I've Been Stolen

I woke this morning and walked through our concrete apartment, climbed into a hot shower, and heard my wife banging on the door. She was shouting something about hockey purchases and the Internet. It takes a lot to pry me from a hot shower but that worked. Seems she was on the phone with the company that holds our sole credit card. They wanted to know if we really were in the UK buying hockey tickets and hockey equipment. And for some reason she felt it necessary to ask me in the shower if I had been in the UK overnight doing those deeds.

Doubtful.

I assured her that I had been by her side all night long. And thus ... our security ... our personal credit card number ... had been hacked. Compromised. Stolen. Whatever you want to call it. Nice, huh? Like the good company they are the people down at Chase canceled our card, promised to have a new one in our hands by Monday, and agreed to not charge us for any fraudulent purchases. Cool. I can finish showering now.

I"ve heard of "identity theft" before. But who would want to be me? If I were going to steal someone's identity ... it wouldn't be MINE. I'm a lowly pastor! I live in a rented concrete apartment! My 401(K) isn't even a 201(K) anymore! I cheer for teams that habitually lose!

I mean, come on. Would you want to be me? As I sit here in my "fuzzy buddy" (formerly known as "The Date Chair") I'm wearing mesh shorts and a Toledo Mud Hens t-shirt. Does that sound stylish to you? I think not. The only flat-screen I own is on my back door. Oops. Wait. I sold my house. I don't even own that flat screen anymore! I'm drinking Coke out of a can because I'm too lazy to pour it into a glass which would just require washing anyway.

I repeat. Would YOU want to be ME?

Somebody in the UK really needs to get a life. And I hope the seats I bought them are behind a steel beam in the nose bleed section.

Smudges

I have smudges on my laptop screen. Little smudges. Couldn't figure out where they came from. I got to work this morning and almost wiped them off because, I mean, they are just .... there.

Then I remembered.

"The Amazing Elle" (aka: the worlds most awesome granddaughter) was sitting on my lap on Thanksgiving and she wanted to see pictures. I asked her which pictures she had in mind. She told me "mountain pictures." She was talking about the pictures that I took at Christopher and Laura's wedding in Beaver Creek, Colorado back in October.

No problem. Elle wants to look at pictures with grandpa? Elle will certainly get to look at pictures with grandpa! I pulled them up and we reminisced. Well, we reminisced as much as a 53 year old can with a 2 year old. Hey, it worked for us.

When Elle looks at pictures she points. She touches. Usually, nobody touches my laptop screen and walks away without twisted fingers. "Tess" the laptop is under a direct "order of protection" issued by yours truly. But Elle? She can touch. Not a problem.

And touch she did. Over and over. Evidence indicates that she touched about a dozen times. And now that I'm sitting here 600 miles away from her ... well ... those smudges are more precious than they were when she put them there. They are her. It's her fingerprints. Her DNA. And for a grandfather they are warmth and love and hugs. They are joy and laughter and giggles.

And they aren't going anywhere.

Thanks, God

Yesterday Debbie and I drove 610 miles without a problem. Everything worked great. The sun was shining for most of the trip. We were warm alone together. When we finished driving I stepped out of our way too big SUV and said, "Thanks, God."

I woke up this morning in a dark room and wondered for about 6 seconds where I was. Then I walked upstairs and sat with my granddaughter, The Amazing Elle, as we ate warm cinnamon rolls that her mother, my daughter, had prepared. We smiled at each other. She giggled. She wiped her hands on my shirt sleeve. Only she and I saw it and I laughed. As she walked away to play my gaze followed her and I said, "Thanks, God."

I talked with my lovely daughter and her husband, a man who loves His Lord and loves his wife. I watched the two of them look at each other with the eyes of two who have shared life for years and find themselves more deeply in love than they were on the day they married and more deeply in respect than they ever thought possible. I watched them "do life" for a few minutes when they didn't really know I was paying attention. And I realized how they were both in the very middle of realizing their greatest dreams. I closed my eyes and silently mouthed, "Thanks, God."

I sat with family and some friends that I have probably not seen in a year. We ate the traditional thanksgiving meal. Some of us ate too much of it. I was in that group. I turned down desert and then realized how dumb that was and I accepted an amazing gift of sugary delight. And it was very good. As I sampled each delicious bite I thought about our unseen guest and I said, "Thanks, God."

I met my sons and their wives in two separate places, enjoyed two separate conversations, drank a Coke and took a drive with one, then ate an evening meal and laughed about life with the other. As I watched them go their ways I had to marvel at them men and the couples that they are and with great joy I said, "thanks, God."

I lay on my daughters floor with Elle and we put puzzles together. I messed up on purpose and she fixed my mistakes. Then she put a stethoscope in her ears and talked into the piece you put over your heart. We played a game we had played last night. She said, "Everybody say YABBI!" And I shouted "YABBI!" We did it for five minutes and it wasn't long enough. Her eyes twinkled and I breathlessly fell into them as I inwardly shouted, "thanks, God."

And now the day ends. And it is quiet. Elle is asleep. Kelli is surfing her Facebook account. Debbie is watching David Letterman's mom on TV. Joe had to run out and do a quick "video shoot" for this Sunday's church service. And I sit here. And I realize how rich I am. And I can't wait for tomorrow. And I have to say it one more time.

Thanks, God.

The Squeaky Blog Gets The Sun

You mean all I had to do was complain?

Shunned By(e) The Sun

The sun is missing in action. No, seriously. It's gone. I have not seen it in 25 days ... and that was in St. Louis. I don't know how long it was absent here in Cleveland before that mini-trip. It is safe to say that it was days at a bare minimum. Perhaps weeks. It had been long enough that I remember flying above the clouds just as we began descending into Cleveland. I actually looked at the blue sky and whispered a subdued, "Goodbye." I knew it was going to be a while. Which means that it had been a while. My logic is good so don't question me!

Let's just go back to our original presupposition. The sun is missing in action.

And that makes me a cruel man. "How cruel does it make you" you ask? Glad you asked. I'll explain. Try to keep up.

I have bookmarked in my favorite places, web cams from around the country. A serious boatload of places. I am addicted to webcams. Call me nosy, curious, or anything you want but I do love me some web cams. Here is a partial list of my favorites ...

-Niagara Falls
-Seattle's "Space Needle"
-Sears Tower
-Wrigley Field
-The shipping port on Lake Superior in Duluth, Mn.
-The "Wailing Wall" in Jerusalem
-The Great Pyramids in Egypt
-The 3 mile marker on I-270 (why? why not?)
-The Alamo (Remember? The alamo?)
-Dealey Plaza in Dallas Texas (where JFK was assassinated)
-Times Square
-Mt. St. Helens
-The U.S. Capital
-The Eisenhower Tunnel under the Continental Divide in Colorado

I think you get the idea. We are talking web cam mania here.

And lately I have been using my web cam addiction to make myself feel better. You know, about the missing sun. I click on a web cam and silently pray ... this is hard to admit ... I silently pray ... (sigh) give me a second to compose myself here ...




Okay, I silently pray that IT IS CLOUDY EVERYWHERE!

I feel so much better now that I got it out. Thank you for listening.

You see, I don't want to be sun deprived all by myself. If I am miserable then the rest of the world should be miserable too. If I am pasty white then you should be pasty white.

Isn't that awful? And yet, to paraphrase an old song ... "If de-sunning you is wrong I don't wanna be right!"

God, forgive me.

Allergic To Night Time

This makes absolutely no sense at whatsoever.

All day long I feel fine. Healthy. Whole.

Nighttime comes. The sun sets. It starts.

Drip. Drip. Sneeze. Drip.

What's with that? I blow my nose. My head aches.

Drip. Drip. Sneeze. Drip.

It's been this way for a couple of weeks now. Nothing in our apartment changes from daytime till night. Actually, we don't even have the heat running. Seriously. We don't pay the bill. It's included in our rent. But the huge building we are in has us all sandwiched between apartments up, down, right, left. I guess everybody around us keeps us toasty warm. It's in the 20's outside. But it isn't the heating system. NOTHING changes.

Except for my head.

Drip. Drip. Sneeze. Drip.

I do believe I am allergic to night time.

Snain and Slipper Socks

I'm not ready. Thanksgiving is around the corner. Christmas is just over the horizon. People are already turning on multi-colored lights and I actually saw a Christmas tree in a picture window this week. And I'm simply not ready for it all.

Wal-Mart is ready. They have been ready since August. They are drooling and salivating, sharpening their tearing-teeth and shoring up their grinders. They know I have to come in the door.

I think I refuse.

I'm not scrooge. I don't "bah, humbug" well. But after months of CNN and Fox News telling me that the financial world is coming to an end I just go nuts when I think about the bulls-eyes being painted on my head. The first news story is that the "great collapse" is upon us. The second news story is delayed so that they can squeeze in a "Visa" commercial. Ya can't have it both ways, people.

Okay, so that's how I feel about it. My Christmas tree ... the plastic one ... is in storage again this year. The ornaments are in a box someplace. Again. But I look at it this way. I live on the third floor. There are three parts to The Trinity. So it's a godly thing. My apartment number is 310. Again, three parts in the Trinity, one God, zero people living at the north pole ... if you know what I mean. So it's a godly thing too. I also believe that there is a secret message in my cars license plate but I'd have to go out on the balcony and strain visually into the darkness to see for sure. The wind is a nice steady 40 mph and it's "snaining." That's snow-mixed-with-rain. Snain. And I don't really want to know badly enough to get snained on. So you will have to trust me on that one. Debbie is watching "TLC" on the tube right now. T = Trinity. L = Lord. C = Christmas. I translate that to mean that Christmas is about the Lord ... all three parts. The Trinity. So for the time being I'm just going to drink another can of Vernor's and wait. Wal-Mart will be open twenty-four hours a day soon so why should I rush?

Besides, by then they'll have all of their slipper socks on clearance. I'll buy a case. Bingo-bango. I'm done.

Stupid Picture Chronicles #27

This road was brought to you courtesy of Ontario, Canada.

Whatever you do ... do NOT back up ...

Ahhhh. This is why I love her...

If you read my daughters blog you may have already seen this. If not ... it seems that Elle missed her nap yesterday. This was the result at suppertime.

Stupid Picture Chronicles #26

I don't know what it means but it can't be good.

Trained professionals only ... do NOT try this at home ...

Lessons from 39,000 feet

According to the Southwest Airlines web site I have flown 18 times in the last year. I was surprised to hear that. My time in the air approaches 1.5 days. I would rather have spent that time on some beach or perhaps on a mountain top but it didn't work out that way. Nope. It's 36 hours in the clouds for me.

I have learned some things in those 1.5 days. "What have you learned?" you ask? Well. Let me reveal my #1 lesson.

I have learned that sometimes airplanes don't hold together as well as you might expect. Care for an example? I thought you'd never ask. In September I was sitting in the very back seat of a jet flying from somewhere to somewhere. I was in the window seat. And then the window was in my seat. Seriously. The inside window of the 737 fell off and landed in my lap. This was rather unexpected. I held it up, looked it over and decided it might make a good souvenir. I was eyeing my backpack when the flight attendant happened by. She asked me why I was holding the window. How do you reply to that? I told her that it fell into my lap. She failed to see the humor in the situation and told me to put it back. I could see my opportunity for extra peanuts on this flight rapidly deteriorating and so I put the window back up to the fuselage opening and slammed it with a closed fist. It popped back into place. I am pretty certain I saved the entire crew and all of the passengers from certain death. Depressurization is an ugly thing. And yet I didn't even get a "thank you." Just a scowl. The peanuts never did come by.

Well. That's how I spent part of my time in the air. Remind me someday and I'll tell you about the time I was the only passenger on the plane. Stellar.

I'm annoyed!

One of the Cleveland news broadcasts did a bit today on what Oxford University has called "the most annoying phrases" in the English language. They are ...

1. At the end of the day

2. Fairly unique

3. I personally

4. At this moment in time

5. With all due respect

6. Absolutely

7. It's a nightmare

8. Shouldn't of

9. 24/7

10. It's not rocket science

While those are good, I think I can do better. Here's what drives me up a tree ...

1. Here's what drives me up a tree (I had a friend who drove up a tree once. It didn't work so well. He's dead now.)

2. That's what she said (Only because I didn't say it more quickly than the person who said it)

3. Whattya gonna do? (Smack you if you say that again.)

4. As you all know (NO I DON'T! I DON'T KNOW MUCH OF ANYTHING! STOP ASSUMING I'M BRILLIANT JUST BECAUSE I'M A GOOD FAKER!)

5. La La Land (I live there. I like it there. Stop belittling it.)

6. Later! (Later what?)

7. Hush hush (I wish people would be quiet about hushing up.)

8. In a funk (See note on # 5)

9. To hot to handle (Then get out of the way and let me deal with it)

10 On the same wavelength (Get off my wavelength. It's mine. Get your own.)

Special Bonus Saying ...

11 I'm just sayin ... (I've used this one and I repent. I use it when I'm actually not sure what I just said. I use it a lot.)

Stupid Picture Chronicles #25

Debbie noticed this from the expressway in New York state. I looped back for the picture. We didn't have field trips like this when I was a kid...

Stupid Picture Chronicles #24

Please boys and girls! In case you don't know, there is great danger in getting out of your car, climbing the railing, and jumping over Niagara Falls!

Laughter from the throne

I can almost hear it. Can't you?

It has been a long season of news releases, debates, breathless reporters trying to keep pace with sprinting politicians. And commentators. Don't forget the commentators. They all write as though they have the scoop of the century. He was a war hero. She was a soccer mom. He was raised on the south side of Chicago. He is the consummate politician. He is a conservative. He is a socialist. She looks great in a bikini. He ... you get the drift.

It is all so new that it's old. It's enough to make you miss Lyndon Johnson. (Yes, I remember him, but barely.)

I cheer for the underdog. Hey, I'm a Cub fan. It's in my blood. But I also like a patriotic war hero. Soccer mom's keep the families planet spinning. Not sure what to say about that other guy. I'm so unexcited about this election that I actually feel guilty. I honestly doubt that either of the potential presidents will save or destroy The Union.

Of course I could be wrong.

My personal problem is that I have listened to so many talking heads that I start assuming that they know what they are talking about. Truth is, they know little more than I do. My 401K is in the toilet just like yours is. I'm glad gas prices have crashed and I don't really feel terribly sorry for the companies that have stopped raping me.

But I do hear it. Most people do not. I hope you do. Truly. It is the best sound one can possibly hear in this bent, distorted world. You see, The Savior has already come. He didn't sit in an oval office or wear a blue suit. There wasn't one commercial touting his qualifications. He didn't care to debate ... He just told the truth. And the arguments posed against Him were left in rubble. They thought they killed Him but the truth is that He lay His life down intentionally. And in so doing He made all other moments of life not only endurable ... but potential bastions of victory.

Tonight He loves red states and He loves blue states. He loves every continent and every person on either side of every border. If you vote for the guy I'm not going to vote for He loves you. So do I. If you vote for the guy I'm going to vote for He loves you. So do I. Personally, I don't think He plans on voting at all. And I don't think He is worried in the least. I don't think He is angry and I don't think He is "tsk, tsk, tsking" his way through the election day.

He's bigger than that. And He really would like us to remember it. So if you are sweating the outcome and having trouble picturing what our world will look like if "the good guy" loses ... well ... my best piece of advice is to listen closely and see if you can hear it too. It's coming from The Throne. The one He sits on.

It's laughter. It's not the laughter of sarcasm or the laughter of "I'm about to smack you so you better get in line or duck." You see, He is in charge of human history. It's the laughter of a Father who is watching His children who really believe that if they don't build the house it will never get built. He's The Carpenter, remember? He's building us a house not made with human hands. Trust Him and you get to live there. Forever. The house we are building here will not last. Ain't going to happen. We need to remember that and get over it.

Yes, of course we should take the election seriously. Yes, we should take the high road and we should combat evil in high places. But don't get so busy pointing to a man that you forget who sits on The Throne. And don't get so busy listening to the talking heads that you miss the laughter. It's the laughter of a Father who loves His children and delights in taking care of them. And I suppose it is the laughter of the one who IS in charge as He watches the ones who think THEY are in charge.

If you need me tomorrow night I'll be looking for His Lap. I think it will be far more enjoyable than sitting in front of talking heads.

Just thought I'd remind you.

(PS ... Yes, I believe in family values, the sanctity of life, etc. And I don't mean to minimize any of that. Please do not misrepresent what I am saying. What am I saying? I'm saying that we need to do our best through our vote and through legislation and then we need to remember that our world is very fallen, very broken, and we will never be able to fix it. God alone wins the battle. So do your best, pray your heart out, and don't be surprised or devastated when "we" lose one. The Throne is occupied. His Lap is available. There is room for you.)

Awww. Do we HAAAAAVE to? (And a great contest idea!)

Awwww. Do we HAAAAAVE to? Do we HAAAAAVE to have another election day? I know, I know. It's what we do. We are a democracy. This is the United States of America and I am, indeed, a proud American.

But election days are just so .... so .... brutal.

No, it's not the politicians. Their brutality has finally ended. We've watched them and listened to them and most of us have made our decisions. They aren't the problem.

It's the press.

My stomach balls up into a knot just thinking about it. Don't misunderstand. I care who wins. I care very much. I just don't want to go through the endless telling and retelling of who is going to win this state and that state and by how much ... when people are still voting. A newspaper in New Mexico has already proclaimed a winner. And it's not even Tuesday yet! I don't know about you but that ticks me off just a little bit.

Nothing I can do about it though. And besides, I happen to believe that God is in charge of human history. The bible teaches that God places people in positions of authority. Look it up. It's there. So why should I worry? Why should I subject myself to listening to eeennndddllleeesss predictions and prognostications if my God is the one that's keeping the world spinning anyway?

He is. And I shouldn't.

So here are my thoughts on how to spend Tuesday evening AFTER I have voted. Remember, these are just my thoughts. Feel free to do it your way!

- A movie? With popcorn? With extra butter? (Just in case I am wrong and the world IS ending on the day after election day I might as well enjoy my last bowl of "da corn.")

- Dance with my wife? In the quiet of our own apartment? (If I buy her some steel toed shoes she should be safe.)

- Go outside and sit on the lake? Well, not ON the lake. BY the lake. I can stare across. A guy in the Coast Guard told me this week that it's only 19 miles from my apartment to Canadian waters. (If the election goes REALLY badly I can ... nah...)

- Watch the "Hallmark" channel. (Not in this lifetime. Ha! I made a joke! That's a channel I'm not going to watch either!)

- Drive to Ashtabula. I don't know why. I guess just to see if it's really there.

- Go and buy that 42 inch flat screen. (You know. The one that ends in my divorce ...)

There has to be more ideas. Feel free to leave your plans as comments. I have a free evening next Tuesday night. OH! Here's a thought! Whoever leaves the comment with the idea that I really do ... will win a remarkable prize! It will come in the mail! Seriously! It's now a contest!!!!!

This could be cool ...

Welcome to my backyard!

Open your mouth and you can taste the perch in the wind ...

Me and Ralphie

Today I invited a cricket to join me for supper. I named him Ralphie. We met on the balcony. How do crickets get on to third floor balconies? I do not know. But they do. So I carried him in for a meal. We enjoyed wings and ribs from Buffalo Wild Wings. He did not talk much. That is alright. I was not in a talking mood. The little fella really put away the barbeque though. I think he liked the wings best.

He’s asleep now. I didn’t know that crickets sleep on their backs. With their legs straight up in the air. It must be one of those “cricket things.”

Okay, the phone woke me up and so I thought I’d blog while waiting to get sleepy again. It isn’t working so I’m going to go try a movie. I have an old “Petticoat Junction” DVD around here someplace. That should work.

Hope I don’t wake Ralphie.

God. Would you type through my fingers? Please, sir? I have thought about it and I really do not know how to say the things that are rambling around in my brain like loose marbles on the floor of a lurching subway car. There are so many marbles ... each representing a topic ... a thought process ... a list of things to figure out ... a person who needs help ... a question ... an ache. You know the list well.

I have a friend who is very ill. Life-threatening ill. She is mad at you and so she will not talk to me. To her I represent you. Therefore we both get her silence. She believes ... she sincerely believes ... that you have turned on her. Failed her. Maybe even cursed her. And so she is angry right back at you. My heart cries for her, wanting to tell her that it isn't true, this rush to judgement she has made. Still, if I were in her shoes ... or her hospital bed ... I would most likely feel the same way.

How can I help her?

And then there are these ... situations. You know very well the ones that I mean. They come rushing at me like the wind off of Lake Erie did a few minutes ago when I dared to open my window that held it back. That wind was cold. A reminder of the winter that is most assuredly on the way. I breathed it in for a moment and then closed the window again, knowing that no pane of glass can prevent the storms that will come howling in from Canada very soon. Same thing. These situations must be recognized. Must be addressed. They are puzzles to be solved. Combinations to be dialed. Some are people that hurt and look to me for answers. Some are problems that require action when I know fully well that no action taken by one man will be sufficient. Why do you put your children into situations where they must fix the unfixable, solve the unsolvable, answer the unanswerable? That really is not fair, you know.

How can I fix things?

So I need you to type through my fingers. I have typed the questions. Won't you type the answers?

Just this once?