here's life

So, this evening my church had a Funktober Fest. It was put on by the young adult ministry, and we had a service and then bierocks and bratwursts. Then we had 70's music and dancing. The dance-off was fun, and I ended up winning! I guess I know more about 70's dance than I thought---or, the judges were impressed by my enthusiastic flailing. The coveted box of IBC rootbeer is mine!

Alas, I didn't make the cut in the costume contest. There were some pretty good outfits there. It ended up with two couples getting the two prizes.

Most people wore wigs. Me, I'm a natural kind of guy.

At work we are having a "get dressed up day" tuesday as part of a fundraiser for the food bank. Some people will participate. I am going as a member of the SUPER CAR Team! It's a pretty sloppy get up, but after all, the Super CAR Team can't spend a whole lot of time on their outfits, because we are too busy closing "greenlines" and fixing "multi-unit tags"---basically putting out fires. Here's a sneak preview of what I've figured out so far---work people don't frequent this blog, so they won't know until tuesday...[those are "tags" on my pants and "green lines" on my shirt, and a cape..well, because I'm SUPER!]

I'm not sure if I'll go barefoot or not. This is the one day that I would have an excuse to walk around work without any shoes.

So, I met some friends at the little coffee shop in the historic section of town and we headed off on tour of the local art galleries.  We walked to the first one, a third floor room with items made of "Welded steel and Mixed Media" as well as "Paper and Mixed Media".  Stencils, cut paper and guys with gas masks were the main themes.  The welded steel was folded zigzags.  I went around admiring the artwork until one of my friends quietly confided to me, calling the bluff of the emperor. It was harder to pretend that these were grandiose works of skill and talent after that.  The next place was pretty cool. Here they taught various forms of art, but I went up to the top of the building where the glass blowers were working.  Those refractory furnaces are hot.  But the glass blower was so comfortable, working near things that were at about 2000 degrees.  It was fascinating to watch as he expertly blew and collapsed, colored and melted, shaped and twisted, cooled and heated the glass, to make a glob paperweight with internal swirling colors and a few bubbles.  Clear glass is unique when it glows.  Being colorless, and transparent, the light comes from nowhere to light up the goo.  I want a furnace---the materials they are made of!  The furnace of liquid glass. they had a pool of it...
We walked back to our cars and drove to the next place--they had "acrylic/gouache on birch panel" as well as other things--woven stuff, undefinative fiber-based collages.  Actually artful. There was a guy playing a odd guitar---all neck, many strings, no strumming---just tapping the strings at the fret to make enough vibration for the pickups to amplify.  Used both hands to deftly pull huge amounts of music out of these strings.  Turns out, one guy in our group knew him from highschool. We sat and listened to him until the place closed down. 
What was left of our group wanted to stop by a local food/drink place and grab a bite to eat.  I figured I'd go along, found out where we were going.  Well, I found the place. and a parking space, and wandered about a bit and didn't see my friends' vehicle.  So I waited, still nothing.  This was not the part of town that I feel comfortable wandering around at night, and really didn't feel like walking in without my friends.  The group of people standing in the shadows outside the tattoo parlor next door also made me uncomfortable.  I drove around a bit, still couldn't spot their car, and after checking back where I had left them and finding nothing, I turned for home.  I pretty much freaked out and ran.  I'd go to a place that looked like that, if I were with people I knew, but I was not having fun, so I left.  I called my friends and left a message on his cell when I got home.  The city is no place for me.  During the daytime, and if I choose what places I go, it's ok,,,but I just don't feel at home there.  If I need to go into intercity ministry, God and I will have to figure something out, but until then, give me a grassy knoll and some trees.  I just don't feel like sitting in a smokey bar surrounded by people who want to eat my brains, listening to music I don't like, eating food I don't trust.  So, how can I bring usefulness to my friends' lives without judging their preferences? Jesus didn't run from the "scum of society" like I did this evening at quarter-to-eleven.  And I made that determination without even going inside.  I was too "better" to associate with the creeps I imagined seethed inside this restaurant and this part of town.

I am the only member of the self-proclaimed Super CAR Team at work.  Several months ago, I was assigned to work only on problems that are seen in the shop repeatedly. These problem statements come to us in the form of CAR's.  Another guy was put on the task as well, but he never was able to do it because he couldn't get access to the systems we use every day, since he was Canadian.  He lasted through several months of such difficulty before he gave up and went home. 
I have been pulling CAR's from outboxes (there is a special box just for me, but it is usually empty) and fixing the problems, handing them off to drafters when I find a solution.  Today I got done with a package, and needed another, so I looked in my box. Nothing, as expected.  So I looked in the other boxes. Only one had anything, but none were CAR's.  So, I declared myself the winner of the battle against CAR's and claim that the planes are as fixed as they can get.
Tomorrow I will go bug Dan, since his box has a note that says he has more work in another basket. Until then, the Super CAR Team is caught up, and I think it is about time we got uniforms!
SUPER CAR TEAM FTW!!!!

Today my apartment complex had a "Renovation Celebration" to introduce the residents to the new facilities that have been in work for the last several months. It was a great day for it: rainy, cold and windy--well, great if you don't want to have to fight over the bbq sandwiches and want to win at the drawings. I strolled over, and ate a couple sandwiches while almost conversing with my neighbors. They had a DJ playing music, and had a drawing to let people stand in this inflated tent, while blowing loose paper money around. Whatever you could catch, you could keep. One guy caught a picture of Grant. They called my number, and in my 15 seconds of wealth, I got 14 pictures of Lincoln. It was suprizingly difficult to catch money floating through the air. I came back a half hour later for another sandwich, and got into another drawing--30 bucks worth of gift certificates to a local sports grill. I thought about going swimming in the pool by the party--in the cold, blustery rain. I should start going to the fitness center sometimes---it would be good for me.

I am going to a party in a barn this evening with some people from work. I will be wearing a bannana outfit, and carry a baseball bat with peanut butter and jelly on it. As you can see, it will be amazing! I got the bannana suit from Aaron, who will have a nerf shotgun and a chainsaw for a hand. A skilsaw can work as a dremel tool if you ever need a baseball bat.



An arch now decorates my dining room. It is a very classy piece of masonite, and helps bring out the theme of the room with its upward bent, showing potential for collective improvement and systematic increase while harkening back to third century Rome.

Last night as I was driving through Kansas City, with my hands shaking on the reigns, the clattering suddenly got worse, much worse.  I stopped to see what was the matter, and found that Cecil had lost a shoe. It was schredded.  So, I pulled way off the track, and had him pick up his front left foot, and tried to get the shoe off, but it was on there good. So I loosened up the nails and had him take a few steps, and tried again, and again,,,and eventually got it knocked loose. All the while, the other horses were galloping past in the dark and wet, only a few feet from where we stood.  But, I got the little clubfoot shoe put on, got back onto the trail, and kept going.  The reigns didn't shake as they had both legs of the journey, but there was a whine, so I had Cecil hold back a bit, and not go full tilt.
Today, on the way home from work, I stopped by the farrier and got newer shoes put on both of Cecil's front feet, which should make him better at stopping and turning, especially in wet weather.  I put the little clubfoot shoe back in the saddle-bag, and went home---no whining or shaking!

I was playing frisbee the other night with some people from church.  It was pretty windy, but we had fun, and lots of turn-overs.  As evening approached, some gnats materialized and made a cloud above one guy who had a white shirt. It was very bright white, almost glowed, probably UV brighteners in the fabric (they take the UV in sunlight and convert it into visible light, making colors brighter).  A girl had on a white shirt, but the gnats seemed to ignore her.  It was not as bright--just a normal white.  Then as the sun fell and we continued to run up and down the field in the deepening red light of the sunset, the Pigpen-style cloud continued to track the guy, but then the girl started to notice that the gnats were over her too.  Interesting.  I think it has to do with defraction. 
While the sun was away from the horizon, we got the UV light from the sun, which activated the guy's shirt, making it show up as more white to the gnats.  Then, as the sunligh began to come more at an angle through the atmosphere, the UV got bent away, but the lower frequencies made it through.  This made the two shirts closer to the same brightness to the gnats. 
We lost, and went and ate homemade icecream. Now I wonder, what is the range of light that is visible to gnats?

Fresh bread, fresh bread,
That's my favorite brand,
Straight out of the oven,
The best bread in the land!
Flat, long, monkey,
It don't matter to me
The best bread in this whole world,
Was baked just now, for me!

It always has seemed a little odd that people from the United States
call themselves "Americans". Come on, the United States has only 39%
of the land mass of North America! Then there's all of South
America that's being slighted as well. It appears that use of
"America" or "Americans" in to refer to United States and it's
citizens is limited to self-reference---the rest of the world knows better.
So, what is the reason for this pseudonomenclature? Is it because of
some vestiges of the Monroe Doctrine? Is it just our inflated ego
makes us think that we are the only people to exist on this chunk of
dirt that comprises 28% of the earth's dry land? Why do we insist that
"Americans" are "Citizens of the United States of America"?

I think it is pretty simple, and probably not intentionally malicious.
It's an identity crisis issue. Most of the rest of the countries in
the world have a name: Republic of the Congo, Pakistan, Principality
of Andorra. And the people in these counties have names: Congolese,
Pakistanis, Andorrans. The United States of America doesn't really
have a name, just a descriptive title. So, rather than calling
ourselves "United States of Americans", or "US of A-ites", or
"USians", we just go with "Americans". Not very clever, and rather
ambiguous, seen as slighting by the rest of the great people who share
these continents with US.

What is the solution? Should we come up with some name to set us
apart, so we can have a unique identity?