially harmful in the context of faith healing.

As far as your healing. May the Lord continue to keep you in health, and may the Lord be blessed for what He has done.

It seems that you are making an assumption that I must be harboring hurts and therefore have disagreement with the revival. I do not disagree with these meetings, but I do think that "the little foxes spoil the vine" as they used to say in Pentecostal circles years ago, and it is still true that small things can create big problems. These concerns have been consistent for 25 years - long prior experiencing deceit and false judgments at the hands of Pentecostal leaders. So "healing" doesn't change my concerns.

If the outpouring meetings continue I will visit as I am able.

Rev. Robinson I met years ago, before we moved here. He laid hands upon me when we came to visit him at home in his last few years, and he laid hands upon me and prophesied that I would wear his mantle. What that means I am not sure. That is just what happened in his kitchen on Franklin Street back in the early 90's." (my response)

That's all or now

Not Sure How to Think about Revival - Still

I admit readily that I have been jaundiced by my experiences with Pentecostal revivalist Christians who have been my bane in the last few years. They have proven themselves to be hypocritical, and judgmental, and I have been on the receiving end of this judgment.

Yet, I have been leery of revivalism even before the season of my struggle with my former fellow journeymen in the faith began.

Tonight I visited a meeting happening here in Salem for a half hour or so, and here is what I experienced:

"This woman says she has back back pain. We are going to pray for you. Is that okay?"

The Spanish speaking woman nods her head. The large screen projecting the service to the back of the room shows her face.

"Now as I pray touch your toes. Have you been able to touch your toes since you've had this problem? No?"

The woman shakes her head signifying no.

"Can you touch your toes now?"

Again she shakes her head negatively.

"Go ahead try to touch your toes as we pray."

The woman on the screen reaches down to touch her toes. She is a mother in her late twenties or early thirties.

"Did that hurt?"

She nods affirmatively, and mouths some words I can not hear.

"It hurts a little bit? Let's do it again. Reach down and touch your toes as we pray for you."

She does this again.

"Did it hurt this time?"

She shakes her head, and says, "No."

A brief conversation between the man praying, the young mother, and the interpreter ensues.

"A hernia? Oh a herniated disk. Folks, she has had 2 herniated disks for the last 2 years. No, 2 herniated disks for 6 years! She has had 2 herniated disks for 6 years and tonight she has no pain."

The crowd cheers.

"Oh excuse me. She has had 2 herniated disks for 6 months, and tonight the she has no pain."

The crowd cheers again. Less fervently this time.

I was standing in the back, and put my face in my hands. I thought to myself. Why didn't you ask about the specifics of her condition before you asked her to bend over?"

I am still not fond of the word revival. This particular revival meeting has a connection to the Lakeland, FL event, and I think that there were about 200 people in attendance when I popped in very late for a few minutes tonight.

Late Night with Jamiacan Special and Thinking About Stuff

So tonight was a generally good night at The Vault. I came home following our 6pm service, and decided I wanted to smoke a big ol' fatty Jamaican Special cigar. Not really being a smoker I have them for our guys cigar smoking group, which I jokingly refer to as "Padron Me." Stupid Christian humor I suppose, and maybe a pun most people won't get.

So I laid under the stars on this first 70º night in Salem this year. I contemplated the peacefulness of God as I gazed on the stars through the branches of the silver maple tree in our yard, and periodically had to get up to take care of Forrest our three legged greyhound.

Tomorrow at 5am (only 5 hours from now) I will rise to go work at Starhouse. Within the next couple weeks I will transition from this morning job to a position as a liaison to DSS - I think.

I am hoping to get back to writing regularly again.

Support - what does it mean to you?

What is "support" I have been wondering. Is it making money? Is it emotionally being concerned? Is it being encouraging? Is it all of the above? Is it a combination, which is less quantifiable, and has to do with issues of the heart?

Could it be that there are times someone appears to be supportive, because they carry out all the right actions, but in reality they are unsupportive, because they do not believe in or care for those things which concern us.

What is it to you? and how does this determine how you support others?

Will the Pope Click His Heels?

So this is my favorite story of the Pope's visit. He wears ruby red shoes. It was an NPR listener who made this even more fun. "Does he click his heels and say, 'There's no place like Rome?'" she asked.

No Place for Hate - Running Sound for Witches

I have a propensity for getting myself in trouble. So here we go again. I am setting up sound, and running it for an event called No Place for Hate. The famed Pagan author Margot Adler will be there, and it will be focused on Wiccan lifestyles, and faith. So, here I am once again jumping into the middle of places most Evangelicals (and our little angels) fear to tread. ;-)

Here's more info on the event:

No Place for Hate Committee to Host Panel Discussion
on the Faith and Lifestyles of the Wiccan Faith

The City of Salem’s No Place for Hate Committee will be hosting a panel discussion the evening of April 12th which will focus on practices within the Wiccan faith and the everyday lifestyles of those practicing Paganism. The objective of the event is to inform those in attendance about the religion, lifestyle and culture of those who practice Wicca while also touching on the history and its distinction within the Salem community.

The panel discussion, which will be held on the second floor of Old Town Hall, will be moderated by Salem State College Professor Elizabeth Duclos-Orsello. The discussion will be led by No Place for Hate Committee member Jerrie Hildebrand and Margot Adler of National Public Radio (NPR) and is sponsored by the Salem Witch Museum.

Ms. Adler is the host of NPR’s Justice Talking and is a regular on shows such as All Things Considered, Morning Edition and Weekend Edition. She has been a Wiccan priestess for over 35 years. In 1979, she wrote the book Drawing Down the Moon, a classic study of Neo-Paganism and Wicca which was recently revised and updated. Ms Adler also wrote Heretic's Heart, a 1960's memoir of her life. In addition, she is also a co-producer of the award winning radio drama, War Day.

Ms. Hildebrand is creative principal of a Salem-based marketing company. Since 1986, Ms. Hildebrand has worked with various national religious freedom organizations on issues pertaining to the Wiccan and Pagan religions and in 2005 was ordained by Circle Sanctuary. More notably, Ms. Hildebrand was part of the team from Circle Sanctuary that led the effort in getting the U.S. Department of Veteran Affairs to add the pentacle to its list of official emblems for the headstones and markers of Wiccan veterans. She illustrated the final version of the official emblem now used.

Both Ms. Adler and Ms. Hildebrand have traveled throughout the country to conferences separately and together doing presentations and discussion on related subjects. After the two are through speaking, the panel will open to questions from the public.

This will be the second event sponsored by the No Place for Hate Committee within its second year of existence. In June of 2007, the City of Salem was officially named a No Place for Hate community by the Anti-Defamation League (ADL) after the Committee organized three events which focused on promoting respect and diversity. The Committee will need to sponsor two events each year in order to regain the City’s certification as a No Place for Hate community.

The Panel Discussion on Wicca and Paganism is free and open to the public. It will be held on Saturday, April 12th at 7 pm in Old Town Hall. The event will also feature opening remarks by Mayor Kimberley Driscoll and will conclude with a song from Rev. Amy “Gypsy” Ravish from the Temple of Nine Wells located in Salem.

Wales - Grand Slam! Six Nations Rugby

I spent this afternoon with my Welsh friends at McGann's Pub in Boston. It was a day of Rugby games. I arrived while England was trouncing Ireland (to my surprise), and to the chagrin of the green jerseys in the standing room only pub.

The Wales/France game began at 1pm, and only a lone voice or two with French accents rose in the pub now filled with more red shirts than remaining Irish green. This was unique moment for the Boston Welsh Society, and in fact for a Welsh gathering in the US. There was actually a good group of Welsh together and yelling for their team.

As the game began, the Welsh expats, and myself stood and sang the Welsh national anthem together. Well, I gave it a try, but still haven't memorized the words. Sorry for the 2005 link, but the 2008 one isn't out yet.

"Wales! Wales! Wales...!" the pub rocked with the cheering, and the flags of the Ddraig Goch, and Aled Jones' red and yellow flag of Owain Glyndwr flew whenever Wales scored. After a mixed first half of trading penalty kicks, and France beginning to show some serious muscle on the run, Wales hard hitting defense, and ability to take advantage of mistakes paid off with a second half rout.

29-12 was the final score. Phil Budden, the British Consul General in Boston arrived toward the end of the game, and provided free Beer and Guinness for we celebrating Welsh fans. I can't describe how at home I feel with anything Welsh. Strange for a California boy (or is that "boyo?") like myself.

So, at the end I suggested a plan for putting St. David's day on the map next year in Boston. If you are Welsh, you will want to watch for this! The more people we can get to participate the more media attention we can get. We are going to pray like St. David on St. David's Day! Like those early Celtic monks, we are going to gather a group together to stand in the river up to our waists on St. David's Day next year! Wanna join the fun? It'll be followed by a seriously Welsh Saint practice of downing a pint following I'm sure! Watch for information to come sometime late this year.

Where I Hope to be Some March 1st

An Air Car - And They Don't Even Need Preachers!

Check out this story - a car that runs on air. For long trips it will run on hot air - and they don't even need preachers. Is this cool or what?!

Oh Yeah! Global Warming Blessings

I'm not sure what to do with this news, except to say, "Hmmmmmm," and maybe wax up my board in hopes of surfing in New England without a wetsuit. Oh, and of course, mention that I am not sure of the accuracy of "global warming science."

The Ongoing Saga of the '86 740 Volvo Turbo Diesel Wagon

So the old car was left behind in Asheville, North Carolina at Elijah's house, and I traveled home with mom and Bev. Now here I am a few weeks later back in Asheville, thanks to really cheap airfare on Skybus, and I have been trying to find out what was wrong with the old beast.

I posted on Craig's List asking for a diesel mechanic in Asheville. Gerald wasn't returning my calls, or perhaps I had the wrong number, which was quite possible. I received an e-mail from a guy whose e-mail address was volvoist@.... Well that was promising, but he turned out to be from New Jersey, and just loved these old cars. He once had an old Volvo Diesel, and wrote like someone who knew these well. We wrote back and forth, and he suggested that the head gasket was blown as one of his first thoughts.

Then Charlie called, "I'm not a mechanic, but I've got a Volkswagon Rabbit Diesel truck, and over the last four years I've gotten to know these engines pretty well." You see, the old Volvo has a Volkswagon engine. He offered to check it out for $10 an hour - $15 for repairing.

Charlie came over. He looked at the car, and was totally excited, "This is a really rare car. Not many of these were made, and it's a wagon!"

He tried all kinds of ways to get it going - but no go. We wrote back and forth to Mike the Volvoist Dude a few times, and he kept saying "Sounds like a head gasket to me. These cars are finicky, and often will not start if the head gasket is blown."

This was a few days ago. Well now, a blown head gasket might not be much in parts, but it is much in either time or money. Since I live in Massachusetts time in North Carolina fixing a car is the same as money. So I reluctantly put the old beast on Craig's List one more time - for sale. This did not make me happy. I had been troubled by what looks like a loose-loose situation.

Sell the car and need another vehicle to pull the trailer in the next few months, or spend money fixing something that I really don't have the money or time to fix. So Craig's list it was. This morning the car went on the list at about 9:30am.

Around 10am Charlie called. He saw the car on Craig's List.

"So, you're gonna sell it, huh?"

"Yeah. I hate to, but I don't have the time r money to fix it."

"That's too bad, but I'm excited. I'll buy it from you." Charlie said.

It kinda takes the sting out of selling it. I like Charlie. He loves the car, and will keep the old beast going, and it will definitely become what it was destined to be - a grease car. Charlie hasn't paid for gas in a few years. He and his buddies make bio-diesel, and he runs completely off that.

HERETIC OR HEALER? - I sure hope Spencer Burke is correct

So, I never really finished the book by Spencer Burke called "The Heretics Guide to Eternity," but I guess it's time. The Salem Gazette came out with bold creepy looking letters in extra large font on the front page yesterday asking people to consider whether I was a "HERETIC OR HEALER". They posted the question above this nice, but dark mysterious photo.
Of course, I am being contrasted with one of the Halloween sign wielding, bullhorn preachers from Repent America, but it still is a little a strange to be placed in the heretic category by people who do not know what I believe, or whose doctrine is further from historic orthodoxy than my own.

So what's a guy to do. Turn the page and read the whole article I guess, then look at the milder photos. Actually they are all great photos - good job David!
I guess I'll finish reading Spencer's book, and see how to get to heaven. All tnhis because I have friends who are Witches.

Day Five to Asheville - Sunday, December 30th - 28 miles to go!

Five days to Asheville - this is getting ridiculous. It shoul dhave been two, but driving between 40 and 60 MPH had slowed us down. Worse yet, having to drive only by day, because the alternator was charging too little, and hitting the New York, New Jersey traffic made it slower still.

(When I wrote this sentence originally I mistyped alternator as "laternator." Seems so appropriate now.)


After stopping the night before, I let the engine run for a few minutes, and hoped to recharge the battery once again. During the evening I was able to watch the Patriots conclude their regular season with the perfect 16-0 record with the come from behind win against the Giants. Even my mom enjoyed that game.

It was raining. I put on my trademark Gortex hat and went out to the start the car. The battery was low, and so I found a guy with a pickup truck to help me jump the car. He pulled up to help me out, and we let the battery charge a bit while we stood and talked in the drizzling cold rain. He was headed to California for a 3 month long job as a boiler repair guy at a refinery in LA.

Once I went to the start the car I would not start up. I had no sense of engine problems upon letting it idle the night before, but no matter how much I tried the car would not start. It had lots of charge, and even sounded like it had fuel getting to it each time I initially turned the key, but it would not start.

My new found friend from Florida who was headed to California stayed to help. We stood in the slowly increasing rain, and tried several times. A diesel emergency repair truck came into the parking lot. The shop happened to be right in front of my car, and they were working on this Sunday morning. The owner of the shop was in the truck, and I thought that this was exactly what I needed. He pulled out the ether to work his magic, but the car still would not start. He stood and looked at it and said, "It got spark. It sounds like its getting fuel. I been doin' this fer 22 years, and I can't say I ever seen somethin' like this. It won't even take the ether."

Great. So I have the unique situation with my '86 740 Volvo Diesel wagon. Unique cars - unique problems I guess.

We said goodbye to our friend from Florida, and called Elijah and Rhonda. They drove up to Waynesville from Asheville to pick us up.

We left the Volvo and the trailer at Midway Motel in Waynesville, NC on Sunday, December 3, and 28 miles later we were at Elijah and Rhonda's house in Asheville, NC - but their house is another tale. The tale of the 1986 740 Volvo diesel wagon will continue tomorrow. Tomorrow would be Monday and we could deal with it then.

Fourth Day to Asheville - Saturday, December 29th - Over the Great Smoky Mountains

Sorry for posting this late. I did not have internet access on the final part of the trip, and was busy working on Elijah's place once we got to Asheville. We are home now, but here is the continuing story - in a couple posts

The Ramada Inn in Harrisonburg, VA has a breakfast as part of the deal. They also require that someone with a pet sign a paper saying that they will not leave the pet in the room alone. Bev and mom had some breakfast. I stayed with Crash the Hound in the room. They brought me some biscuits and gravy, even though I had hoped to go to the breakfast room myself, but I ate quickly and started the the old 740.

This morning "the beast" started up immediately. I have become pretty good at backing the Volvo up to the trailer hitch, and don't need someone to stand there and line me up. I had backed the ball under the trailer hitch the night before in the rain, and was able to simply drop the hitch down an the ball, hook up the lights, and make sure everything was ready to go.

We packed our few bags and Crash the Hound, and were headed for the Great Smoky Mountains.

The day before Highway 81 took us along the Blue Ridge Mountains, and the old Volvo 740 diesel beast took some of the hills easily at 60 MPH, and others dragged on long at 40-45 MPH. At one point I had to pass someone on a hill, because they were going so slow, and I remarked that this was probably the third vehicle I had passed in three days. Even the big rigs were passing me on the hills.

The day looked something like this: Drive for an hour. Pull over and add some water. Drive an hour. Get some gas, and check the coolant again. Drive an hour. Get some lunch. Check the coolant. Drive again. Always I watched the temperature as I drove up the hills.

I had previously been warned by Elijah not to take route 26 from the 81 down to Asheville, because it is a steep difficult climb into the mountains. Instead we opted to take a longer route. We would travel into Tennessee, and take the 40 east back into Asheville. According to a few friends who knew the area somewhat, and an online discussion about the routes in and out of Asheville, it appeared that this route would be winding, but less steep than others, and so we headed toward Tennessee, and the 40 east.

Upon entering Tennessee we came to the top of long hill, and the car was registering hot so we stopped at a rest stop at the top of the hill to check and fill the levels. I thought it was getting hotter than it should have and discovered that i forgot to replace the oil cap on the previous stop. Fortunately it was still sitting in the top of the engine, and I did not loose it on the drive.

I had been running the heater to keep the temperature down, and the running lights on the trailer, so I was not able to restart the engine, I had to get a jump. Across the highway was a guitar store shaped like a monster guitar. Any other time I would have had to visit the place.

It was late afternoon and we started what would be our last leg to Asheville - west on the 81 to 40 east and over the Great Smoky Mountains.

The car ran well all through the rest of the trip until we reach the windy section of the Great Smokies. The roads were steep, and had switchbacks almost like hair pin turns at times. This was the most difficult climb we had made on the whole journey, and it was getting late. If it got too dark I would have to stop, because we still could not turn on our headlights without draining our battery too low. So I had until about 5:30pm until it was too dark.

The hill got steeper, and the car was only able to pull the trailer at about 40 MPH. The big trucks behind me weren't doing any better it turned out. After a number of miles I pulled over at a rest stop to allow the car to cool down, and added some coolant. After unscrewing the cap slowly to allow the pressure to release, I waited a moment to add the coolant. Suddenly coolant came bubbling up into the overflow tank, and out over the top. I released why I had been loosing coolant along the trip. My thermostat had suddenly released and the water was flowing out all over. The cap had pressure release valves, and apparently thy had been letting the fluid and steam out when the thermostat released. Perhaps this had not been working properly the entire trip - then again perhaps I was just pulling too much weight for this poor little old 740 diesel wagon.

I now was getting too dark, and I did not have much distance to go, but it was still too far to Asheville to travel. I would need to use m y lights any moment. I got back on the road, and made it to the last exit to Waynesville, NC. We stopped at the Midway Motel. The name should have given me a clue about where we were, but I was too tired to think about it. I back the trailer into a slot next to the big rigs, and we got a room for the night, knowing we only had 20-30 miles left to get to Elijah's house in Asheville.

Third Day to Asheville - Fri. Dec. 28th

Of course there should not have been a third day to Asheville. We should have arrived yesterday, but then we could not drive by night, because we can't run with both our headlights on and the trailer lights and still recharge the battery - even with the rebuilt alternator, and the new battery.

But here we were in New Jersey. The first day we only got out two hours in the evening, and had to stop in Sturbridge, MA. The second was all traffic through Connecticut, New York City, and New Jersey, because we had to travel by day.

I attempted to start the car in the morning, but after ending the previous evening driving around looking for the motel with my lights on I did not have enough power to start it. We had hoped to be on the road by 7am, but after waiting for AAA to help start the car we did not leave until after 8am.

Leaving the Econo Lodge on the New Jersey Turnpike we headed south, and were able to travel a little faster than the previous two days. Now we were typically traveling between 55 and 60MPH, and the trailer wasn't swaying behind us - well, I had to slow down once in a while. So we were making our best time yet.

We were supposed to be staying at Rhonda's dad's house just south of DC, but that was supposed to be after the first day of driving. We knew that traveling by day only, we would just have to go as far as possible. Bev called Sarah (Rhonda's step-mom) and told her we would just have to travel as far as we could during the limited daylight.

After traveling nicely for a couple hours we came to long gentle inclines on 95 in Maryland. We were taking the hills a little faster than the previous days, but soon we found that the old 740 was over-heating. We pulled over at a roadside stop, and I found that I needed to add quite a bit of fluid to the cooling system, and wondered where it all went. This became the ongoing problem for the day. We would travel a ways. We would watch the water heat gauge rise as we traveled up hills. We would stop. I would find no leak in the system. I would add coolant - sometimes lots of it. We would travel again.

At 4pm it grew dark. It began to rain at about 4:30pm as we were traveling down highway 81 in Virginia. I suggested we go as far as Harrisonburg, and so we made it to the Ramada Inn - another place where they accepted dogs.

Moments of interest along the way:

We were talking about Charlton Heston, and mentioned Bible Movies, and guns. Bev was sitting in the back seat, and thought we said Charlton Heston was about Bibles, boobies, and guns. I suppose that might make a good book title.

We made our last stop before coming into Harrisonburg. Once again we were over-heating, and ended up low on coolant. Bev and mom saw a used car, and trailer lot on thee side of the road. They wanted to stop, and trade the Volvo in for a truck to pull the trailer. Hmmmm...good idea except for the fact that I have a 1986 Volvo with 215,000 miles, and I'll get a few hundred for it, and need to pay a couple thousand for something I can be just as confident about.

Well, I unhooked the trailer after arriving here, and drove to a store across town - in the dark with the lights on, and Crash the hound in the car. I made it out and back. The alternator will charge the battery sufficiently as long as the trailer is not attached with its lights it appears.

Second Day to Ashville - December 27th

We awoke late.

The curtains in hotel rooms keep all light from the room. It was 8am, and we jumped up, and all got on the move like we were Marine Corps privates being yelled at by our the Sarge.

The parking lot was slippery, because there was an ice rain over the night.

I went to the old Volvo hoping for a minor miracle - that the old diesel might start. Bev was walking Crash hoping for a minor miracle - that he might pee. I sat in the front seat, put the key in the ignition, whispered a prayer, and turned it. It roared to life!

Crash just sniffed the snow, he did not pee.

We began our travels toward North Carolina once again. We were not much farther than the night before. I had discovered the previous night that I could not travel much above 50 MPH. The trailer wanted to fishtail if I went much faster, so my travels would be quite slow. Besides that I was lucky to hit 50 MPH on a decent hill.

So here was the challenge for the day: I was going to be traveling slow - between 40 and 55 MPH. I was going to be getting hot going uphill, and turning on the heat would be necessary to help keep the engine cool. All extra electrical draws upon the engine would have to be avoided so I could keep the battery charged enough to start it each time I stopped - thus, no lights, no radio, no heat. Okay, this was going to be tough.

So here is our plan: Travel by daylight. Use the heat only when straining uphill. Go as fast as safely possible - probably 45 to 55 MPH.

We got going about 8:30am, and hit South Western Connecticut, New York City, and New Jersey between 11am and 3pm. Yep, it took that long to go that short distance. What would be an hour without traffic took almost 4 hours. This is what I hoped to avoid - traveling by night.

When the traffic was normal speed everyone passed us. Big trucks roared by, and nearly caused the trailer to fishtail behind me each time. When the traffic was crawling I almost was thankful for it - it crawled for hours.

Bev and Mom laughed about the journey, and talked about how we looked like the Clampett's headed to Beverly Hills. I was intent on the road, and the trailer, and tense with concern for safety's sake, and for the prayer that the old car would keep going. Such tension made me grumpy if my attention was diverted even a little. By about 3:30pm we were more comfortably traveling the New Jersey Turnpike, and sometimes safely traveling at 60 MPH. Woo-Hoo!

We made a couple roadside stops. It wasn't until almost 4:00pm that Crash peed. He peed a long, long time. That was good.

As the daylight wore to an end I had to turn on my lights, and we looked for a hotel. Here I am at EconoLodge at exit 5 off the New Jersey turnpike.

Driving by daylight worked. I can drive with my running lights so the trailer has its lights on, and periodically use the heater to keep the engine cool going uphill, and still recharge the battery sufficiently to start it easily again, but the headlights draw on the power way too quickly, and I noticed this even having them on for half-on-hour tonight.

It is dark by 5pm. This is not a good time of year to have to drive by day.

Benezir Bhutto was assassinated today. The owners of the hotel are of Indian or Pakistani descent - I am not sure which. They were quite caught up in the news when we arrived, and seemed almost rude, but then we had not heard the news until after we checked in.

I walked around the area found a mall, a Coldstone Ice Cream, and brought mom and Bev a surprise treat. It was a treat for Crash too. He likes to lick the cups afterward.

Tomorrow we leave earlier than today, and hopefully do not have the traffic we had today. But alas, Washington DC is ahead of us.

I've been having to add a little anti-freeze at each stop, and a little oil at every other stop. This old Volvo burns oil pretty quickly.

First day to Asheville - December 26th

We decided to leave in the evening. Traveling from Salem, MA to North Caroline requires that we go through Connecticut, New York and New Jersey. By any standards of traffic that is a nightmare except between 11pm and 5am. We decided to leave at 7pm to hit New York City at about midnight.

First thing in the morning I hooked the loaded-to-the-gills 12-foot cargo trailer up to the '86 740 diesel Volvo wagon. I have new springs, and heavy duty shocks, but the back went way down, and the front came up. Now that means two things - the load is really too heavy to to pull, and the trailer is loaded with too much weight in the front. I can manage pulling the heavy load - maybe, but I would need to redistribute it. Good thing I picked up Chuck the other day. Chuck helped me unload, and then Evan appeared.

Evan and Missy are going to be moving in to the rooms Elijah and Rhonda have left vacant. He started helping unloading and reloading as well. After a an hour and a half of unloading and reloading the weight was nicely distributed, and the load sat well on the old Volvo.

After preparing the last items for the trip, we left at 7pm.

A stop or two for some necessary items, and two and a half hours later we were at road stop near Old Sturbridge Village on the Mass Turnpike. The Volvo would not start. I received a jump from a concerned, and helpful man in a large diesel one ton truck. Somehow my recently rebuilt alternator was not recharging the brand new battery sufficiently. All the typical things have been taken care of, but still it wasn't doing the job.

We limped to a hotel near Sturbridge Village - a Motel 6 which allowed for pets. Mom, Bev, Crash the dog and I snuggled into the beds as best as one can snuggle into a extra stiff mattress, and slept till morning.

Tomorrow will give us a new adventure. Hope fully a good one

Meeting Earl the Angel

I have not seen "Saving Grace" with Holly Hunter as the tortured detective, but I've seen the TV ads. She kneels over a body in the road, and cries out for help from God. Earl appears from the fog, and says, "Hi my name's Earl, can I help you?" or something like that.

I was testing my '86 Volvo diesel wagon to New London, NH to pick up Chuck, who is watching our dogs while we are gone. I'm hoping to pull an overloaded trailer to North Carolina. It's a two hour trip to get Chuck - one way. I arrived at a toll both on interstate 93 in New Hampshire, and saw lots of steam coming from under my hood. Ouch! That spells trouble. I looked at the water temp, and it was in the red.

I pulled over to the side of the road, and found a stream of steam blasting out from a small hose. After filling my over flow tank with enough water to get me to the truck stop a few miles away, I limped to the truck stop hoping to find things I needed - like a part's store - Yeah right, as if anyone has a hose for an '86 Volvo diesel.

I arrived and there were no parts at the minimalistic truck stop. So I stood forlornly by my car with the hood up. A little old man with a limp came by with his
broom, and trash catcher. He asked how I was doing, and I explained my situation. He walked me into the convenience store at the truck stop, where he worked cleaning up, and looked around sheepishly, "we don't have what your looking for here." After a glance or two at the other workers, and a little glint in his eyes he asked if I wouldn't mind taking a ride in a Lincoln Continental. Then we were riding down the road to a parts store on the day after Christmas.

I said, "My name's Phil."

"Hi I'm Earl."

I found a hose which I was able to cut to fit, I got back on the road, and picked up Chuck without another hitch.

Holly Hunter has a tobacco chewing Guardian Angel named Earl. My Earl had a limp, and Lincoln, and his wife's Bible in the front seat.

I said, "Earl you have been a blessing to me. Certainly God placed you in my life. I can not thank you enough."

Earl said, "Well I figure that's why we're here. We can't make it without helping one another."

Bless you Earl.

Making Bookmarks Late at Night

So here I am working on a bookmark late into the night. I have this last Sunday of Advent to prepare for. My son Elijah and his wife Rhonda are moving to Asheville, North Carolina on Sunday after the service, and we will follow him a couple days later in my old 740 Diesel Volvo pulling a trailer full of his stuff. I mean old too. That car has over 200,000 miles on it, but even more suspect than the mileage is the age - it is as old as Elijah nearly - a 1986. Pray that we make it.

So in middle of all this it was suggested I make a bookmark. I am not good at this Photoshop work, but this is what I can do in a pinch. Kinda silly huh?

You don't have to be cruel and agree with me if you don't want to.

I Need a Stronger Irrelevance Filter!

Life is filled with irrelevant nonsense these days - or so it seems. Maybe if I can discover how to use this irrelevance filter in my brain it will help make it through the struggles.

Apart from a silly personal application for this scientific theory/discovery, I find the information in the BBC article quite interesting.

When Open Pit Mining Becomes Redemptive

What do you do when you lose your house to a mining company? Save the church. Check this out:

200 Lashes for Saudi Arabian Rulers!

This is sick.

A young woman who was raped has been sentenced to 200 lashes, and 6 months in jail - for unlawfully mingling! Somebody tell me this isn't the way most Muslim men think! It certainly has be a anomaly of absolute power gone awry. There must be lots of angry people out there! Check out the BBC story here, and the New York Times article alledging that even the Saudi's are shocked - I sure hope so, adn I hope it changes the laws soon.

The girl's lawyer is one heroic fellow.

Political Ad You Just Gotta Love

Okay, I may lean right, but even if I leaned left, this ad rocks. Finally someone with a sense of humor. It may be cornball, but it's time that someone did an ad with fun as one goal. So here's to Mike Huckabee - thanks for the laugh. Chuck Norris fans will be voting for you.

Beowulf - potential Razzie?

If you watch closely on the trailer below you will find what I think ought to be considered as for a Razzie award. I should have seen it coming. Most ridiculous moment in cinematic history - Grendel's Mother in Stilettos. Okay, so that answers the question of how I felt about the movie. A year ago when I first heard that Angelina Jolie was Grendel's Mother, it made me rethink wanting to see the film. You know what they say about first impressions.

The movie is CGI throughout, and if you are someone who loves the story of Beowulf you will be wishing you had a controller to kick and stab, or restart the game at certain places in the movie. It started off somewhat faithful to the story, although far more sexually edgy and contemporarily Heathen. Angelina Jolie goes full frontal with CGI which makes her a moving mannikin. R rating CGI'd down to PG-13 definitely.

I've got two thumbs - both go down.


The interpretations of Beowulf which allow for such a silly rendering as Zemekis presents come from this kind of thinking. Perhaps we have Freud to blame for this movie.

Beowulf - a gotta see film for me

So, I really think that Angelina Jolie as Grendel's mother is weird, but I still need to see Beowulf. I don't often need to see a film, but this is way too epic a story to miss. What about you?

When the Edginess Leads to Excitement - Wanna Take Over the World?

So my last post documented feeling displaced by typical Christian church styles, even though they were good examples of doing church typically today - really it was a great example, but I felt out of place and strange in the experience. Now that I am home and back in the church office after Off the Map Live I actually have some sense of seeing, or at least looking ahead toward the future. After being beat up for a couple years, then going on a two month sabbatical (thanks to many of you), and then coming back in September to have to blitz toward our wild and crazy October outreaches here in Salem, then flying out on November 1st the morning after the busiest day of my year to go to Off the Map, I am now back in the saddle, and feel like I can project toward the future better than I have been able to do in a long, long time.

I wonder if all that Off the Map stuff was part of the envigorating energy? Combined with Taize, and Druid festivals in the UK, and visiting The Fringe, and spending time in Wales, and hanging out with Mike and Jules, and being free from the church stresses for a couple months, maybe the combination of things has brought some excitement back to my heart. Woo-hoo - who wants to take on the world with me today?

Going Through Withdrawls from Edginess

After being on sabbatical for two months (on the mission field in the UK, and visiting Taize), followed by returning to the church in time to do our outreach in the month of October, then hopping on a plance to go to the Off the Map conference and spend time with the likes of Brian McLaren, Spencer Burke, Karen Sloan and PresbYmergent gang, Richard Twiss, John Smulo, Jim Henderson, Meg and Benjamin Ady, Sherman and Sidell Bradley, and scores of other cool people I find myself coming off the busyness of the season feeling like "church as usual" is just too weird for me.

Does this mean I have adapted to things that are outside my own box of religious experience - the edgy as if it was a new center for myself?