One Update

Apologies that last week was only a one update week. Unfortunately it looks like this week will be as well. I could give you excuses, but no one wants that. I'm still writing this week, though not necessarily things to post in the blog. Fall has finally arrived, so hopefully that will provide a bit more muse.

Don't worry - this is not the update for this week.

Apologies that last week was only a one update week. Unfortunately it looks like this week will be as well. I could give you excuses, but no one wants that. I'm still writing this week, though not necessarily things to post in the blog. Fall has finally arrived, so hopefully that will provide a bit more muse.

Don't worry - this is not the update for this week.

One Update

R.E.M.ageddon

If asked to name my favorite band, my friends would give you a wide variety of answers. Many would wisely say Pavement or Meat Loaf, while a slightly smaller group would proffer The Police or Cursive. A small group would suggest Elliot Smith, while a few stragglers would suggest more familialy The Smiths. However, the correct response would be R.E.M.

Either the editor or founder (and really, these two could be the same person) of Spin wrote an amazing piece a few years back about the first time he heard R.E.M. Unfortunately, a search of the internet has revealed no evidence of this work. I can tell you though that I first heard them when I was in junior high, 1993, age 12. We had to take a music class, at which my teacher would play songs about which we would note the mood, tempo, and so forth. We turned in our discussions, though he probably rarely if at all read it.

At some point he played an R.E.M. song, possibly Losing My Religion. My mind was blown. I had no idea what I was hearing, but I knew I needed to hear more of it. The rest of the fall I spent a great deal of time telling anyone who would listen to a 12 year old discuss music preaching my love for R.E.M., based on this single hearing and sparse radio play.

Fast forward to Christmas morning. I have no idea what I got, save one tiny package. I picked it up, completely unsure what such a tiny rectangle could be. It's certainly not a sweater, book, or video game. Perhaps a deck of cards? I have plenty of those. Opening said package, I found a cassette and three words that permanently changed the way I view music: "Out of Time."

Oh man, this first song is awesome! Wait, is this guy rapping? Who is this KRS-One guy anyway? Who is this Kate Pierson girl? I'm madly in love with her based solely on her voice*. We'll ignore the fact that she's significantly older than my mom. Every song blows my mind.

Fast forward nearly 15 years. I'm at CD/Game Exchange in Silver Spring, MD, where I'm living at the time. I'm browsing to fill my addiction for buying 90s indie rock albums - Pavement, Neutral Milk Hotel, Cap'n Jazz, Mineral, whatever. Suddenly I'm struck by three familiar letters that I haven't considered in years - R.E.M. I shelled out $5 for Automatic for the People. For the second time in my life, R.E.M. blew my mind.

I still listen to R.E.M. I was actually listening to Out of Time when I drafted this post last night. However, last week something unfortunate and ultimately inevitable happened: R.E.M. announced that they are breaking up. R.E.M. has been a band for 31 years, longer than I have been alive. I've been a fan for well over half my life. It's the end of the band, as we know it and otherwise. I for one feel far less than fine.

*To be completely honest, this is still rather true.

If asked to name my favorite band, my friends would give you a wide variety of answers. Many would wisely say Pavement or Meat Loaf, while a slightly smaller group would proffer The Police or Cursive. A small group would suggest Elliot Smith, while a few stragglers would suggest more familialy The Smiths. However, the correct response would be R.E.M.

Either the editor or founder (and really, these two could be the same person) of Spin wrote an amazing piece a few years back about the first time he heard R.E.M. Unfortunately, a search of the internet has revealed no evidence of this work. I can tell you though that I first heard them when I was in junior high, 1993, age 12. We had to take a music class, at which my teacher would play songs about which we would note the mood, tempo, and so forth. We turned in our discussions, though he probably rarely if at all read it.

At some point he played an R.E.M. song, possibly Losing My Religion. My mind was blown. I had no idea what I was hearing, but I knew I needed to hear more of it. The rest of the fall I spent a great deal of time telling anyone who would listen to a 12 year old discuss music preaching my love for R.E.M., based on this single hearing and sparse radio play.

Fast forward to Christmas morning. I have no idea what I got, save one tiny package. I picked it up, completely unsure what such a tiny rectangle could be. It's certainly not a sweater, book, or video game. Perhaps a deck of cards? I have plenty of those. Opening said package, I found a cassette and three words that permanently changed the way I view music: "Out of Time."

Oh man, this first song is awesome! Wait, is this guy rapping? Who is this KRS-One guy anyway? Who is this Kate Pierson girl? I'm madly in love with her based solely on her voice*. We'll ignore the fact that she's significantly older than my mom. Every song blows my mind.

Fast forward nearly 15 years. I'm at CD/Game Exchange in Silver Spring, MD, where I'm living at the time. I'm browsing to fill my addiction for buying 90s indie rock albums - Pavement, Neutral Milk Hotel, Cap'n Jazz, Mineral, whatever. Suddenly I'm struck by three familiar letters that I haven't considered in years - R.E.M. I shelled out $5 for Automatic for the People. For the second time in my life, R.E.M. blew my mind.

I still listen to R.E.M. I was actually listening to Out of Time when I drafted this post last night. However, last week something unfortunate and ultimately inevitable happened: R.E.M. announced that they are breaking up. R.E.M. has been a band for 31 years, longer than I have been alive. I've been a fan for well over half my life. It's the end of the band, as we know it and otherwise. I for one feel far less than fine.

*To be completely honest, this is still rather true.

R.E.M.ageddon

Why the Looks?

Tie? Check
Polished shoes? Check
Nice watch? Check
Sitting on the street writing? Check

Everyone is giving me strange looks. I love it.

Tie? Check
Polished shoes? Check
Nice watch? Check
Sitting on the street writing? Check

Everyone is giving me strange looks. I love it.

Why the Looks?

Showers? Babies Take Baths!

Yesterday I went to my first baby shower ever. Don't be alarmed - I'm not having children yet. You have more time to prepare. But I have friends who are, and they had a co-ed baby shower. I was very unsure what to expect, but I had a lot of fun.

One interesting thing is that we do not yet know the baby's gender. The parents have chosen not to find out until said baby is born. While I know this used to be commonplace, it seems to be pretty rare these days. If it were me, I wouldn't be able to handle the suspense, buy I'm glad someone is doing it. Babies of unknown gender get green and yellow clothing. I bought them a green shirt that reads, "Diaper Loading. Please Wait."

Since we weren't doing the standard baby colors of blue or pink, why not tie dye? It was my first time ever doing so, but it was a lot of fun. I haven't seen the finished product yet, but I'm excited to see the baby wearing the multicolored spiral tshirt I dyed.

While the tie dying was being set up, some of us threw a frisbee around. I haven't thrown a frisbee in quite some time, whereas one of my friends coaches an intramural ultimate frisbee team at the high school where he teaches. I'm not good at frisbee. We had a two-year-old playing. With his mom's help, he actually threw it a few times, possibly better than some of my throws.

Gift time showed the difference between parents and non-parents. As gifts from parents were opened, they would explain the purpose of items to the parents-to-be. On the other hand, I picked something off the Amazon registry, not sure what it was. It said something about bathing a baby. I figure bathing is pretty important.

Per the father's request, I stopped on my way there to pick up a few cigars. Unfortunately, between the dying (tie, not death) and frisbee and delicious cake, we did not end up smoking said cigars.

It's an interesting and beautiful experience to step back and take in the fact that God is blessing my friends with a baby. A new life is coming into the world, one more little tiny human, into their care. If there be anything in all of humanity worth celebrating, this is it.

Yesterday I went to my first baby shower ever. Don't be alarmed - I'm not having children yet. You have more time to prepare. But I have friends who are, and they had a co-ed baby shower. I was very unsure what to expect, but I had a lot of fun.

One interesting thing is that we do not yet know the baby's gender. The parents have chosen not to find out until said baby is born. While I know this used to be commonplace, it seems to be pretty rare these days. If it were me, I wouldn't be able to handle the suspense, buy I'm glad someone is doing it. Babies of unknown gender get green and yellow clothing. I bought them a green shirt that reads, "Diaper Loading. Please Wait."

Since we weren't doing the standard baby colors of blue or pink, why not tie dye? It was my first time ever doing so, but it was a lot of fun. I haven't seen the finished product yet, but I'm excited to see the baby wearing the multicolored spiral tshirt I dyed.

While the tie dying was being set up, some of us threw a frisbee around. I haven't thrown a frisbee in quite some time, whereas one of my friends coaches an intramural ultimate frisbee team at the high school where he teaches. I'm not good at frisbee. We had a two-year-old playing. With his mom's help, he actually threw it a few times, possibly better than some of my throws.

Gift time showed the difference between parents and non-parents. As gifts from parents were opened, they would explain the purpose of items to the parents-to-be. On the other hand, I picked something off the Amazon registry, not sure what it was. It said something about bathing a baby. I figure bathing is pretty important.

Per the father's request, I stopped on my way there to pick up a few cigars. Unfortunately, between the dying (tie, not death) and frisbee and delicious cake, we did not end up smoking said cigars.

It's an interesting and beautiful experience to step back and take in the fact that God is blessing my friends with a baby. A new life is coming into the world, one more little tiny human, into their care. If there be anything in all of humanity worth celebrating, this is it.

Showers? Babies Take Baths!

"Welcome Aboard," or What's the Mat-ter?

My friend Amiee* works at a hotel about two blocks away from the church that I am a part of. She works Sundays. As such, I sometimes hang out with her after church. This was the case this Sunday. We sat there drinking cucumber water** and laughing, catching up on life and playing mancala. Suddenly we heard a strange sound in the street.

It reminded me of a street sweeper, though it was not moving. I've never seen a street sweeper park and continue sweeping, so this was probably not what it actually was. Eventually Amiee went to check what this strange noise was. I don't know why it sounded this way, because it was a short tour bus. Said tour bus rolled out the red carpet, which in this case was a mat. People boarded the bus, and they pulled out.

Shortly after they pulled out, Amiee went back over to the front desk to answer the phone. Suddenly she started laughing. "They left their mat!" she said.

Down the stairs I go, to street level. Back up the stairs I come, mat in hand. "Welcome Aboard," is emblazoned on the mat. The mat had been abandoned, but now it had a new owner. What will I do with this mat? I don't know. But it's going to be awesome.

I can't put this mat in front of my door for two reasons. Firstly, I already have a door mat. Having a second would require me to figure out what to do with the first. I don't have two doors, so I have no use for a second mat. Secondly, it's gigantic. I would need a double door to use this. I have no use for this mat. I should take a picture with it, then take it back down.

Suddenly I hear the street sweeper again. I hear yelling. "The mat's gone! Does anybody know what happened to my mat? I can't believe they (^&*ing forgot the mat!"

"He's going to get shot if he keeps that up," Amiee says. I grab the mat and run downstairs. "What are you going to tell him? That you wanted it, but he can have it back?"

I get to the bottom and hand him the mat as he is about to leave. "Um, I think you forgot this. We picked it up because we didn't want anyone to steal it. You need to be careful with things in this part of town."

"You're a good person," he says to me. "You're a good person, and you will be repaid for this. Thank you."

I felt so bad. He has no idea how wrong he is. None of us are good, and we are not repaid in some cosmic karmic balance system, thankfully. Further, I wasn't even acting magnanimously toward him, no matter what I told him.

I still have one doormat. I think it says "Wipe Your Paws," or something like that, though I haven't really looked at it in a long time. It's my roommate's. It sits in front of our only door. When you cross our threshold, you are coming in, not aboard, through a single door. And that's the way it should be.

*I wish Amiee had a blog I could link to from here. She has the most amazing stories about her job, and they are nowhere recorded. Blog, Amiee.
**For some reason, the water in the dispenser there has cucumbers in it. I suppose it adds something good for you to the water. It tastes a bit unusual, but I like it. I always feel trendy when I drink it.

My friend Amiee* works at a hotel about two blocks away from the church that I am a part of. She works Sundays. As such, I sometimes hang out with her after church. This was the case this Sunday. We sat there drinking cucumber water** and laughing, catching up on life and playing mancala. Suddenly we heard a strange sound in the street.

It reminded me of a street sweeper, though it was not moving. I've never seen a street sweeper park and continue sweeping, so this was probably not what it actually was. Eventually Amiee went to check what this strange noise was. I don't know why it sounded this way, because it was a short tour bus. Said tour bus rolled out the red carpet, which in this case was a mat. People boarded the bus, and they pulled out.

Shortly after they pulled out, Amiee went back over to the front desk to answer the phone. Suddenly she started laughing. "They left their mat!" she said.

Down the stairs I go, to street level. Back up the stairs I come, mat in hand. "Welcome Aboard," is emblazoned on the mat. The mat had been abandoned, but now it had a new owner. What will I do with this mat? I don't know. But it's going to be awesome.

I can't put this mat in front of my door for two reasons. Firstly, I already have a door mat. Having a second would require me to figure out what to do with the first. I don't have two doors, so I have no use for a second mat. Secondly, it's gigantic. I would need a double door to use this. I have no use for this mat. I should take a picture with it, then take it back down.

Suddenly I hear the street sweeper again. I hear yelling. "The mat's gone! Does anybody know what happened to my mat? I can't believe they (^&*ing forgot the mat!"

"He's going to get shot if he keeps that up," Amiee says. I grab the mat and run downstairs. "What are you going to tell him? That you wanted it, but he can have it back?"

I get to the bottom and hand him the mat as he is about to leave. "Um, I think you forgot this. We picked it up because we didn't want anyone to steal it. You need to be careful with things in this part of town."

"You're a good person," he says to me. "You're a good person, and you will be repaid for this. Thank you."

I felt so bad. He has no idea how wrong he is. None of us are good, and we are not repaid in some cosmic karmic balance system, thankfully. Further, I wasn't even acting magnanimously toward him, no matter what I told him.

I still have one doormat. I think it says "Wipe Your Paws," or something like that, though I haven't really looked at it in a long time. It's my roommate's. It sits in front of our only door. When you cross our threshold, you are coming in, not aboard, through a single door. And that's the way it should be.

*I wish Amiee had a blog I could link to from here. She has the most amazing stories about her job, and they are nowhere recorded. Blog, Amiee.
**For some reason, the water in the dispenser there has cucumbers in it. I suppose it adds something good for you to the water. It tastes a bit unusual, but I like it. I always feel trendy when I drink it.

"Welcome Aboard," or What's the Mat-ter?