Big Barrel of Blogs

Day 29 - No Cars

2011-03-29T17:20:00.001-07:00

Jason's tips for public transportation number 3:

Check the volume on your headphones. Every so often, hold your headphones 12 inches from your nose, if you can hear music, they are too loud. You only get one set of ears. Take it from me when your hearing starts to fail, it sucks.

Day 23 - No Cars

2011-03-23T19:49:00.001-07:00

My office sits at the corner of the Old Town/Chinatown MAX stop. It almost feels like I am cheating to have such easy access to frequent trains. It has also blinded me to the bus stop just one block away.

See, I usually catch an Eastbound train and ride it to 82nd where I transfer to a bus for the rest of the trip. If I work past 7, the busses are less frequent and I end up waiting in the rain for a bus.

It turns out that the bus I'm waiting for at 82nd also stops right outside my office. So for the last two nights, I've eschewed the siren song of the train and just ridden the bus.

Day 22 - No Cars

2011-03-22T09:00:00.000-07:00

Transcript from an IM conversation we had yesterday:

9:28 AM Christa: this morning when I got to my bus stop at RQ, I was checking my transit tracker and i realized - I smell poop! I thought, "Great, I stepped in poop." I check my shoes - no poop. What the heck?! I still smell it...then I looked in to the corner of the bus shelter. Yep, poop. And I don't think it was left by a dog. I can still smell it. Ugh.

9:29 AM me: ewww.

Christa: Big time ewww.

me:

9:30 AM after you left on the blue, I walked to the east end of the platform and sat in one of the shelters. After a minute my nose got my attention: I smell pee. Looking around, did I sit in pee?

9:31 AM I was thinking my morning was more odoriferous than yours, but I guess I was wrong.

Christa: oh man. At least you didn't sit in pee.

me:

9:32 AM no kidding.

9:35 AM Christa: When you gotta go, you gotta go. I guess. This morning I figured someone clearly had a bathroom emergency. I suppose squatting in the bushes in the median wasn't a good option.

too exposed.

9:40 AM me:

and waiting till you get off the bus is *always* a good option.

Christa: most definately

me: even if it means you only make it to the bus stop shelter.

9:44 AM Christa: Tri-Met's "stay alert" safety message has a much broader meaning to me after this morning.

me: words of wisdom.

9:45 AM Christa: right up there with "never turn your back to the ocean"

me: and safety never takes a vacation

Day 21 - No Cars

2011-03-21T07:42:00.001-07:00

Today's condensation word is: sprinkle. It's heavier than a mist, but not really rain. It feels like your kid brother is flicking the water from his freshly washed hands in your face. It doesn't really fall from the sky and its not quite enough to motivate an umbrella. But, it does make me feel like chasing someone down to give them a noogie.

Day 18 - No Cars

2011-03-18T18:00:00.001-07:00

I ride mainly during commuter hours, so I don't usually see anything of note. But, every now and then...

Day 17 - No Cars

2011-03-17T07:33:00.001-07:00

Might see the sun today.

Day 16 - No Cars

2011-03-16T20:04:00.001-07:00

Jason's tips for successful public transportation:

3. A smartphone. I know there was a time before smartphones when people looked at bus schedules and checked their watches to know when the bus would arrive. But, for my money, transit directions and arrival predictions are killer apps for your phone.

For trip planning nothing beats pure Google Maps. You already love it for driving directions. Now flip the switch to transit and you've got the power of the Goog planning your arrivals, departures, and transfers. Google knows the bus schedules and does an excellent job of planning trips. It does not, however, integrate with Tri-Met's real-time tracking.

For that you need an Android app called AnyStop (I don't know what you need on any other phone OS). I've tried every app in the Android market claiming to do real-time Tri-Met predictions, and AnyStop is the best. I've found it to be extremely accurate. It has map integration which, while a little clunky, does a decent job of finding stops that are your key to getting predictions. It claims to let you look up predictions based on bus lines instead of stops, but that feature has always given me an error. (I know it sounds like I'm not impressed with AnyStop, but it is by far the best app out there.)

Day 15 - No Cars

2011-03-15T17:39:00.001-07:00

Jason's tips for riding public transportation:

2. Keep a stocking cap in your coat pocket. All this waiting sometimes happens in the cold.

Day 14 - No Cars

2011-03-14T22:00:00.001-07:00

I think its because I've spent so much time trapped in my car that I really don't mind waiting for the MAX. I've had commutes that would regularly take upwards of 60 minutes. Hour after hour they taught me that all you can do is go with the flow.

I can remember my early days when I would zip through traffic, looking for seams in the endless line of autos. Trying, usually fruitlessly, to find some way to manufacture time. Over the years I guess I mellowed. I even found peace in the time-locked miles of my day. By admitting that the drive was inevitable and that no other tasks could be accomplished, I learned to consider that time as moments of rest. It was out of my control and I could choose to appreciate the time with no pressures to complete any tasks or show any progress--guilt free.

I've carried that over to the bus stop, a pressure-free break in my day.

Day 11 - No Cars

2011-03-11T17:20:00.001-08:00

It feels like spring. I wonder if I would have missed this in my car.

Day 10 - No Cars

2011-03-10T19:13:00.001-08:00

Jason's tips for successful public transportation :

1. Patience. Maybe its because the woman next to me is sighing loudly and constantly checking her watch, but it seems to me that patience is a key to navigating the public transit system. I'll be honest with you, sometimes buses and trains are late, or delayed, or simply missing. No amount of toe-tapping will change that. If waiting's not your thing, you might be better off in a car.

But, if you can settle into the rhythm of the system you'll be rewarded. I tell myself, I'm just a small part of this big organism. It has tentacles that reach to every corner of the city. Ferrying people like blood cells in a vast network of veins.

Waiting for a pickup is just a small part of the experience.

Day 9 - No Cars

2011-03-09T07:11:00.001-08:00

Christa's tips for riding public transportation:

2. A big weatherproof bag. (Stylin' color, optional.)

Day 8 - No Cars

2011-03-08T07:54:00.003-08:00

Up here in the NW we have a lot of names to describe what happens when water vapor in the sky becomes a liquid. Today it is: mist. As we were walking to the bus stop, water droplets formed on my jacket and face, but no drips from the sky were falling. The air was just wet. Like 100% humidity. Mist.

Day 7 - No Cars

2011-03-08T07:54:00.001-08:00

Riding the bus everywhere feels a bit like choosing the stairs over the escalator. It takes more effort. You get a little sweaty. You can see people on the escalator next to you and pretend that because you chose the stairs you are somehow superior. At the end you all get where you are going and you realize your choice probably didn't make much of a difference in the grand scheme of things. (Well, maybe not the last part.)

Days 5 & 6 - No Cars

2011-03-07T00:06:00.000-08:00

Weekdays are the easiest since we were already mostly commuting to work via public transportation. All we had to to was leave 15 minutes earlier in the morning and we were sans car.

The weekends are a different story. We never ride public transportation on the weekend--and we go lots of places. Here is a list of where we went this weekend:

Division Street Movie Theater (Jason)	Rode with Josh
Timberline Lodge (Jason)	Rode with Darren
Wedding (Christa)	77 Bus
Mosaic (Jason)	77 Bus
Wells Fargo (Jason)	Walked
Hollywood Burger Bar (Jason)	Walked
Memorial service at the Lucky Lab (Jason)	70 Bus
Memorial service at the correct Lucky Lab in Multnomah Village (Jason)	rode with a new friend I made who also went to the wrong Lucky Lab
Return trip home (Jason)	44 Bus, MAX
Safeway (Christa)	Walked

You may have noticed that "No Cars" means that we don't use our cars. We are more than happy to ride in someone else's car. In fact, after only one week of not using our cars, riding in someone's car seems luxurious. You may have also noticed that we didn't go anywhere together this weekend. Christa has been sick and only went out because she didn't want to miss that wedding and she needed to do some shopping. (I, on the other hand, partied like Charlie Sheen.)

Looking forward to getting back into the week and some shorter trips.

Day 4 - No Cars

2011-03-04T07:29:00.001-08:00

Christa's tips for successful public transporting:
1. Rubber Boots.

Day 3 - No Cars

2011-03-03T23:04:00.000-08:00

Christa gets the MVP award today. It was her turn at the office to bring snacks and cake for someone's birthday. So, yesterday she took a shuttle from UoP to New Seasons to do her shopping. She ordered a cake from Helen Bernhard Bakery and in order to pick it up before work, caught a Halsey bus 30 minutes before our usual departure. There is a bus stop for the 77 right in front of the bakery, so she exited one bus, picked up the cake, and then rode the next one. She arrived on time to work with a backpack full of snacks and her hands full of cake.

If I'm picking teams to make the most of public transit, I choose Christa.

End of the Trail Oddities, Vol II

2011-03-03T02:05:00.000-08:00

I was looking at some old posts tonight and stumbled upon a story from a few years ago where some kids offered me a bottle rocket at the end of the Glade Trail. (Feel free to read it here.) I had forgotten about that strange encounter, but I may be able to top it with what I was offered Sunday.

Darren and I were enjoying some snow up on the Hood and decided to take a trip down the glade. At the end of the trail where it meets the road we found a group of 3 guys which were, to my estimation, in their late 20s. They were trying free their Cherokee from a snowbank. Both front wheels were buried halfway up the snowbank and one of the rears had spun so much it was 6 inches lower than its pair. I didn't feel like being friendly and I figured that whatever trouble they were in was of their own doing, so I started to walk by on the other side of the road. Another snowboarder, whom we had met on the trail, was interested in helping and announced to everyone that what was needed was a shovel and asked if anyone had one.

Well, I just happen to take the back-country pretty seriously, and even if I'm cruising lift-assisted trails at a resort, I carry a pack with snowshoes and a shovel. Unable to ignore a request for a piece of equipment that I rarely use myself, I offered my shovel to the rescue effort. After a few minutes of digging, we put every able body in a pushing location and, without too much grunting, freed the vehicle from the clutches of the snow.

As we were packing up to go, one of the guys from the Cherokee produced a pipe and offered to let us join their "session" as payment for our help. We declined.

Here's a vid of Josh and me on the Glade from back in December:

Day 2 - No Cars

2011-03-02T07:35:00.001-08:00

Our usual commute was to drive to Gateway Transit Center and hop on a MAX train. Now we are catching the Halsey bus that stops 3 blocks from our house and takes us to the 82nd MAX station. We leave the house 15 minutes earlier and we end up one train ahead of where we used to ride.

Eschewing the four mile car section saves about $.90 each way in gas. So, this is not about saving money on the daily commute.

Day 1 - No Cars

2011-03-01T07:25:00.001-08:00

We are taking on a new 30 day challenge, no cars. Today, that means walking to the bus stop in the rain.

Sunday

2009-02-05T22:33:00.000-08:00

On Sunday I went to hear a dude give a talk about Galatians. Now, Galatians is plenty solid, but I’ve been in that book before, so I wasn’t exactly expecting a revelation. What I heard caused my heart to pull out a ladder and make its way to my throat.

The talk came from the first chapter of Galatians where Paul writes about his disgust for the Jews who were adding to the gospel. The path to Christ that Paul had told the Galatians about was being complicated by old-school Jews. Jews, who wanted Gentile Christians to practice parts of the old law. So Paul is hacked, and he’s not pulling any punches in letting his readers know about it. This part of the study was what I expected—its good stuff even for today. Anytime people manufacture requirements to reach Christ we should be disgusted. (Insert whatever church traditions you’ve seen people bind as law here.)

The chapter takes a turn about half-way through as Paul validates the message he originally preached. He does this by telling his own story, highlighting the revelation he received from Jesus.

What the speaker chose to highlight next grabbed me.

Paul’s life before Jesus’ intervention had been flawless. He went to the best schools, excelled in his studies, climbed to the highest ranks of the religious elite, and then made it his personal mission to eliminate those who would try to change the old ways. He was living a life of righteousness, but what was his motivation? You see, the speaker explained, he was trying to gain favor with God by doing all the right things.

And then in verse 15 he writes: “But when God”. Paul’s life story hinges on those 3 words. That was the moment Paul quit and God began. The system of the old law was designed to give followers a way to achieve favor with God. But when God sent Jesus, the system changed. Now the favor is free, there is nothing we can do to achieve it.

That made me swallow, trying to coax my heart back to its normal spot. How long have I been keeping score, trying to collect enough points to earn God’s favor? This introspection and the following realization were liberating. It came with a wave, like a gentle rain that honestly left me a little weepy. You see, in Paul’s story when he stopped and God began the repercussions were immeasurable.

I want to stop and let God begin.

Dick Dalzell

2009-01-27T02:36:00.000-08:00

One of my favorite memories is the Northwest College and University Choir Festival held at Willamette University in the spring of 1993. We'd participated in this festival every year and this was to be our last as Columbia Christian College was closing at the end of the semester. In other years we compared quite well in size and sound to the other choirs from schools with 10 times our enrollment, but this year we stood out. I don't remember exactly how many members we had in choir that final year, but it wasn't many. I do remember that after we spaced ourselves evenly across the risers I couldn't touch my nearest neighbor without taking a full step. We were small. But that night, our sound filled the auditorium. The feeling I experienced during our most challenging selection has never been duplicated in me. The music that we made that night took me to another place. The audience of choirs met us with a standing ovation when we reached our destination—they were moved as well.

While that was a highlight during my choral career at Columbia, my memory is flooded with dozens of similar, musical moments. Moments where we didn't just sing songs—moments where we made music. My director for these moments was Dick Dalzell. Under his direction I was taught that music is more than notes to be sung. It is a message, an emotion, an expression.

I took Choral Conducting, Choral Arranging, Music History, 4 semesters of Joyful Noise, 8 semesters of choir, and 8 semesters of private voice lessons from Mr. Dalzell. It would be accurate to say that he shaped me. I am indebted to him for the person that I am today. For while Mr. D. was teaching lessons on music, I was learning about life. Under his tutelage I learned about the commitment it takes to build a program that will touch lives for generations. About the love that is required to sustain a marriage. About the patience that is needed to shepherd a church. And about the familiarity with God that makes His name Father.

My teacher is nearing the end of his journey on earth. In this place his presence will be missed, but his lessons will continue. I am thankful for the time I spent with him.

Change in Venue

2009-01-12T18:13:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was a turning point in my life. I have been an active member at the Metro Church of Christ since 1989. At the conclusion of yesterday's service I read the following through blurred vision:

Dearest Family,

It is with mixed emotions that I announce that Christa and I have completed our time at Metro. We have felt the urging of the Spirit to embark upon a new journey; and while we are excited about what God has in store for us, we are sad that we will no longer be serving at Metro.

After 19 years of membership, this is not an easy thing to do. You are our family and we have been shaped through our time with you.

Please know that we are not leaving because of any falling out, or disagreement with anyone. We hold the Metro leadership in the highest regard and look forward to seeing where they will lead you.

For us, this is like a graduation. Metro has loved us, fed us, and inspired us--and now we must commence the next chapter.

We take comfort during our transition from stories in the Bible where God moved people from one place of service to another. Heroes like Abraham, Ruth, and the disciples were all asked to leave the places where they were and take a new journey.

Our new station has not been revealed to us, so the first step of our journey will include reflection and listening. During this period we covet your prayers for our direction.

We love you very much and will seek to continue the relationships we have formed with you despite our departure.

We pray that God will:
cover you with His wing when you need protection,
strengthen you with His joy,
surround you with his people so you have a sense of belonging,
turn His face toward you and give you peace.

When it was over Christa and I were met with an overwhelming outpouring of love. I can't tell you how much I will miss that church. They will always be my family. I will never take for granted the time I was allowed to serve there.

Regarding the future, I have never felt so in love with my wife. We are embarking on this journey together and can't help but be excited to see where God leads us.

Ringtailed Guests

2008-09-21T20:40:00.000-07:00

Last night my dog came in after barking with a Jimmy-is-stuck-in-the-well-and-you-better-come-see look in her eyes. I ignored her. She went back out an barked some more. When she came back in her eyes said "if you don't follow me out to check this out, I'm gonna gnaw off your toes while you sleep!" So, I went (I like my toes). She led me to the, (ahem,) unfinished, treehouse platform where I found 3 raccoons. I wonder how you poison raccoons?

Rite of Passage

2008-09-15T10:24:00.000-07:00

Do you remember the feeling of your first ride? (Turn up your sound and let Adam refresh your memory.)

Cast & Crew
First-time Rider	Adam (29 days before his 3rd birthday)
Dad with words of direction	Blake
Older Brother	Griffin
Camera	Kim

What I should have said

2008-09-09T22:09:00.000-07:00

I'm insulted by the flippancy of your blog post. To think that I used to hang on your every word and now I only get one word a year. One post a year, and that post is a 3.5 liner.

~Rizzle

The sentiments of this comment left me feeling like I was wrapped in a warm blanket on a chilly night. In an effort to allay Ryan's un-satisfaction I offer the following.

I have few sports heroes. I like lots of sports, I just don't find myself drawn to individuals very often. One exception is Lance Armstrong. I am a huge fan of Lance. In fact, just mention his name near me and you'll get an explosion of conversation that would rival any political, talk-show host in the aftermath of Sarah Palin's VP announcement. I think the Tour (or Tour de France to most of you) is one of the greatest tests of physical endurance on the planet (covering 2200 miles in 21 days). Lance has won the Tour a record 7 times. He completed this feat after conquering testicular cancer that had spread to his lungs and brain before it was diagnosed.

During his reign as the father of the peloton Lance was often accused of using performance enhancing substances. Although he was tested more than any other athlete in history, he never failed a test. In the light of rampant, drug-use by other cyclists there are critics who say Lance must have cheated. These critics have trouble acknowledging his un-aided greatness.

Since his retirement, drug testing has become more sophisticated, revealing even more cyclists using performance enhancers. This has only fueled the nay-sayers who now claim Lance must have doped. I hear even casual fans disregarding his accomplishments.

With his, now confirmed, return to the Tour, he will win. And he will win without the use of drugs. Today's more sophisticated tests will vindicate his accomplishments.

That got me kind-of excited yesterday, so I thought I would share it with my faithful readers.

Could it be true?

2008-09-08T16:24:00.000-07:00

I nearly spilled my slurpee and wrecked my car.

Lance is returning to the Tour de France

And he will once again silence the drug-doping allegations. Mark my words.

(O, and he'll win it, also.)

BBQ is not just for the 4th of July

2007-11-22T12:42:00.000-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving

Update

2007-09-23T21:45:00.000-07:00

In case you were wondering, I'm eating a combination of raw and cooked food now, and have been since the end of June. (In fact on July 1st I hosted a bar-be-que that was delicious.) I can say that I enjoy raw food and the community that eats it exclusively, who, by the way, is anything but exclusive--they are very welcoming. For me, a mix of raw and cooked food seems to be best.

In case you were wondering, we've taken on some challenges around here that will last longer than a month.

And if you are wondering why I haven't been blogging, I'll let the fact that I didn't finish mowing my yard until well after it was dark tonight be my answer. (Yes, I really am so horrible at keeping my life in order that I had to mow by Braille.)

In Cooked Food and In Raw

2007-06-29T00:27:00.000-07:00

Last weekend we took our shopping dollars to a couple of farmer’s markets. The cherries are delicious. We also picked up some spinach, lettuce, peas, and carrots. Strawberry season is pretty much finished. The last pint Christa brought home from Whole Foods were moldy. I can see the winter months becoming pretty bleak for raw food choices. But now it’s perfect.

The best part about this month’s challenge was that I didn’t do it alone. It has been a joy to walk this path with my wife. Throughout the month we’ve been able to uniquely encourage each other. When she ate the last banana on day 8, I understood the importance of her text-message that simply said, “We need more bananas”. When I was on day 15 wondering if I could ever eat another banana, she was right there with me.

I’ve undertaken plenty of solo challenges, but this one seems more satisfying because I shared it with her.

Something Smells Funny

2007-06-23T00:53:00.000-07:00

Funny thing I’ve noticed about folks that eat cooked food—they have an odor. Kindof like bad breath but not as nasty. Just a little bit of a funk. And the longer I go without cooked food, the more I notice it. I wonder if my sense of smell is becoming re-sensitized; or if in the absence of smelling that way myself I notice it in others.

When it first started happening I thought it was me that stunk. But, I asked a few friends and they couldn’t pick up my scent. So I asked my wife and she confided that food cookers were starting to smell a little to her as well. She also said, to her, everyone now smells the way I do after eating Indian food.

We were both getting whiffs of it while sitting in the theater tonight, weird.

(Mmm, Indian food….)

Got Bananas?

2007-06-15T01:23:00.000-07:00

I'm starting to feel the groove of this raw fruit thing. After my last post I decided I would stop eating just to reach a certain number of calories. Instead, I've been eating to satisfaction. This has resulted in about 1400 calories a day and no more mid-meal stomach aches. I dropped about 10 pounds, but have been at the same weight for the last 4 days.

Our current challenge is finding ripe bananas. It seems that all anyone carries is green bananas, which is fine, but we already have 2 boxes of green bananas from Costco that we are waiting to ripen. What we need now is yellow! Christa and I stopped at 5 stores the other night until we finally found some. Delighted with our bounty, we rushed home and made smoothies. (4 bananas, 2 peaches and a handful of strawberries is my favorite.) We picked up enough to last a couple of days. When we went to work today we left our calorie-filled treasures on the counter. I guess the dog is jealous of our new found diet, because when Christa came home she found peels on the living room floor.

Christa emailed her friend Sarah P, and told her about my little postings. Sarah has made some great comments on my previous posts that I'd encourage you to go back and read.

One thing I hear a lot from people who are educated in the ways of eating healthy is, "O, you are on a cleanse." To that I say: "yes and no." Most "cleanses" are undertaken for the express purpose of de-toxing the body. They usually involve a strict diet that may not be healthy if continued for a long period of time. One in particular, the Master Cleanse, is all about lemon juice and fasting. During these ordeals people are rapidly attempting to flush toxins and in some cases parasites from the body. That is not what the 80/10/10 diet is about. We purposefully chose this diet because it is a healthy lifestyle, not a short-term treatment. While it is true, we have only committed to 30 days and we are certainly flushing out some toxins, this diet could easily become permanent. We are not on a cleanse.

Attachments

2007-06-11T23:14:00.000-07:00

This weekend was wretched for treehousing. (A verbization which I take credit for; although each time I say it, it reminds me of that kid with the video and the puppets in The Sixth Sense.) It rained all day Saturday. I only got out for a couple of hours on Sunday. On Sunday I did manage to get one hole drilled and a new and improved piece of threaded-rod into it.

Tonight, the weather was perfect. Greg heard that I was climbing the trees and came over. He can be seen here wrenching one of the rods into place. Also clearly visible is the other attachment point for that tree. I came across these cool hillside washers in my quest to find stronger threaded-rod and they are sweet.

While Greg worked on that socket I drilled two holes in the other tree. One of them was unreachable from any branches so I had to get out the old climbing harness. Man its good to be back in the trees. Tonight it felt like we were making some real progress. If we can get the beams hanging from the actual attachment points by ropes, I can take measurements for the cables. And if the cables get done this week I could be hanging joists this weekend!

Also, the other night Christa brought Molly Steele over while her mommy had an appendectomy. I took that opportunity to give Molly a few choices and wouldn't ya know it? She went right for the apple.

Melon Blues

2007-06-08T23:49:00.000-07:00

I'm certainly enjoying raw fruits. And I get the argument for eating stuff that our bodies seem predisposed for. However, if this is the stuff that I'm supposed to be eating, why is it a chore to eat so much? It seems that I'm in a constant battle to shovel fruit into my mouth. I don't eat when I'm hungry, because I never get hungry. As soon as I'm not full, I eat. Yet, I haven't topped 1513 calories in a day since we started.

It's too bad there has to be a catch.

"We have this wonderful diet of foods that you will love and your body can use. Oh, but you have to eat buckets full (bucketfulls?) of it."

Dr. Graham promises that my stomach will "stretch quickly to allow you to consume normal/health quantities of fruit." That may be true, but it hasn't happened yet.

I guess if it were easy, we wouldn't call it a challenge.

Drink Your Calories

2007-06-08T00:05:00.000-07:00

I made a new friend to day. His name is OJ. He was hanging out a Jamba Juice and for only $4.85 he gave me 450 calories. Which is crazy since on my first 3 days of this raw food diet I averaged 900 calories.

Here's what I ate today:

Item	Grams	Calories
Breakfast
Jamba Juice Orange Juice, freshly squeezed, Power Size	992	450
Bananas (3)	354	315
Apples - Granny Smith (1)	241	121
Lunch
Bananas (2)	236	210
Peaches (1)	157	61
Dinner
Spinach, Baby (about 3 cups)	59	14
Lettuce, Looseleaf - Raw (about 2 cups)	112	17
Cucumber - With Peel, Raw (1 cup)	104	16
Tomatoes, Red, Ripe - Raw (1.5)	185	33
Carrots, Baby - Raw (10)	100	35
Raw Whole Almonds (1/4 cup)	30	180
Snacks
Peaches (1)	157	61
Total Calories Consumed		1,513

It breaks down like this:

Carbs: 81.3%

Protein: 7%

Fat: 11.6%

Right on target as far as the percentages go. Still a little short on calories. I wonder if OJ has any friends?

What Should I Eat?

2007-06-06T22:52:00.000-07:00

I’m sure Allan is not the only one with questions about this crazy 80/10/10 diet we are on, so while sit here sipping a tasty banana/strawberry/peach smoothie, I’ll see if I can sort some of this out.

I, for one, am not mortgaging the family farm to buy Dr. Graham’s snake oil—just yet. I am willing to give it a try for a month and see if I can figure out where he is coming from.

As far as my comments yesterday about eating fruits because they make our mouths water, let me see if I can develop that idea by quoting Dr Graham in The 80/10/10 Diet.

How does one determine the correct food for any given creature? Let us suppose that you were given a baby animal and you had no idea what it was or what it was supposed to eat. Perhaps it was a gift from a foreign land. How would you know what to feed it?

The answer is relatively simple. All you would have to do is offer the creature different types of foods in their whole, natural state. That which it was designed for, it would eat. It would likely ignore all the other items, not even considering them as food. I have done this successfully with orphaned animals that I have saved.

The same technique would work with a human child. Put the child in a room with a lamb and a banana. Sit back and watch to see which he plays with and which he eats. We can be fairly sure of the outcome. Try again with fats versus fruits by offering a choice of (natural, raw, unsalted) nuts, seeds, avocadoes or olives on the one hand and any fresh sweet fruit on the other. Again we can safely predict that the child will choose the sweet fruit.

Crazy? Or, brilliant? He continues…

Our premise is that Nature served us correctly to start with. We recognize that we thrived and attained our high station, and that what was right for us then is still right for us now, as we are structurally and physiologically the same as we were during most of our sojourn as humans in nature. It is logical that, within our modern context, we can supply ourselves with natural foods.

If you can stomach that premise, then his nature-based, if-the-shoe-tastes-right-wear-it theory will lead you to the conclusion that we should be eating fruit.

(Not only that, he gives scientific evidence against eating just about every food that is not a fruit. But, I’ll save those topics for another day.)

Can we figure out what we should eat based on what we would forage for in the forest? It seems logical to do that with animals. I don’t give my dog the same food I would give a horse. Not only would she refuse it, but it would not work in her system.

I can’t argue with Allan’s comment that we are highly adaptable as a species. We are certainly capable of surviving on a huge range of foods, from natural to synthetic. But, what if we wanted to determine the correct food for us? Not just food that would help us survive, but food on which we can thrive? To me, natural seems the way to go, and Dr. Graham might be on to something. If we went back to simple, whole, natural foods, what would our health be like? What would our lives be like?

June Challenge - Raw Food

2007-06-06T01:04:00.000-07:00

Christa came up with this months challenge and she is journeying with me on it. She has been keeping up with the trek of her friend Sarah P., who eats an all raw food (80/10/10) diet. For a challenge we have decided to eat that way for a month.

At first I thought we'd be eating vegan, but that isn't restrictive enough. No, this diet, outlined by Dr. Douglas N. Graham in The 80/10/10 Diet, includes only raw fruits and vegetables and requires that your calories divide into 80% carbs, 10% protein, and 10% fat. Which means mostly high carb fruits and some tender greens. I haven't yet decided if Dr Graham is a genius or a quack. Some of his assertions do make sense.

Consider this: if you picture holding a piece of fruit such as an apple, or peach, or grape in your hand, and you imagine what it would smell like it, it practically makes your mouth water. God designed fruit to be appealing to us in its raw, complete form. Now consider a stalk of grain, or a herd of cattle, or an uncooked egg--does that image make your mouth water? From the perspective of what we are designed to forage for naturally, it is clear, to Dr. Graham at least, that fruit is the perfect food.

The biggest challenge, so far has been eating enough food. Fruits are a low caloric food by volume. So to reach a healthy daily caloric intake you have to eat a lot. Like 4 pounds of watermelon for breakfast and 8 bananas for lunch. Even though it tastes good, that is a lot of food and I have yet to consume the quantities that Dr. Graham recommends. So, my daily calories were under 1000 for the first 3 days. On days 4 and 5 I got up to 1400. The Doc claims that it is a transition for our systems to go from high calorie foods where we don't need to eat as much to a fruit diet where large quantities should be eaten. He says that my stomach will adapt and I should be able to eat 4 pounds of watermelon, so I am optimistic.

On the positive side, I'm not hungry. I don't feel any cravings. Probably because the fresh strawberries, peaches, and watermelon are so good.

Today I ate a watermelon, banana, and strawberry smoothie for breakfast (4 cups watermelon, 1 banana, and 10 small strawberries). For lunch I had 4 peaches and 4 bananas. As a snack I had an apple, 4 baby carrots, and 2 stalks of celery. At dinner time I made a banana/strawberry smoothie with 3 bananas and 25 strawberries. This works out to 1400 calories, 91.2% carbs, 5.3% protein, and 3.5% fat. (I'm using calorie-count to track everything.)

The morning smoothie took about an hour to drink. It wouldn't fit in any glass we have in the house so I put it in a pitcher and nursed it with a straw on my commute. Lunch was spread over a couple of hours. I should have made a salad for dinner, but I worked in the yard until 9:30 and I wanted something I could eat that wouldn't get in the way of DTD.

I'm interested to see what changes occur throughout the month.

Matthew 5

2007-06-04T14:14:00.000-07:00

I am still pursuing monthly challenges.

In May, I set out to memorize the Sermon on the Mount. Near the end of the month I re-wrote the challenge to just memorizing chapter 5.

I am amazed at how much the process of memorizing these words has affected me. I've read them dozens of times, but something about memorizing them got them into my heart. I am awe-struck that the Creator sent us His son, in person, to give us this message. I should have committed it to memory long ago.

Warning: these teachings were radical when Jesus spoke them and are still radical today. View with caution.

(A big thanks to Ike for following me with his camera as I stumbled around Mt Tabor.)

I warned you

2007-05-31T10:47:00.000-07:00

Here's the list of people who are registering their points with the jasonhillpdx group on Desktop Tower Defense:

jasonhillpdx group on DTD

(You can also see people's screens if you click their names.)

A few questions:

TDF, care to identify yourself?

How did my mom get so good?

Is anyone using juggling?

Will I ever top the list?

How many of you have played, but declined, or couldn't figure out how to post your score?

Please, for the love of all that is good

2007-05-30T02:53:00.000-07:00

Do not try this game:

Tower Defense

(But if you must, use my code: jasonhillpdx when it asks you if you want your score added to a group.)

(Btw, happy 100th post to me.)

Texas Style Brisket

2007-05-28T23:09:00.000-07:00

I've bar-be-cued 4 briskets. One was inedible, although my family managed to choke it down, and three were unbelievable. Here is what I've learned.

Start with the right meat. You need a brisket with a thick layer of fat all across the top. During cooking, this fat will melt and add flavor and juiciness to the meat. I've purchased 3 of mine from meat markets and one from Costco. The one from Costco did not have a thick layer of fat and became inedible. (Brisket is sometimes used to make corned beef and I think the one I got at Costco was trimmed with this in mind.) At the butcher where I went this weekend they actually called the meat I bought Texas-Style Brisket. I've also seen it at a few super-markets.

Cover the meat with a dry rub. I use Rudy's Rub. Its heavy on pepper and paprika, but other than that I'm not sure what is in it. When I run out I'll order more. I add the rub generously, rubbing it onto the meat until every inch is covered.

Cook slowly over smoke for 8-12 hours, and in the oven for 12 more. By slowly I mean 200-250 degrees. I have a medium sized Weber that I can keep at 250 degree with 4-8 briquettes burning in a pile on the side. I use a simple oven thermometer to keep track of the temperature. I add smoke by soaking mesquite chips in water and then sprinkling them over the briquettes. With this arrangement I add fresh mesquite every 15 minutes and I replenish the briquettes every hour.

Usually I start cooking the night before I want to eat. I keep vigil at the grill until I reach 10 or 12 hours or cooking, which is around 4 or 5 in the morning. Then I bring the meat inside, cover it with aluminum foil, and cook it on warm in the oven until dinner time. This method is exhausting as I have to be up all night tending the smoke. I know that the meat only needs 10-12 hours of smoke, and that the time in the oven adds to the tenderness, but I wasn't sure, until tonight, if the smoking time needed to be continuous.

This weekend I changed my approach by only smoking the meat from 6pm to midnight. I then brought the brisket inside to the oven from midnight to 2pm. At 2pm I took it back out to the grill and gave it 4 more hours of smoke. This brought excellent results and I got a good night's sleep. Apparently the meat can take a break from the smoke with no ill-effects.

Things I'd still like to try: I think I could get longer periods of smoke if I used bigger chunks of mesquite. I'm using mesquite chips from Weber and they smoke out after about 10 minutes. If I had larger ones I might be able to go 30 minutes between each visit to the grill. Tonight's brisket still had quite a bit of fat left on the top even after 24 hours of cooking. I think I could have trimmed it to 1/4 or 3/8 inch and still been happy. I'll experiment with that next time.

Treehouse Returns

2007-05-21T23:16:00.000-07:00

It used to be a place for branches, but I changed that and put in a floor. On the floor I added a house. One night the house fell down. For a year and a half there has been a pitiful, half-broken floor in this place. Tonight it is just an empty space — an empty space that I will fill with a house.

I think I needed time to grieve. In the last week I’ve spent 2 evenings and a Saturday up in my trees. Before this week I couldn’t find the motivation to even talk about it.

You know how when you get a new phone and there is a protective sticker of plastic over the display? I feel like someone just peeled that away.

It is good to be back in the trees.

Two of my favorite things

2007-04-11T23:40:00.000-07:00

Riding the flanks of Mt. St. HelensPhoto by R. Allan White

Good Night

2007-02-08T06:36:00.000-08:00

I am fascinated by challenges. While there were moments of frustration during my picture-a-day-for-a-month challenge, I was delighted with the changes it inspired in me as a photog. Undertaking the challenge of living by a cash flow plan with Christa has been the most eye-opening and liberating experience of my adult life. Our current diet and exercise challenge is re-sculpting my body into a shape not seen in years.

Inspired by all of that, I’m embarking on another challenge: going to bed at 9:30pm for a month.

I’ve always enjoyed a good night’s sleep, but it usually comes at the expense of a late morning. Sleeping in late usually means rushing around and even skipping some morning activities that I don’t want to forego (see exercise challenge above). So, remembering a similar challenge a friend wrote about, I am going to bed early.

Since it is my challenge, I get to set the rules. Going to bed does not mean being asleep. The challenge is to be in bed at 9:30, but it is ok to read or participate in some other activity. In the 7 nights since undertaking this challenge, falling asleep has only been an issue once and that was for only 20 minutes (getting up at 5:30, makes it pretty easy for me to fall asleep before 10pm). On Friday and Saturday I stay up until 10pm. And that’s it.

I’ve already begun to realize things that I wish I could stay ignorant of. Each day only has 24 hours. If you subtract 8 for sleep you are left with 16. I work 8 hours with a 1 hour lunch, and that leaves 7. I average a 50 minute commute which whittles it down to 5 hours 20 minutes. If I spend 60 minutes exercising and it takes 10 minutes each way to get to the gym, I’m down to 4 hours. A precious 4 hours each day for everything else I want to do with my time. Ouch. By the time this month is over there may be some changes.

36 and Counting

2007-01-29T23:30:00.000-08:00

Thanks for a wonderful birthday Christa, and a big shout-out to my nephew for his melodious birthday wishes.

Psst, Hey Buddy...

2007-01-11T00:55:00.000-08:00

Wanna buy a van?

1999 Toyota Sienna XLE Minivan - $7490

Finally go the van fixed and listed on craigsList. I'll knock $500 off the price for any Big Barrel of Blogs reader. Or if one of you refer me to a buyer, I'll knock $250 off their price and give you a $250 finders fee.

Just know that the clock is ticking. I've already got a guy sending me a cashier's check for the full asking price plus an extra couple of thousand for the shipping. It seems he's in Nigeria?

Technical Difficulties

2006-12-31T22:38:00.000-08:00

I think I blew the motherboard in my imaging computer. It has been down for about a week and a half and makes it a little hard to keep up with my picture-a-day project. I have been taking pictues, just unable to do much post-work. I dusted off my old laptop and uploaded the rest of the month tonight. Maybe the next attempt will go better.

Don't Move

2006-12-25T17:05:00.000-08:00

I’d be surprised if you didn’t know most of the details surrounding the search for the Kim family in southern Oregon a few weeks ago. I’d also guess that you now have an increased familiarity with Mt Hood that came from watching all manner of reports about snow caves, cell phone calls, and 50 mph winds.

But I wonder if you heard about a guy named Daryl Blake Jane? Jane was stranded in his Jeep Cherokee for 2 weeks. He set out for a town called Trout Lake, which is found on the flanks of Mt. Adams just a couple of hours from Mt Hood. Instead of taking a longer, well maintained highway, he chose to cut through the Gifford Pinchot National Forest. It was on a national forest road that his Jeep Cherokee got stuck in the snow. Unable to dig himself free, and recognizing the beginnings of a winter storm, he decided to wait it out. He rationed the rice cakes and banana chips he’d brought for snacks. To defrost the car he ran the engine for 7 minutes a day. For warmth he crawled inside his down sleeping bag. When his water ran out he drank from puddles.

And to improve his odds of survival, he stayed put.

It sounds so simple, but when you are alone and stranded, the urge to take rescue into your own hands is mortally tempting. The chilling fact is: you will be found. The question is: will you still be alive? Your chances of staying alive are increased when you don’t move, you find or build shelter, and you make your location visible to rescuers.

Jane followed most of these survival techniques during the 2 weeks he lived in his Jeep. His family was convinced he was on that national forest road, but when air searches by local law enforcement did not turn up any signs, law enforcement called off the search. Jane’s family persevered and worked with constituents of a local, snowmobile club to perform a ground search of the road. On the 14th day of his ordeal, Daryl Blake Jane was found by members of his own family. Exhausted and hungry, Jane was taken to a hospital where no injuries—not even frostbite—were detected.

I can only imagine how hard it must have been for Jane to stay in his Jeep. To suppress the urge to hike down the road and rescue himself took heroic willpower. I am convinced that is what kept him alive. I think I’ll remember his plight if I am ever put in a situation like that.

One A Day

2006-12-12T23:15:00.000-08:00

I've been bragging that I could take a photo a day, but never fully committing to the endeavor. Then my friend Johno gave me some encouragement and before I knew it, I am taking a picture a day this month.

Feel free to check them out here. Or if you are a flickrnaut check here. Or if you want to keep up in your reader use this feed.

I'll post one a day through the end of the month. Some days are more interesting than others, but each picture was taken on its day of the month.

A big shout out to Johno, whose picture a week project inspired me.

Cover the Wall

2006-12-08T01:48:00.000-08:00

I read a blog called PhotoJojo (you may remember Ike referencing them for a photo project he did. A while back they highlighted an application called the Rasterbator. (Its ok to giggle at that.) Rasterizing is converting images to a series of pixels or “picture elements” along scan lines to transmit or reproduce the image. The Rasterbator does this but the result in my mind is closer to a half-tone. The HalfTonator wouldn’t make anyone giggle though, so I can see why they chose the name they did.

The Rasterbator takes your image and blows it up as big as you want it and then creates a PDF that you put together to make your huge image. I’ve done a few wall sized ones in my house, but I’ve been wanting to do a really big one.

When Greg and I started dreaming about converting the Metro auditorium into the FQ amphitheater, I knew I had found my excuse.

I already had a 3 image pano from FQ 2003. It is of the crowd with Johno praying up front. A huge, life-sized version of it seemed appropriate for our event.

We made it almost 27 feet wide and 10 feet high. It took 390 sheets of paper and 3.5 hours to hang.

Looking back I would have chosen smaller dots, (a configurable setting in Rasterbator), which would have given more detail in the far away parts of the image. But, over all it turned out fantastically.

I’m planning a snowboarding one for the back of my office door. (Maybe even in color.)

Faith Quest in December?

2006-12-02T17:12:00.000-08:00

For about the last 10 years I’ve spent my Labor Day weekends singing at Faith Quest. Faith Quest is a 4 day youth event held at Camp Yamhill. To say that what happens at Faith Quest is amazing would be an understatement. Some of the most powerful moments of my life have elapsed there.

The corporate worship times at FQ are inspired, praise-filled sessions of joy and devotion that rival any worship experiences I’ve ever had. For starters, God shows up and hangs out with His kids. Next I get to sing on mic with some amazing musicians who recognize when God shows up. Then, there are about 500 worshipers jammed into a space made for about 450. It is an incredible combination and it never ceases to amaze me.

I’ve often wanted to duplicate it, but never felt called to organize such an event outside of Faith Quest. Recently the teens at Metro asked us to try. So, I’ve called my friends who sing up front at Faith Quest and they have agreed to meet at Metro tomorrow at 6pm. Now all we need is 500 worshipers to join us. How ‘bout you? What are you doing Sunday night? Bring your small group. Bring your family. Bring yourself.

I’ve already invited God, and He said He’d come.

Pot-Luck at 5.
Worship at 6.
All at Metro.

Turn it up

2006-11-30T00:33:00.000-08:00

Its that time of the year when I start calling the snow phone every day, I pay attention to the weather, and I listen to a mix tape my brother and his old roommate Adam made. They designed this mix to be played while driving to the mountain. To this day it still gets me cranked up to ride the pow. If you like, take a listen:

Snowboard Tunes*

And remember 90% of the time, speed is your friend.

*The song Get On Top by The Red Hot Chili Peppers is not available for streaming play from Rhapsody and has been omitted from this playlist.

**While I consider snowboarding to be a sport that should enjoyed by riders of all ages, some of the content on this mix may not be appropriate for younger listeners. If you are enjoying this with young ears, be warned that Click Click Boom contains mild profanity (although the lyricist is appropriately calling out those who spend their time complaining that they are victims instead of doing something about their situations--a lesson that is very appropriate for young ears). Also Fight for Your Right contains themes that I do not condone without an understanding of the sarcasm intended.

***This playlist is offered as a service of Rhapsody and is completely legal. You will, however, be required to download their app to listen. I can assure you that is it safe. They will offer you the opportunity to purchase a subscription, but these songs can be enjoyed as part of their free 25 songs per month plan. You might consider signing up for an unlimited free month which will get you through the holidays as I plan to share some Yule-tunes in the next few weeks.

In Case You Were Wondering...

2006-11-25T13:52:00.000-08:00

If Johno and I had fun during thanksgiving.

Made with a Mac

You Can’t Make this Stuff Up

2006-10-29T00:01:00.000-07:00

After a platelet donation at the Red Cross the other day I was offered refreshments by an older gentleman. When I sat down to drink his OJ and polish of a rejuvenating Krispy Kreme, he joined me.

He told me he hadn’t worked for money in 24 years, and that he had been a volunteer at the Red Cross for 20. He retired from the City as a manager in charge of issuing various business licenses. As I stuffed doughnut in my face he explained that he and his wife raised 2 sets of twin grand-kids. It seems his daughter was not fit to be much of a mother and could not care for her 4 children, so he took them in.

Now this is where he got me. One pair of twins is girls. One of the twins from this set lives here with 3 kids and the other lives in Florida. Recently the Florida twin had her 2nd miscarriage, so the Portland twin went to visit. Apparently after a miscarriage there is a procedure to clean out the uterus and the Florida twin postponed the procedure due to the Portland sister’s visit. When she eventually went in for the procedure they did a pregnancy test and found that she had been pregnant with twins and that only one had miscarried.

It was his understanding that the second, surviving child may not have been detected if the procedure had not been delayed. She is now looking forward to her first baby and expects her grandparents to be in Florida for the birth.

I guess he won’t be offering me juice this summer.

Righting Wrongs

2006-10-16T00:33:00.000-07:00

The last picture of my dog on this site was more than 40 images ago. That is just wrong.

I shot this with my friend Johno's 70-200 f4 L lens a few months ago. You can see a few more from the same shoot here.

Risky Business

2006-10-08T19:00:00.000-07:00

So remember a while back when I was talking about my new van that was going to be the perfect roadtrip rig? And how upon returning from the sweet roadtrip to Wyo and Montana I was going to sell it? Well, I still have it. Yup, it’s been 2.5 months and that 4-wheeled, piece of family-toting joy is still in my driveway.

But, weren’t you just going to drive it for 2 weeks and then come home and put it back on Craigslist? What happened?

We hit a deer. Yeah, one night while finishing a monumental day of hiking to Porcupine falls, trekking up to Medicine Wheel, and then heading to Cody for some famous Montana beef; a deer ran out in front of us and committed suicide on my van. We were driving a stretch of road than connects Powell to Cody—a drive that my family has driven hundreds of times with nary a swerve to avoid a deer—when I came high beams to antler with what can accurately be described as a deer-in-the-headlights.

He jumped out, I hit the brakes and swerved slightly (remember the road has on-coming traffic), he froze, and then turned my perfect investment into a liability. No passenger was hurt, the van is still drivable, and I guess my day ended better than his. However, the van’s hood and fender are dented severely enough to require replacement. Don’t forget that this purchase was all about saving money, so I am carrying a $1000 deductible on the van. Meaning: I’ve spent the last 2.5 months saving for the repair.

And even after all of this, I’d do it again, hopefully without the deer.

Remember Aron Rolston? You know, the guy who hiked into a Utah canyon and got his arm pinned beneath a boulder? I read a few excerpts from his book a few years ago and I’ve adopted a bit of his philosophy. Everything has risk. When he chose to hike alone into the canyons without informing anyone of his whereabouts, he took a risk. And, at the time of his choice, he determined that the reward for hiking that canyon outweighed the risk of becoming trapped and not being rescued. So, when he became trapped and realized that no rescue was coming he was not surprised, nor was he upset-for he had accepted the risk.

Before I bought the Sienna, I knew there was a risk. I understood, and even considered that a mishap could render it unsellable. I accepted that if that happened I would value it as a trade for the reward of driving my very own mini-van on a cross-state roadie. I have no justification to feel cheated, I made this choice fully understanding the risk.

Friday Fun

2006-10-06T09:31:00.000-07:00

CJ is from my hometown of Powell, WY and is often running some wacky contest on his blog, usually with real prizes! He's got one up there now, so go try your luck--you could win a song from iTunes.

The Marathon that Ate My Lunch

2006-10-01T17:48:00.000-07:00

And a friend who beat it up and took my lunch back.

Today was the 2006 Portland Marathon. It started at 7 am just as the sun was stretching into the sky. I don't know exactly how many participants joined us downtown for the start, but I think it was somewhere between 6 and 8 thousand.
When my training for the marathon started to lag a bit I enlisted my old running partner Shawn to join my on this journey. His steady pace and faithful spirit have been a joy on many long runs and I sure needed him today.The first few miles of a marathon are a kick. Thousands of people, fresh legs, and cool weather make it hard to stick to a slow pace. We were constantly reminding each other to keep the pace down. At mile 1.5 we got our first encouragement from our very own cheering section, Anne & Brian Diedrich, Darren & Stephanie Nielan, and Christa Hill. (Later we would see Nancy and Cameron Jones.)Seeing friendly faces in the crowd is like being greeted at the airport after a long trip.
We made a loop and came right past the same spot 3 miles later and surprised the photographer.Next, the crew moved to a spot near 12 miles and waited for us to appear. We spent miles 6 through 11 on a dull out and back in NW industrial Portland. Our pace was lightened as we passed a praise band: Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, Your love makes me sing!
The next section took us past Montgomery Park and then out highway 30 to the St John's Bridge. We passed the time by convincing each other that we could certainly run 2 more miles. And at one point, Shawn had to break it to me that my math that had figured there would only be a 10k-to-go after we reached mile 18 was wrong, and the 10k-to-go mark didn't hit until mile 20.
After the bridge we got to see our crew again, this time with Nancy and Cameron. We stopped and stretched briefly.
Our old running buddy Jimmy Young appeared in a few miles and ran with us for about 3--not bad considering he had to run back to his car! His energy was appreciated. It was during this section along the bluff, and leading to the Steel Bridge for the finish, that wheels came off. All of the major muscles in my legs began to cramp. Quads, hamstrings, and calves all let me know that I was pushing them well beyond their ability to perform. I was forced to walk much of the last 4 miles. Shawn choose to sacrifice his finish time to stay with me. I cannot think of a more self-less gesture and I am touched by his friendship. His encouragement and patience meant a lot to me out there.

We finished in 4 hours 22 minutes and 5 seconds.

Here are the mile splits:

10:18
00:00, (never saw the marker)
20:47
8:57
8:15
8:57
9:20
8:34
9:00
10:17
8:58
9:49
9:35
9:37
9:14
9:39
9:28
10:04
11:26
9:50
9:52
10:59
9:50
11:32
12:41
12:30

I was carried home and I soaked in a cold tub and then took a long nap. Later we got the whole crew back together for some post-race replenishment at El Indio's.

I'd Like to Play

2006-09-29T00:01:00.000-07:00

Got tagged by a couple of friends for this little quiz.

A book that changed my life besides the Bible:

The Magic of Thinking Big by David J. Schwartz. The part about choosing to listen to the positive broadcasts in you mind over the negative ones shaped who I am today.
Joshua, the Homecoming by Joseph F. Girzone. This book really changed how I thought about Jesus. (Ike handed it to me in 1992.)

A book I’ve read more than once:

Children in the Night by Harold Myra. I've probably read this book 4 times. Ike loaned me his copy in college.

A book I would take with me if I were stuck on a desert island:

Foxfire Book by Eliot Wigginton, (editor) and Students of Eliot Wigginton. This was my Dad's choice as well, what can I say? He learned me right. A book about Hog Dressing, Log Cabin Building, Mountain Crafts and Foods, Planting by the Signs, Snake Lore, Hunting Tales, Faith Healing, and Moonshining? Perfect.

A book that made me laugh:

Marley & Me by John Grogan. A gift from my wife.

A book that made me cry:

A Walk Across America by Peter Jenkins. When his dog died, I cried so hard I had to put the book down.

A book that I wish had been written:

Doing Things Early, How Not to be Last Minute J

A book that I wish had never been written:

I honestly cannot think of one.

A book I’ve been meaning to read:

The Jesus Creed by Scot McKnight
The Divine Conspiriacy by Dallas Willard

I’m currently reading:

Animals in Translation by Temple Grandin
Messy Spirituality by Michael Yaconelli
Coder To Developer by Mike Gunderloy

What are You Reading?

Signposts

2006-09-26T23:28:00.000-07:00

I pass this sign on my way to work. When I notice it, I usually do my
best Homer-thinking-about-doughnuts voice and say to myself "mmm, Meth
Church". I wipe the drool from my lip, get quite a giggle, and then
hurry on my way. Could the sign-makers have known that in 2006 the abbreviation would have such a connotation?

On a more serious note, it’s probably where Jesus would be. I’m not ready to call meth users the lepers of today, but I’m sure He’d spend His time with them.

I’m really trying to be a student of Jesus, so that gets me to thinking about my church and if He’d spend any time with us.

A while back RMW asked about churches and Adam wondered how to define them. I didn’t comment on either post, but I’ve been thinking about it and I’ll tell you about something that I dig at my church.

It is hard to miss and it used to kinda bother me, but now I hope it never leaves. You see, there is this little trashcan, the same size as the ones that are under the desk of every office cubical in America. It's tan and has a black liner curling over the edges. What makes it notable is its assigned post.

It sits on the floor of our auditorium along the front wall right next to the stage.

Now our stage is dwarfed by the size of the auditorium’s front wall, so don’t think that because this trash can sits off to the side of the stage it is not front and center—because it is. Right up there in the front, this dumpy little trashcan sits poised for that moment when a speaker has some trash that must be immediately discarded.

Once I moved the trashcan, but before a week passed, it returned. You see, behind this modest trashcan is a hole in the wall. That’s right; an eight inch square hole has been left by some long-since-removed, sound equipment panel. I’m pretty sure that the hole was left by the building’s prior occupants and only became visible a couple of years ago when we downsized our stage. One of our elders, who works part-time as a janitor at the church, put that trashcan there to hide the hole.

For me, that trashcan sits as a reminder that the church should be doing stuff that has nothing to do with the physical appearance of the building. We could spend the money to get it fixed, but our leadership chooses to spend money on ministry—to the detriment of the upkeep of the building.

I like that I worship in a humble building because our money goes to other things like missions and counseling and teens. There are blood drives and abuse support groups and addiction groups and housing challenged people who all use the building. Just this Sunday a representative from the benevolence group stood not 12 feet from that trashcan and with tears in his eyes talked about the people who he had seen blessed by the stuff we spend money on.

Could we do more? Sure. Will somebody volunteer to patch the hole one day? Probably. But I think our priorities are in the right place when a hole goes unpatched and a food box gets filled.

Breaking the "More to Come" Curse

2006-09-25T00:25:00.000-07:00

I didn't even know it was happening. But, look at this text from my very first post:

Been thinking about keeping a blog for a while. I'll see if I'm interesting enough to keep this updated. Mostly I'm avoiding some work that needs to be done. Ouch, self-guilt in my first post [sigh], more to come...

After that ill-fated posting I went silent for 13 months.

Then a few weeks ago I penned that treacherous phrase again. Confused by my silence, I've lighted on the explanation, "More to Come" is a curse. I'll try not to say it again.

More to Come

2006-08-16T02:01:00.000-07:00

Photo by Christa Hill

We've got lots of stories from our trip, but I haven't penned them all yet. So as a teaser, here's me and the pooch enjoying a waterfall deep in the Wyoming backcountry.

Get Your Own, This One's Mine

2006-07-25T00:51:00.000-07:00

Guess what all the cool kids are bumpin’ in the summer of ’06? That’s right the van is makin’ a comeback and it starts in my driveway. We couldn’t see rippin’ cross-country in the LC for 2 weeks, so we bought a used Toyota Sienna. After the roadie, we’ll put it back on Craigslist for the next cool kid.

*Disclaimer: The author of this post is desperately trying to seem cool by overusing apostrophes.

Some Things about Camp Last Week That Rocked

2006-07-18T17:30:00.000-07:00

5th and 6th graders (see previous post)
Junior Birdman, Purple Soup, Moose on the Loose, etc
Carpetball
Foursquare
Going with my wife
Not worrying about any meal—they just magically appeared at the appropriate times
No cell phone
No need to drive a car
WiFi (you didn’t think I’d completely unplug, did you?)
Shawn’s leadership, Nancy’s patience
Running with Shawn
Talking with campers about Africa (I may never get to go again, but maybe I can inspire someone else)
Taking more than 500 Pictures
Being inspired by student-aged counselors
Making a necklace at Christa’s Craft Cabana
Wearing shorts, t-shirts and Tevas everyday (except one where I put on a pair of jeans)
Praise in the small lodge

I Have Seen My Past

2006-07-17T00:17:00.000-07:00

It has been more than 10 years since I last worked at a summer camp. Back then I was the fresh-faced, college student who turned the heads of teenage girls. Not anymore. There is a new crop of college students and my wrinkled grill cannot compete. I’m now the guy the speaker points to last when he wants to make a point about age not making a difference. I’m older than some of the camper’s parents. But I still feel a passion for camp and campers, and I’ve easily got as much energy as those fresh-faced punks.

My friend Shawn directs an amazing camp for 5th and 6th graders at Camp Yamhill. Last year he wrangled my wife into joining him and this year I got to go too. I knew I would enjoy it but I was unprepared for the impact it would leave on me. Kids at that age have not yet learned that they should be “too cool for school”. They invest 100% in everything they encounter: games, laughter, friendships, meals, worship, etc. They have not been taught by life that they should hold back. Spending time with them was invigorating. It was inspiring. It reminded me of how I want to live.

And so in them I choose to see my future.

Refreshing

2006-07-07T12:36:00.000-07:00

The other day it was over 100 degrees. To celebrate I drank a refreshing bottle of Krest. Krest is bottled by the Coca-Cola Company in Africa.

I was introduced to it by my friends the Cashs (Jeff & Cheryl) when I visited them in Uganda. As many of you know I try to avoid beverages with copious amounts of caffeine. (You think I’m hyped up now? You should see me after drinking a Coke.) Before I went to Africa, I was instructed by Johno, Steve and Ike that a cold beverage should never be refused; that it was a luxury to be graciously accepted and savored. However, in every picture I saw from their trip, the cold, bottled beverages they had were Cokes. Understanding the importance of their exhortations, I resigned myself to the notion that I would be drinking a few Cokes while in Uganda.

For some reason they don’t have Sprite. They do have Krest. Jeff told me that in an effort to get people to take malaria medicine, they invented a citrusy drink and laced it with medicine. It had a bitter taste, probably from the medicine, and became a favorite of many. After a while, they stopped putting medicine in it, but demand for the drink was still high so Coca-Cola continued to bottle it complete with a non-medicine, medicine taste. To me, it tastes a little like Squirt, but not quite as sweet and with more bitter. Its like the bitter part of the grapefruit skin was included right along with the sweet fleshy part. My wife tried a sip and puckered like a pleat on Fat Albert’s khakis.

I drank quite a few of them in Africa and remember their cooling, refreshing qualities with fondness. Since my return I have not located anyone in the States who sells it. Imagine: a luxury that an African can enjoy for a dime that I can’t get here in America! Recently my friends Tim and Chalon went to Kenya and they brought me a bottle. I figured the hot weather was a perfect excuse to enjoy it.

Fireworks

2006-07-06T01:34:00.000-07:00

Took some photos the other night. Here's a few I liked.

Fireworks

(I think Flickr's process washes out the colors, so you can also view them here with a bit more vibrancy.)

Happy Father's Day (4 days late)

2006-06-22T13:02:00.000-07:00

I’m not sure when it happened, but things have changed. I used to look down at my opposable-thumb equipped appendages and see my hands. Now when I look down I see my Dad. Oh, they’re still mine, but they look like his. The chunky knuckles, stubby nails, and thumbs with only one joint are a dead ringer for my father’s.

To me, the resemblance in uncanny, in fact do a double-take every time I look at this picture.

My dad used his hands for all the usual things. They cooked meals, tossed balls, prepped sermons, gave pats, assisted neighbors, and did home projects. He taught me how to bend my fingers so they look natural when standing in choir—a technique I used quite a bit and still use today when I run. More recently I’ve seen his hands blogging and holding grandkids.

I hope that I inherit more than just the physical resemblance. I’d be honored to accomplish as much as his hands in the areas of encouragement, helpfulness, and charity. It’s when I find myself following his example of action that I am most proud of the similarity. I know that much of what I am is a direct result of his influence, both in how my hands look and what they do, and I am exceptionally thankful for that. Thanks Dad.

Happy Mother's Day

2006-05-14T19:05:00.000-07:00

Especially to the mom of these 2 kids and the grandma of all three, my mom. I love you mom!

You like jazz, Evan?

2006-05-12T19:13:00.000-07:00

Then I’ll play something for you. I can hold that note all day, buddy.

So I heard a friend of mine talking the other day about all the kinds of music that she likes. And at the end of her list she said that she didn’t like jazz. "Huh," I thought, "here is someone who is definitely dominate at the school, I wonder if we are talking about the same jazz?" So I’m making her a mix tape (cd really) of some jazz that I like and then we’ll be on the same page. Of course she may still not like it and then we won’t be friends. (Can you see the importance of this tape?)

Here are some of my initial thoughts, if anyone has a suggestion, leave a comment and I’ll take it into consideration.

Miles Davis: maybe a little too be bop, but this guy has always been at the top of my list. Something off of Kind of Blue for sure. (BTW this is the very music the nanny in Jerry McGuire gave Tom.)

Harry Connick: lots to choose from here from trios and quartets to big band

Take6: have you heard their latest album? As Steve would say: butta.

Manhattan Transfer, "Oo Wah, Oo Wah cool, cool Kitty, tell us about the boy from New York City", may be a little too Do Wap to make a jazz mix, but Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square hits the heart of what I’m going for. Not to mention Birdland, although that may be a little too fusion.

Nora Jones, Diana Krall, Lena Horne, Sarah Vaughan can all sing.

And for swingin' jazz Sinatra. you know something from In the Wee Small Hours or Songs For Swingin' Lovers

Then maybe some jazz/new age blend off one of my Lights Out compilations.

any other suggestions?

I'll post the final tracks when I decide on them in the comments.

*Disclaimer: I will still be friends with her even if after hearing this awesome tape, she still claims to not like jazz.

Remembering Aunt Pat

2006-05-10T01:12:00.000-07:00

Editor's Note My wife Christa wrote this after her Aunt Pat died 2 weeks ago. I was touched by her thoughts and am sharing them here with Christa's permission.

I have many memories of Aunt Pat. These are just a few that stand out in my mind when I think about the times I’ve spent with her:

When visiting Grandma Clay, you could always count on Aunt Pat’s sliding glass door to be unlocked and Aunt Pat awaiting your arrival. As soon as dad pulled the car into the driveway, my brother and I (and eventually, my sister) would jump out of the car and run into Aunt Pat’s house. “Well, look who’s here!” she would say and greet us with a big hug then send us on our way to Grandma Clay’s house. We would take off down the pathway through the garden and at the end of it we would turn around and wave to Aunt Pat who was standing on her back porch.

Aunt Pat had an amazing collection of salt & pepper shakers. It wasn’t hard to see that she was well liked and loved by family and friends. She probably received a set from everyone that knew her. I loved to look at them and guess who gave them to her. Sometimes we would play a game with the salt & pepper shakers. Aunt Pat would describe the set and it was my job to find the set on the wall. Even today, I cannot look at salt & pepper shakers without thinking of Aunt Pat.

In junior high, it was fashionable to wear canvas shoes without the shoe laces. Judging from the number of shoe laces that Aunt Pat would buy for me, her idea of shoe fashion was very different than mine. One day I received a package in the mail from Aunt Pat. There was a note that read: “I found the perfect shoe for you. Very fashionable, comfortable and no shoes laces required. Love, Aunt Pat.” Inside the box was a pair of purple, plastic “jelly” shoes. In all, Aunt Pat gave me a pink pair, yellow pair, and even a blue pair. Needless to say, the shoe laces eventually found their way back into my canvas shoes.

Of all the experiences that I have shared with Aunt Pat, my favorite memory was being one of her students during Vacation Bible School:

Imagine, for a moment, that it is the final evening of Vacation Bible School and the preschool class is about to take the stage. Just to the right of the stage stand the preschool teacher and her flock of preschoolers. The preschool teacher is my Aunt Pat. Her hair is darker not yet peppered with grey. Her smile reveals her youthful spirit not phased by the preschoolers brewing around her or the life of a grown-up. Aunt Pat herds her flock of preschoolers to the stage. Parents armed with Kodak cameras and handfuls of flashbulbs fill the pews. One preschooler waves fervently at his parents. Another stands frozen in place eyes glued to the carpet below her feet. Another announces his need to use the restroom. Despite the distractions, Aunt Pat is unwavering in her quest for order.

Aunt Pat locks eyes with each child standing on the stage. Her eyes are watchful and protective not impaired by her glasses or the distraction of aging. The sheer ability to herd the preschoolers to the stage is amazing. She has a gift with these little ones. Her love for these children is genuine and not just because I am one of the preschoolers. The children quickly and quietly form a line across the stage while Aunt Pat takes her place on the front pew. One by one the children recite the memory verses. When it is my turn I take the liberty to recite a verse from the Gospel according to Christa. While the words to the verse are not accurate, based on the reaction of Aunt Pat, the delivery and presentation is perfect. Flashes of lights fill the auditorium, wide smiles form on parents’ faces, and a grateful applause breaks out into an ovation. Aunt Pat is leading the ovation. She extends her arms toward her students and continues to applaud. She gathers her flock of preschoolers and ushers them off the stage.

Aunt Pat is one of my heroes of faith. She taught me that “Jesus Loves Me” is not only a song but a truth and a promise. She taught me the wisdom of building my life on the Rock. She taught me that legos, playdough, and felt boards often illustrate the gospel more clearly than the preacher. She taught me that you don’t have to color within the lines to be a follower of Jesus – He will accept you just as you are.

It is my prayer that I can, as a wife, sister, daughter, friend and Sunday school teacher, leave a legacy of faith like that of my Aunt Pat. It is a tall order to fill but one definitely worth striving for.

The Real Housewives of Fairview Oregon

2006-04-30T21:53:00.000-07:00

On Monday I broke my back. I have been slowly aggravating it with long training runs and extended trips in the car. Then on Monday while playing volleyball, it broke. One minute I was blocking at the net and the next I was crawling off the court. If you have experienced back troubles, you know just how unexpectedly this type of episode can stop you. My back-pain journey is too long and winding, (perhaps I should say crooked), to discuss here, but the gist of my situation is that once every 6-12 months I do something that puts me out of commission like a car with a flat tire.

This week’s episode was particularly debilitating. I tried to go to work on Tuesday, but after rolling out of my car, I was unable to walk across the parking lot to get to the door. Knowing I’d be of little use in my cube, I rolled back into my car, went home, and asked Christa to help me find a chiropractor. She did, and while I waited for my appointment I lay on my back. At this stage in my recovery my only respite is lying down. After my appointment I parked myself front of the TV to wait for my back to begin healing.

It was during this pain sprinkled recovery that I was introduced to the Real Housewives of Orange County. RHOC is a reality-show copy of Desperate Housewives. It airs on Bravo, the network that has brought us Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, Show Kid Moms and Dads, Show Dog Moms and Dads, Sports Kid Moms and Dads, Blow Out, Project Greenlight, Being Bobby Brown, Project Runway, and Celebrity Poker Showdown. Now I may be too old to understand the whole MySpace phenomenon, but I get reality TV. It speaks to me. I know it is a guilty pleasure that I leer into the lives of these people, but the situations they dream up on Bravo are wildly entertaining. In addition, nothing says pain relief like a good dose of someone else’s exploited tragedy.

Being the red-headed, step child of NBC causes Bravo to occasionally blur the lines of good judgment and acceptable programming. My intuition told me this would be the case with RHOC, but I wasn’t going anywhere soon and they were airing a 4 episode marathon. Without resisting, I was drawn into the real lives of the Orange County Housewives. The RHOC follows the activities of a handful of extremely rich women, whose touch with my reality was breached long ago. They wrestle with how they will continue to afford weekly, private Pilates lessons after they purchase their new house because its price tag is 3.5 million dollars. They spend copious amounts of time on image. Their physical appearance, cars, homes, careers, husbands, kids and did I mention physical appearance must all be crafted into an image that gives them status and therefore: validation. They don’t have friends—they network. They obsess over their kid’s friends and are mortified that one of them may drop out of their high class world by dating or marrying someone who is unable to financially provide the life that they are accustomed to. It is pure trash and it makes me a little sad. But, it is someone else’s trash and I’m guilty of craning my neck out the window to see the carnage as I drive by.

When the 4 episodes finished I decided I wouldn’t add it to Tivo’s list of shows to record. It was a fun afternoon, but I don’t think I need any more Real Housewife drama in my life.

On Wednesday I went back to the chiropractor for another adjustment. After he cracked me I didn’t want to undo his work by immediately jumping into the car, so I opted for a short walk up and down the block. I’ve found that this can sometimes help solidify a chiropractic adjustment. Unfortunately, I was still in quite a bit of pain and walking down the street was an agonizing chore that I’m sure conjured up visions of the hunchback of Notre Dame to anyone who saw me.

My new chiropractor is in Fairview, a small town that has been building what they call a village. It is a cute neighborhood with new homes and a charming, Main-Street-feeling, commercial district where many of the curb-side businesses have apartments above them. It is developing into a quaint, little community; however, the new homes are a bit out of my price-range. As I turned at the end of the block to head back to my car, I met one of Fairview’s residents.

She was driving a brand new Acura SUV, had flawlessly highlighted hair, brilliantly white teeth, and a tan that did not belong in Oregon during the month of April. I didn’t have to reach far into my memory bank of stereotypes to label her a housewife and I casually scanned for a camera crew as she maneuvered her sport ute to my side of the street calling from her open window:

Her: I’m sorry, but can I ask you a question.
Me: OK
Her: Are you in pain?
Me: I guess, a little. I was just at the chiropractor.
Her: This may sound weird, but can I pray with you?
Me: Yeah, sure...

And she did. Right there from her SUV, with me on the curb, she asked the Great Physician to heal me. After she said amen, she explained that she had listened to a CD that morning about how Jesus spent His time on earth seeking out people who were hurting. When she saw me struggling down the sidewalk, she was compelled to stop. Before she drove away, she said she’d understand if I thought she was weird. I told her I thought she was brave. What could be more selfless than to stop in the middle of a trip to the Post Office to offer a prayer of encouragement to a total stranger? How different from the self-seeking housewives on Bravo. What lessons about judging, priorities, being available, and courage was the ancient carpenter teaching me? What healing has been granted to me because of the prayer of this housewife?

A hundred small decisions

2006-04-12T00:17:00.000-07:00

Reaching the finish line of a marathon is really about making a couple hundred good decisions. I've just begun training for my 3rd marathon, and the questions have already begun. Usually they involve: Will I train today, or sleep in? I know that the finish line can be reached, I just have to be smart about each small decision that comes along. I'm keeping a brief blog over here, in case anyone is interested. Often something of note will happen on a run and I will share it, other times I'll just post mileage. Feel free to check it out.

Ready Six..

2006-04-07T22:33:00.000-07:00

One of the reason's I have this blog is because I admire my friend Allan. He had one first and then I followed.

I don't know if many of you read his posts, (they can be infrequent, sometimes), but if you don't, get a news reader/aggregator and subscribe to his feed.

This video that he just posted about, blew me away on so many levels. Go watch it. I'm not kidding, go watch it.

Another Reason to Love the Internet

2006-04-05T00:43:00.000-07:00

Since we got our Tivo we never think about when shows air. We just know that when we want to watch them they are waiting for us. The intelligence built into Tivo is amazing and only rarely does it miss something.

Sunday night was one of those rare occasions.

Our Tivo knows that one of our favorite shows is the West Wing. It also knows that it should record anything to do with Duke and Basketball. It has the ability to record 2 shows simultaneously, so conflicts are infrequent; when they happen, Tivo respects our rankings. On our list, Duke Basketball is on the top. (Isn’t it on everyone’s?) Both ESPN and ESPNU aired the Duke women’s basketball game Sunday night. Although it was the same game on each channel, the title in the schedule was different and it led Tivo to believe they were different shows and should both take priority over the West Wing.

So, no West Wing. Now before you get to worried that I’m jonesin’ for an unhealthy TV fix, remember that this was to be the show where they wrote out Leo, my favorite character.

One of many Leo moments:
LEO
Listen, I don't have time to make people comfortable. If a change has to be made, it has to be made. Jerry, Cal, Mack, Steve -- you're fired.

CAL
What?

TOBY
What?

LEO
No kidding. It's moving day. I want Toby. The rest of you-- thanks very much.

They all stare at Leo.

LEO
Fellas. Look at my face. You're done.

Everyone except Leo and Toby leaves.

LEO
[to Toby] Don't screw up.
End Leo moment

So you can imagine my mild panic when we learned, too late, that the West Wing was not recorded.
Remembering what my friend Darren is always telling me about this cool internet thingy, I take a gamble and search for a BitTorrent of my missing episode. Within moments I was connected and downloading an HD version of a show that had just aired a few hours ago. BitTorrents being what they are, it took a few hours to complete, but we only had to wait until Monday to watch it.

NBC would tell me this activity is illegal—and they could win such an argument in court. I justify it because I have already paid DirecTV for the show, I just didn’t happen to watch it when they aired it. I could have easily been watching it from my Tivo or a tape. This reminds me of a time when downloading illegal music was all the rage.

The music companies never wanted iTunes or Rhapsody to deliver single song offerings to consumers. They were much happier when they forced us to buy entire CDs. Once they realized the music download phenomenon wasn’t going anywhere, however; they decided to legalize it to get their hands around whatever revenue they could.

I think the same will happen with video. To my observation, the pattern is the same, people want what they want and if they have to download it illegally to get it, well, they will. It won’t be long before every show aired will be available for purchase online. All it will take is the networks to wise up and Apple to make a device sexy enough for the masses--iTV. (Yes I know you can already get some shows from iTunes, but this won't really take off until people can watch them in their living rooms.) (And don't tell Apple, but Microsoft is already positioned to be the killer device for this content with their latest X-box.)

Waiting for UPS

2006-03-30T03:27:00.000-08:00

I apologize for geeking-out a bit on this post.

Five years ago I assembled my own computer I dropped a P3 800 processor in it with 256 MB of RAM and a 40 GB hard drive. I splurged and paid $254 for a Creative Labs 3DBlaster Annihilator 2 (GeForce2 GTS) complete with 32 MB of glorious, video sparkle—and Unreal Tournament, fragging goodness. Over the years I have upgraded the memory to 320 MB, added 160 GB of hard drive space, and installed a DVD reader. It has seen 5 different operating systems. Its daily tasks have varied from programming functions, games, the ‘net, homework assignments, and email. Although it has always served me faithfully, it can no longer keep up with my activities.

As my photography equipment has evolved, so have the sizes of the files I work with. At times I'll avoid a stack of pictures that need editing because I dread waiting for each of them to creep across the screen.

So, I’m assembling a new computer. In fact I just ordered:

P4 3.2 with HT

ASUS Motherboard with NVIDIA nForce4 SLI chipset and a fanless cooling system

4 GB of DDR2 memory

2 250 GB SATA 3.0 GB hard drives that I’ll RAID 0 together to make one 500 GB data drive

1 160 GB SATA 3.0 GB hard drive for the OS (I may partition this for a dual-boot (xp64, Vista, OSX...)

I still have a few items to pick up before it will all work, but the bulk of it should be here early next week. I’ve never done anything with RAID, so that should be fun. I went round and round deciding if I should just get one big drive or 2 smaller ones and I’m still not sure if I’ve chosen correctly. I do know, however, that the RAID will make it scream.

To get 4 GB of memory was a little pricey, but I don’t want to do this again for another 5 years. Also, I’d really like to see how Photoshop performs with a 150 MB file and no need to cache anything to the disk. (I may actually get some of my big panos on the wall.)

The Last Time We'll See 4 or 23 on a Duke Jersey

2006-03-24T01:15:00.000-08:00

Duke's Coach K, after tonight's loss:
I'm proud of my team, obviously, their 32 wins and 4 losses, and they have won championships and the two kids here have been two of the best players I've ever coached. They have been part of 116 wins at Duke during their four years, many championships. And although we have lost games, they have always represented me, our program and our school and themselves in the best possible manner.

I'm proud of them, and I'm disappointed that we can't go on, but you got to learn, you don't win all the time. You lose too. And you have to handle losses with the dignity and class that you handle the wins.

For right now, for me, it's to make sure that these kids don't walk out of here blaming themselves, and looking only at the loss. I've always said that you want to end the season where you're cutting down the nets or you're crying in your locker room. And our kids were all crying in our locker room. And they, they have been a great group of kids. And led by these seniors. And this is a team that had a lot of seniors and a lot of freshmen.

And so it put a heavier load on those seniors and especially these two kids. And I just thought that they were two of the best kids I've coached in my 26 years. Sean, Lee, Pat, and Ross, the other seniors, they all did a good job. We had a great year. 32 wins, 4 losses. Championships. Finished the regular season number one. I know we're not -- we weren't ever a dominant team. We knew that. And so things have to go right for us to win. And tonight LSU just, one, they -- J.J. made a good point, it's the first team we played all year that could really block shots like that. It wasn't just their own the ball defense or off the ball, their ability to block shots made us change some shots inside. And I don't know if we have ever, we ever adjusted to that.

I'm not a blamer. I take responsibility. I think we all could have done a little bit better job, but the other team forces you into those situations. And the game is a game of adjustments. And I don't think we ever completely adjusted to the physicality of this game. And so they did. And they won and we shake their hands and that's part of being a competitor. So there's no excuses or no blame.

Car Care Day

2006-03-19T00:05:00.000-08:00

My church sponsors a bi-annual event to change the oil and perform safety checks on cars. The service is available to anyone and is mostly found useful by our older members and their friends. Today was the first time I was able to volunteer. After an assessment my mechanical skills I was promoted(?) to the car-wash and vacuum team-—which was fine with me.

I couldn’t help but feel pride for the leaders who organize this event and the real mechanics who volunteer their time at it. To me this is what the church should be about and I am glad to be a part.

A New Lease

2006-03-06T01:18:00.000-08:00

In 1989 I was given a pair of headphones for graduation. They were a welcome companion during study sessions, amateur recording events, and numerous road trips. They faithfully reproduced my music collection as it evolved from cassettes to cds to mp3s.

However, after about 8 years of use, the fake leather that covered the ear pads disintegrated leaving the foam exposed. This destroyed their ability to block outside noises since they could no longer form a tight seal around my ears.

In the land of cubicles, where I work, it is often necessary to block out the ubiquitous conversations of co-workers. For this task I daily call upon my trusty headphones. To counteract their inability to deter outside noise I increase the volume.

Recently, I decided that I needed better headphones—not because mine don’t sound good, because they do—but because I have to crank them up so much to keep out the unwanted noise. While I was searching for some new headphones to buy, I stumbled upon a discussion about replacing worn ear pads. Soon I was on Sony’s website and without hesitation I bought a replacement set. One week and an easy installation later, I am pleased to report they have never sounded better. It is as if they are brand new.

If only everything I own could be revitalized with such simplicity. Imagine if my 20 year old car could be revitalized with a new set of seat covers. Or if a $10 part bought at radio-shack could make my television picture as clear as it was the day I bought it. What about a washing machine additive that could keep my clothes from becoming worn out.

And, what does it say about a piece of electronics that can still be enjoyed after 16 years? Possibly more amazing, is that the standard for delivering sound from a personal device to the listener's ears has remained constant.

Here’s to simple fixes, unchanged, industry standards, and my uncle Russell for buying me these sweet headphones.

Sinopah

2006-02-26T18:14:00.000-08:00

Today at the schoolyard I played fetch with my dog.

Stay away from my slushy

2006-02-24T00:18:00.000-08:00

I know its not perfect, but it makes me laugh. (As if my nephew needs any help making people laugh.) Feel free to submit your own caption. I figure CJ has a pretty good head start on us.

Olympics

2006-02-18T02:18:00.000-08:00

90% of the time speed is your friend.
Don’t ride scared.
Always respect your board.
Who’s ready to ride?

I snowboard with a tight group of snow enthusiasts made up mostly of my brothers. When we are out in the cold we have a handful of sayings that we repeat to each other. Three of them are warnings; one is a mantra. The warnings are akin to such battle-tested phrases as keep your eye on the ball, hydrate or die, and never leave your wingman. We recite these quips because we have learned from experience that they are true, and because in the excitement of a powder-filled slope or even in the forgettable flats near a lift-line they will keep you off your butt.

Especially, always respect your board.

A snowboard is a fickle friend. Its balance beam-like properties and opposing edges should never be disrespected. As soon as you drop your guard, you will catch an edge. At no time should you relax.

No one knows this better than Lindsey Jacobellis. I don’t think the now infamous, method-grab was to blame for her crash. Nor do I think that it was any more unwarranted than a racer pumping their fists in the air before they cross the finish line as Tanja Frieden did while capturing the gold in women’s snowboardcross. Where Lindsey made her mistake was not heeding warning #3. When she launched from the second to last jump in the race her mind was thinking gold and not about respecting her board. The style-filled backside grab was the beginning of her celebration and should not be questioned. Her mistake was not the jump--it was the landing. Seeing her bounce across the blue-painted snow should serve as a reminder of how capricious a snowboard can be.

While it is sad to see Lindsey miss the top spot on the podium, I admire her spirit. She has admitted that she “messed up”, but is quick to add that “snowboarding is fun.” In my opinion it is one of the most fun events they air. The competitors in the snowboarding events are riding because they like it and it is fun. The medals are nice, but I’ll bet each of them would be out riding even if there were no Olympics. (I doubt you could say that for many of the sour-faced, pairs figure skaters.) Which is why we snowboarders always answer the fourth question enthusiastically: “I’m ready to ride!”

Digital Secrets

2006-02-16T02:22:00.000-08:00

The great thing about this blog is the interaction that it spawns. I enjoy hearing from each of you and feel like the dialog is easily as engaging as my posts. Sometimes a question is raised that starts a new conversation. My dad asked me about the technique I was discussing on Flickr that I used for the sunrise shot in the Hut Trip post. I figured the explanation merited a post of its own.

First, let’s start with the limitations of the sensor in a digital camera. For any given exposure a camera can only capture a fixed range of brightness or colors. This fixed range is smaller than the range that you can see with your eyes. So, if you try to photograph a scene that has a broad range of brightness, your picture will not look like what you saw. Since many of the pictures we take have color levels that fall within the camera’s range, this limitation often goes unnoticed. A picture that does not have both a bright light source and a dark shadow will generally be accurately captured. However, there are times when a scene has both a bright light source and dark shadows preventing the camera from representing both extremes in one image.

When a scene with a broad range of brightness is encountered, the camera has to choose whether it will capture the bright colors at the expense of the dark ones, or, capture the dark ones at the expense of the brights. A common scene with this issue is a sunrise. The range between the light area and dark area is much too wide for the camera to capture, so it usually chooses to properly expose the light area resulting in a nice pink sky with a black horizon. This silhouette is a pleasing image and makes a great picture; however, it does not accurately represent what the photographer saw. This dilemma describes the predicament I was in that morning at the hut.

The solution I chose was to take 2 images and then combine them on my computer. The first image was exposed for the foreground; note the detail of the snow on the branches. The sky in the first picture is completely blown-out and doesn’t have any of the red that I was looking at. In the second picture I exposed for the sky, capturing the rich, red colors that were present. In doing so I sacrificed the detail in the trees. Once I got home, I used Photoshop to combine the 2 images. I learned the process from a website called Luminous Landscapes in a tutorial they call Digital Blending. Check it out if you are interested in the actual detail of combining the images in Photoshop.

Traditionally, photographers would use a split neutral density filter to achieve this result. These filters block light at the top of the image while letting it through on the bottom allowing the photographer to pull off 2 separate exposures with one image.

Another technique worth mentioning is the use of fill-flash. Let’s say you have a colorful sky and you want to take a picture of someone in front of it. Without flash you will just get a silhouette of the person. But, if you turn on the flash you can achieve both the color from the sky and the person in the foreground.

Hope that helps, Dad. And, if anyone tries this out, I’d love to see your results.

Hut Trip

2006-02-08T09:22:00.000-08:00

They are called huts, but don’t let the name fool you. Although these structures have a history as a simple system of shelters used by shepherds as they moved their sheep from one mountain pasture to the next, they have evolved into a collection of cabins used by summer hikers and winter, backcountry enthusiasts. Today the simple wooden shacks have been replaced by sprawling cabins complete with large windows that open to breathtaking views, efficient woodstoves, comfortable sleeping quarters, and battery powered lights that are charged by solar panels.

To reach the hut I visited this past weekend, we hiked 3.5 miles over 9 inches of fresh snow that covered the season’s accumulated snowpack. The trail rose nearly 1600 feet from the trailhead parking and took about 3 hours to navigate.

My brother Blake has been on 4 similar trips and my schedule finally allowed me to join him. Also in our party were my brother Cody, Blake’s friend Hull, Hull’s coworker Kerry, and her husband Mark. My brothers and I are snowboarders and use a system called a splitboard to hike on the snow, (I’ll discuss my split board in a future post), the other members all ride tele skis which transition easily from carving to hiking.

Once we reached the hut we quickly emptied our packs of anything but the safety essentials and headed back out to carve some turns.

The recent snowfall gave us numerous powder turns, and I soon realized this trip was going to be special. You see, here in the NW the snow falls at a temp just below freezing and is usually met by rising temperatures, causing the snow to feel heavy. What I found in Colorado was much different. Their snow falls when the mercury reads 10 degrees and it regularly stays below 20 keeping the snow light and fluffy. Light, cold snow offers an effortless glide that is amazing to ride.

The next day was spent exploring and riding the numerous glades around the hut. The snow continued to fall and kept us from venturing onto the slopes above timberline because of high winds. This mattered little since the trees protected us from the weather and offered remarkable stashes of powder-filled delights.

On our final day the storm receded, and we climbed the large snowfield above the hut where we found generous carving options. My brothers and I enjoyed them so much that we hiked back up and rode them again even though it meant we would be caught in the afternoon traffic-jam that was sure to clog I-70 as the ski resorts sent people home for the night. Such are the sacrifices for a group of powderhounds intent on satisfying their fix.

As grand as I’ve made this all sound, there were moments of severe discomfort. Not only is my NW snow different from that found in Colorado, so is the altitude. I live at about 300 ft above sea level. Our first day’s hike began at 10,160 ft and climbed from there. Most of the time I felt as if I’d had 7/8 of my lungs surgically removed. It didn’t help that Blake’s friends are amazing athletes each competing in numerous adventure-races, triathlons and ultra-marathons; not to mention the fact that they live at an elevation over 6000ft. I am grateful for their patience with me as I often practiced the deadman’s shuffle up the trail behind them.

So why endure such pain? Surely there are powder-covered slopes that can be accessed with the assistance of chairlifts? This is true, but they come with some unavoidable nuisances. The best snow is snow that no one else has touched. At a resort it will mostly all be touched in a couple of hours, so you are always racing to beat everyone else to the ‘goods’. You also have to wait in line with a bunch of knuckleheads who, like you, feel cheated that they spent so much on a lift ticket only to waste all of their time in a slow lift line. The closest I’ve come to a fistfight as an adult was waiting in line for a ride to the top.

In the backcountry these problems are avoided. The snow is limitless and lift-lines are non-existent.

The turns I enjoyed on this trip were some of the best I’ve seen. The soft, CO powder dropped from beneath me as I weightlessly glided down the slopes. For those of you who haven’t experienced this, pick something in your life that you enjoy and then imagine enjoying it under the perfect conditions. Your favorite meal shared with your closest friends. Watching your favorite team beat their rivals as you cheer from the student section. Listening to your favorite music performed by your favorite band in a private jam-session. A kiss that lingers on your lips and tastes as sweet as honey. (Do you feel me?) Such were the joys of this trip.

In Search of Mrs. Hagel

2006-01-23T04:19:00.000-08:00

After 15 years I can still name every teacher I had in High School. I owe much of the knowledge I rely on today to their tutelage. The memories I have of their classes range from blurry, general impressions to crystal-clear lessons that I can still recite today. One of those lessons has shaped almost every day of my life since.

The class was journalistic writing and the teacher was Mrs. Hagel. Mrs. Hagel was younger than some of the teachers at Powell High who continued to lecture the same lessons from well-worn texts year after year. She brought a vibrancy and enthusiasm to her classes that I enjoyed. She instructed more as a mentor than as a teacher. As advisor to the school newspaper she had two classrooms, one with traditional desks and the other with large round tables that we would gather around to collaborate on group assignments, (very forward thinking in 1986 Wyoming).

I remember she was one of the first teachers to have a computer in her room. It was a Mac Plus that was used by Mrs. Hagel and her newspaper staff to layout the school newspaper with PageMaker and a LaserWriter (can you believe the LaserWriter cost $6995 back in 1985?). Although I wasn’t on the official newspaper staff, she would allow me access to her computer. I think even back then I was a bit of a geek and as such was pressed into service when the silly box with a keyboard and mouse was not behaving. I am solely responsible for installing the Moose on her computer. (That didn’t last long.)

The writing I do today is strongly influenced by her class. We discussed many usages of grammar and I call on them often. One that I remember fondly was the use of the serial comma. Only that’s not what we called it in her class; I’ve only learned that name for it recently. My memory of the lesson is vivid, for it seemed that she was giving me a nugget of grammatical truth that would set me apart from my under-achieving contemporaries. The lesson went something like this: “You know how as a freshman you were taught to separate each item in a list with a comma? Well, modern style calls for the omission of the last comma. So instead of snow, rain, and sleet, you can now just write snow, rain and sleet.” I remember thinking that Mrs. Hagel was on the cutting edge for giving us this piece of tradition altering knowledge. Because of the advent of proportional width fonts I had just unlearned the use of 2 spaces to separate sentences, so I absorbed the dropping of the comma readily. With her warning that the older style was still accepted and many would not embrace this new usage, I held my head high as other teachers marked my papers. I raised my nose and sniffed at the air as I saw my classmates stuck in the past constantly typing commas for which there was no need.

I have continued this practice unswervingly for the past 15 years. I had assumed that eventually the rest of the writing world would catch-up to us early-adopters and I would only see that final comma in the oldest of manuscripts. Except that never happened, instead ~~[Pullout:~~ ] I see generous comma usage all around me. Perplexed, I went looking for an answer to this inconsistency. I found numerous discussions on the topic and they all led me down a path that I did not expect.

It appears that each comma of a list is very much required in modern writing style. The reason is quite sensible and has everything to do with clarity. Consider this, “Much thanks to my parents, Blake and Christa”, without the serial comma it could be interpreted, by those who don’t know my family, that Blake and Christa are my parents. When written like this, “Much thanks to my parents, Blake, and Christa”, it is clear that I am thankful to all 4 parties listed.

Numerous style authorities document serial comma use. The dissenters to this style are British guides and newspaper guidelines, namely the AP style guide. It seems that the space saved on a newspaper page by omitting the serial comma is enough to forego its use.

Could it be that she was teaching the AP style and I missed that part of the lesson? It was a class on journalistic writing. I don’t remember discussing many style guidelines that were reserved only for journalism, so this one should have stuck out if that was the case. Could it be that I was eager to differentiate myself from the other writers at Powell High School, so I ignored the part about its journalism only usage? My ego could be at work here. I can’t imagine that Mrs. Hagel got it wrong. (Although I think her husband was the editor for the local paper, hmm. Perhaps in her house AP style was the only one that mattered.)

Whatever the reason, I’ve been incorrectly skipping the serial comma for years. One only has to scroll back to my December, 9 post to see its misuse right on this page. I have begun using the correct style and soon it will seem natural. I doubt I will ever place a comma before a conjunction again without wondering if Mrs. Hagel is still teaching, what her students are learning about the serial comma, and whether she knows how far her lessons have reached.

One Page Essay

2006-01-20T01:14:00.000-08:00

What I did over Christmas Vacation

I celebrated Christmas with my family. My family includes 1 wife, 3 brothers, 2 sisters-in-law, 2 parents, and 2 nephews. This Christmas was the first time we had all been together. Blake and Kim hosted in Colorado so that the kiddos wouldn’t have to travel. Not everyone could get off for the same days, but we were all there for Christmas. Mom and Dad arrived a few days early with Josh then left 2 days after the 25th. Christa and I arrived on Christmas and stayed until New Year’s. Cody and Tina live in Colorado so they were there the whole time, although now they have their own apartment.

My favorite part was meeting my new nephew Adam and checking up on his big brother Griffin. Experiencing the holiday with kids gave me a fresh perspective. I am by no means a scrooge, but I have seen it all a couple dozen times. Watching my nephews see it for their first couple of times made it new.

Adam is just a few months old so his perspective is a bit limited. I imagine for him the presents and food went mostly unnoticed. I do not, however, think he missed the lights. His big eyes caught every twinkle and color as he was passed from relative to relative. I’d guess his impression of Christmas is never wanting for someone to hold him. Parents, grandparents, uncles, and aunts were all nearby to fill his holiday dance-card. Each dancer with their own rhythm, song, and technique for holding him.

Griffin is 2, so present time was not wasted him. His tiny fingers deftly released each treasure from the colorful paper. Pausing to tryout each new plaything filled the short gaps before another gift was placed in his lap. Each gift brought a new surprise and a new reason to be thankful for a large family that is mostly filled with adults.
This is a position that he takes on with gusto and he rarely moves from the center of attention. Only on occasion will his infectious spirit be overshadowed by an Uncle. I imagine for Griffin Christmas means a big audience. There was always someone to coax into a game of Rescue Rangers, share a cookie with or take a ride on his brand new trike.

It sounds a little cliché, but they reminded me that Christmas is family and getting everyone together makes it a holiday.

BTW, I highly recommend the book I Stink which follows a New York City garbage truck as it saves its citizens from Mount Trash-O-Rama. A fun read and a Griffin Favorite.

Preach On (Love is the Answer)

2006-01-17T01:23:00.000-08:00

I came across this speech by Martin Luther King Jr. when I was researching a previously discussed topic. Many of the words make me shudder.

I am convinced that if we are to get on the right side of the world revolution, we as a nation must undergo a radical revolution of values. We must rapidly begin the shift from a "thing- oriented" society to a "person-oriented" society. When machines and computers, profit motives and property rights are considered more important than people, the giant triplets of racism, materialism, and militarism are incapable of being conquered...

A genuine revolution of values means in the final analysis that our loyalties must become ecumenical rather than sectional. Every nation must now develop an overriding loyalty to mankind as a whole in order to preserve the best in their individual societies.

This call for a world-wide fellowship that lifts neighborly concern beyond one's tribe, race, class and nation is in reality a call for an all-embracing and unconditional love for all men. This oft misunderstood and misinterpreted concept -- so readily dismissed by the Nietzsches of the world as a weak and cowardly force -- has now become an absolute necessity for the survival of man. When I speak of love I am not speaking of some sentimental and weak response. I am speaking of that force which all of the great religions have seen as the supreme unifying principle of life. Love is somehow the key that unlocks the door which leads to ultimate reality. This Hindu-Moslem-Christian-Jewish-Buddhist belief about ultimate reality is beautifully summed up in the first epistle of Saint John:

Let us love one another; for love is God and everyone that loveth is born of God and knoweth God. He that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love. If we love one another God dwelleth in us, and his love is perfected in us. Let us hope that this spirit will become the order of the day.

We can no longer afford to worship the god of hate or bow before the altar of retaliation. The oceans of history are made turbulent by the ever-rising tides of hate.

We are now faced with the fact that tomorrow is today. We are confronted with the fierce urgency of now. In this unfolding conundrum of life and history there is such a thing as being too late. Procrastination is still the thief of time. Life often leaves us standing bare, naked and dejected with a lost opportunity. If we do not act we shall surely be dragged down the long dark and shameful corridors of time reserved for those who possess power without compassion, might without morality, and strength without sight.

Now let us begin. Now let us rededicate ourselves to the long and bitter -- but beautiful -- struggle for a new world. This is the calling of the sons of God, and our brothers wait eagerly for our response. Shall we say the odds are too great? Shall we tell them the struggle is too hard? Will our message be that the forces of American life militate against their arrival as full men, and we send our deepest regrets? Or will there be another message, of longing, of hope, of solidarity with their yearnings, of commitment to their cause, whatever the cost? The choice is ours, and though we might prefer it otherwise we must choose in this crucial moment of human history.

If we will but make the right choice, we will be able to speed up the day, all over America and all over the world, when justice will roll down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream.

He's right, you know. The longer you and I wait to change, the worse things get. People are more important than things. And love is still the answer that will change the world.

Treehouse Memorial -repost

2005-12-09T18:08:00.000-08:00

(I had the security settings for the Flickr images set wrong so the slide show wasn't working. They should be working now.)

I just went and read some of my early posts from when I began building my treehouse. I remember thinking back then that I would mostly use this blog to post updates about the my progress. Little did I know all the events that would get covered here. Looking back it makes me smile to think of all the terrific times I spent in my backyard playing with my tools; sometimes on the ground and other times hanging from a branch. I’ve really enjoyed having grown-up sized resources to follow small-person sized dreams. For me it’s all about doing something that I am passionate about. In my career I haven’t chosen to follow a passion, so in other parts of my life I don’t want to waste any time. I’ve also been joined by a faithful group of supporters and builders. I caught the passion for this treehouse while helping build one for Greg. Since I have started mine, he has been by my side every step of the way. Without his faithful assistance I would probably still be hoisting the main beams. Others have helped too and to each of you I am thankful and look forward to using your help on the rebuild. Here’s some previously unpublished photos that make me smile. Enjoy.

Treehouse

Stepping Back

2005-12-09T03:15:00.000-08:00

The shock of what happened to my treehouse Tuesday night is starting to wear off. I am now able to step back from the tragedy and see the entire project.

From this viewpoint my mistake is very obvious. I turned a blind-eye to the weight rating of the all-thread. Heck, I didn’t even know what the weight rating was. I just assumed that it was sufficient. I knew my cables could each hold 14,000 pounds. I also knew that the crimps on the ends where rated at 30,000 pounds and the eyenuts, turnbuckles, shackles and eyebolts all fell somewhere in between. But the all-thread was a mystery. I’ve since learned it was not sufficient, hah! I’ve found some suppliers that sell all-thread with a rating as high as 300,000 pounds. That is probably a bit excessive, but I will not skimp when it comes to my next design. I’ve also decided to pattern my cables and beams after a cable-stayed bridge and will triple the number of cables I use, thus spreading the weight over more tree attachment points to avoid what happened the other night.

More cables means I won’t want them running through my house and I’ll need to adjust the placement of the walls. In the end I’ll probably have a smaller house due to the narrow distance between my trees.

Don’t know how soon I’ll get to work on all of this, since the weather is a bit crummy right now, but I will keep you posted on my progress for sure.

Tragedy

2005-12-07T00:15:00.000-08:00

Warning: Due to the graphic nature of the following photos, viewer discretion is advised.

It sounded like a tornado in our backyard. When I went to check on it, this is what I found. I called Greg and he came to help clean up. I was a little numb so the pictures aren't all that great. It looks like the all-thread, that was going through the tree and had the eye-nuts and cables attached to it, broke. This sent the southeast corner falling and then the house just slid off. The platform is still in relatively good shape considering one of the cables is no longer holding it. It is hanging, suspended by the other 3 cables and some branches that the east beam came to rest on.

hill_ja to hillj30

2005-12-06T02:23:00.000-08:00

Today was the first day I got my username correct every time it was requested. I didn’t think it would be such a big deal, but I’ve been working at this new job for 13 days and until today I had to use the backspace in combination with my mistyped username at least once a day--sometimes more. I think the problem stems from similarity and frequency. At my last job they used last name plus underscore plus first and middle initial to construct usernames. Mine was hill_ja—it should have been hill_jl, but I was hired as a contractor with little notice and in lieu of a middle initial they just took the first letter that came along. At this job it is your last name followed by the first letter of your first name—should be hillj, but there are lots of people here and I’m not the first hillj to sit at a desk and type so I get hillj30. I don’t know if that makes me the 30th hillj or not, but I tend to think so. hill_ja to hillj30, you can see how I might get goofed up. Plus I have to enter it like 30 times in a day, so I tend to disconnect that task from my brain and just let my fingers type. It has taken 13 days and probably 390 logins to get consistent enough to make it through an entire day. Proving once again the incredible nature of muscle memory.

If you’ve been following my occasional ramblings, you may be wondering what all this ‘new job’ talk is all about. “Hmm, I remember way back in July when Jason quit his job, but when did he get another one? And what does that mean for the treehouse.”

Well, the treehouse is a work in progress and I am watching window caulking on one of my windows dry as I type this post. When it dries, in 2 days, I’ll paint it and then get it in the treehouse, where it will be followed by 4 more, plus a door.

I am currently working a 6 month contract, at Nationwide Insurance in Portland, doing various web related coding tasks. It is not saving the world, but it does pay the mortgage and gives me time to do some other stuff.

As far a logins go here is what I remember:

Nationwide: hillj30
Pacificare: hill_ja
Webridge: jasonh
adidas: hilljas
Oddly, I can’t remember any more than that.

Is it Too Early for Fireworks?

2005-11-28T20:52:00.000-08:00

Josh and I returned to Mt Hood this weekend to ride 13 inches of fresh snow. Wanting to dodge the crowds and enjoy the untracked stuff, we opted once again for the Glade Trail. At the end of our second run some teens were hanging out in a jeep right where the trail meets the road. I answered a few of their questions about the trail and during our exchange, one of them reached out the window and offered me a bottle-rocket. Now, I love fireworks as much as the next guy, but I declined. It makes me chuckle even now. What were they doing with bottle-rockets? And what made them offer one to me? I guess in all my snowboarding gear I don't look like a 34 year-old, volvo-driving, computer nerd, who isn't even carrying a lighter or an empty bottle to enjoy such a toy.

A Tale of Two Americas

2005-11-22T02:41:00.000-08:00

While I agree with my friend Adam that there are more productive activities than watching TV, I confess that I do sometimes bask in the warmth of its glow. That being said, I will dispense with the apologies and continue with a discussion of 2 documentaries I recently watched.

I have close friends who admire Michael Moore, but I had never seen any of his work. While this would sometimes leave me on the outside of their conversations, I couldn’t bring myself to pay for any of his showings. A few weeks ago Bravo aired Bowling for Columbine and I caught it on Tivo. Now, I’ll admit that I am a bit to the right of MMoore’s views and that may have motivated me to avoid his work in the past. But, I try to approach issues with an open mind. I will often find my self listening to progressive talk radio just as often as I hear the conservative stuff. I am in favor of less government, but I don’t think the way we do healthcare in this country is working. I am a registered Independent who takes an honest look at each issue and tries to avoid making decisions or judgments just because it is the party line.

So, with remote in hand, an open mind and my faithful companion at my side, I watched; and I was entertained. He had me from the opening scene where he gets a free gun at a bank for opening a CD to the end where he pesters Charlton Hesston into an interview and challenges him to justify gun-ownership. Bowling had it all: interviews, cartoons, surveillance footage of the Columbine tragedy and wacky gun-toten militia-men in Minnesota.

Did you know that the creators of South Park are from Littleton, and went to Columbine? They provided a funny little cartoon titled A brief History of America that, although humorous, drives home Michael’s point—we white people are living scared and we have the guns to prove it. According to the film that is what drove the murders at Columbine—I think. It was a bit hard to follow his arguments, mostly because he makes so many. Was it the militia in Minnesota? He spent more than a few frames talking with Timothy McVeigh’s brother; perhaps that was what inspired them?

Could it be because the world’s largest weapons manufacturer is in Littleton? Moore actually asked a Lockheed Martin executive:

"So you don't think our kids say to themselves, 'Gee, you know, Dad goes off to the factory every day and, you know, he builds missiles. These are weapons of mass destruction.' What's the difference between that mass destruction and the mass destruction over at Columbine High School?'"

And Moore wasn’t kidding; the polite executive just stood there for a minute and replied,

“I guess I don't see that connection.”

Moore interviews Marilyn Manson so we know the cause wasn’t the music.

Soon the movie begins to build to a climax when the possibility that gun violence in the U.S. is triggered by the number of guns Americans own is explored. It is just so easy to get a gun and since everyone has one, that must be why we lead the world in gun crimes; and it probably explains Columbine. However, Moore points out that Canada has even more guns than we do, yet they only have a fraction of our number of gun homicides. So the problem can’t be the guns. I really didn’t see that coming. Up to this point in the film I thought Moore had been leading me down the need-for-gun-control path. But here he is saying it’s not the number of guns we have—just look at Canada. So what is different about Canada? According to Bowling for Columbine, Canadians don’t live in fear. They leave their doors unlocked, they have great healthcare and their news is ‘nice’. Much different than the U.S. where we live in fear which is perpetrated by the evil media.

I don’t necessarily buy all of this, but it seems to be leading somewhere and I certainly can’t turn it off. Now comes the kicker, Moore is wrapping up and he has one last punch to throw. Given his last line of reasoning, I expect him to go bother some media exec. They are, after all, responsible for instilling all of the fear that makes us shoot each other. But, instead, Moore uses his final scene to interview Charlton Hesston and question him about gun ownership. This seems misplaced to me since he just convinced me that the number of guns isn’t our problem. Oh well, the credits roll and I don’t feel cheated, just a little confused.

(You don’t have to spend much time on the ‘net to find a lot of talk about Bowling for Columbine. It spurred a lot of interest and there are many people who claim it is filled with lies. There are also plenty of people, Moore included, who stand by this work as truth. I’ve tried not to comment on this debate. I figure if that interests you, you can go decide for yourself. What I was impressed by was its ability to entertain, where I felt it lacked was in the failure to complete its argument.)

Another underlying theme in Bowling for Columbine is the horrible state most things are in. The media is bad, wages are low, healthcare is failing, we have too much violence, too much fear and things are not getting better. Even the places where you’d expect goodness, like a suburban public school, are torn down in this film. Moore’s interview with South Park co-creator Matt Stone ends with a rant about schools messing up kids:

“… the teachers and counselors and principals don't help things. They scare you into conforming and doing good in school by saying: ‘If you're a loser now, you're gonna be a loser forever.’ They just beat it in your head as early as sixth grade: ‘Don't *&%@ up. 'Cause if you do, you're gonna die poor and lonely.’”

So, wow, the schools are bad. That kind of put me in a funk...

Until the other night when Christa brought home a documentary titled Paper Clips. Paper Clips is a documentary that spends its time asserting that there are good things going on in the world, especially in Whitwell, TN. When the story begins we meet the Whitwell Middle School principle and she tells us that she has decided to do something about a problem at her school. You see, everyone in her community is the same. They are all white except for 5 black students and one Hispanic. They are all protestant. And for the most part the students, in this small town of 1600 people, do not have contact with people who are different from themselves.

Her solution was to start a special program focusing on the Holocaust. Under the direction of teacher Sandra Roberts and Assistant Principle David Smith, students were introduced to the atrocities carried out by Hitler. At one point early in the teaching they were discussing the number of Jews that were killed and one student asked, “How many is six million? I’ve never seen that.” From his question the journey begins and their goal of collecting 6 million paper clips is born. They learned that during World War II paper clips were sometimes worn on lapels as a sign of resistance to the Nazis so they wrote letters asking for donations of paper clips.

The documentary traces their collection process, which starts slow at first, but picks up momentum after an article by the Washington Post and a segment on the NBC Nightly news. Each step of the journey is captured in this film and I could sense the changes the students and teachers were experiencing as their world began to grow. You see, each shipment of paper clips that came to their tiny school was accompanied by a letter which usually told the story of a Holocaust victim or survivor. Then they were visited by a group of survivors from New York who shared their stories at a town meeting. Students who had only read about Jews and the horrible suffering they endured were now sitting across the table from people who were actual concentration camp survivors. It was touching to see the people of Whitwell soften as they heard the survivor’s stories.

When the Whitwell students reached and then surpassed their paper clip goal, they built a memorial to house them. Now they conduct educational tours for other students who come to visit them on field trips. It was amazing to see them not only learning about tolerance, but also teaching it. I couldn’t help but wonder what Michael Moore would have to say about this town. They are the very people he mocked in his History of America cartoon—Whitwell is only 116 miles from the birthplace of the Klan, they are mostly white and I am sure that they are armed.

At one point, the Assistant Principle tells us about the change this project has made in his life. He explains the prejudice that was passed down to him from his father, a Klan member, and the struggle that has caused him. He confesses that he has changed and plans to pass on a different model to his sons. When the film finished I was inspired with hope and motivated to pursue change in my own world.

Turns

2005-11-14T01:55:00.000-08:00

OK, this picture was taken back in 03, but I rode this trail just yesterday. My friend Adam L. needed one last trip to the mountain before heading off on an extended African adventure and far be it from me to miss a chance to carve some turns. Our original plan was to climb up the snowfield above Timberline Lodge. When we arrived at the lodge, the conditions made visibility an issue that neither of us wanted to challenge. So, we opted for the Glade Trail that runs from Timberline to Govy. Aside from one set of cross-country tracks we had the snow to ourselves. At the end of the ride we hitched back up to Timberline and did it again. It gave up some sweet turns and I was reintroduced to that weightless, floating feeling that I have only felt while strapped to my board. I'm looking forward to many more powder turns this season, let's hope the snow is here to stay.

That Time of Year

2005-11-01T00:14:00.000-08:00

I love Christmas music. It is one of my favorite things about Christmas. I grew up singing it in school choirs and have since developed a passion for it. To keep my passion in check, I've had to adopt two rules. We only listen to it from Halloween to Christmas and the first album played is always: An Evening in December by First Call.

I first heard this album in the winter of 1989, when my roommate Chris Smith played it for me on cassette. We also had a copy in the Music Haus on vinyl. I got my own copy when I found it on cd in a bargain bin at a music store in the mall a few years later and I still have it. It has spot on the first track where it always hangs, but that hasn't kept it from the top of my Christmas list since I bought it 10 years ago.

The arranging and creativity on this recording are timeless. It is a cappella, so the vocal talents of First Call shine through on every track. It weaves through the season with updates of classic hymns and fresh covers of contemporary songs. I'm partial to One Small Child for the simplicity with which David Meece nails the melody and the message annoucing the King.

One king bringing his gold and his riches
One king ruling an army of might
One king kneeling with incense and candlelight
One King bringing us life

Also, don't miss the 5/4 meter found in O Come, O Come Emmanuel--genius.

It is still available at Amazon and I've also seen it on Rhapsody.

The Eve

2005-10-30T19:31:00.000-08:00

On the eve of an important holiday, I pause to offer this:

Don't forget the candy.

I'm not sure why, but my family observed Halloween. This is unusual because of all the holidays that are inflicted upon us by the consumer-driven society that we live in; my parents were pretty level-headed. Sure, we'd have a nice meal on Thanksgiving and exchanged gifts, (which never came from Santa), on Christmas; but outside of that, Halloween was it. I can only remember one Easter basket--which I only got because my folks were out of town and I was staying with a friend (my Mom's contribution to the booty was a toothbrush). We didn’t hang hearts in February or shamrocks in March. There were no trips to the cemetery on Memorial Day and I know for a fact that I did yard work on Labor Day. We never had a flag to fly on Flag Day, I don’t think we ever celebrated Arbor day with a young sapling and the only thing different on a 4th of July bar-be-que from any other was my brother and I got to blow stuff up (cool holiday, btw).

So why do I remember on multiple occasions our house being decorated with tombstones while costume-clad revelers bobbed for apples and played pin-the-nose-on-the-jack-o-lantern? If a Christian family is going to skip a holiday, why wouldn’t be the one invented by the devil himself? I can only offer an answer by way of my annual fascination for the individually-wrapped bits-of-goodness that for some reason I cannot resist.

Most of the year I am candy-immune—it just doesn’t call to me. However, when the harvest season comes I am lured by those little, colorful sirens to partake of delights I would never consider. Mr. Goodbar? Sure. Take 5? Never had it, give me 2. Mix in some old favorites like M&Ms and Sweet Tarts and I’ll tell you why we celebrated Halloween—Candy.

Free candy too, put on a costume and walk the streets and people just give it to you. When I got too old, I’d dress up my younger brothers and take them trick-or-treating. Then, as compensation for my service, I’d garnish a percentage of their loot. A trick I’m sure I learned from my Mom. Who, in her wisdom overlooked much of the don’t-let-your-kids-out-on-Halloween-they’ll-be-sacrificing-cats talk, and let us have candy.

So for the record I will reiterate:

Don't forget the candy.

The average consumer celebrating Halloween will spend $48.48 on merchandise, up from $43.57 last year.

Candy remains a holiday staple and the largest spending category at $1.16 billion. The average person plans to spend $18.07 on sweets and 94.6 percent of consumers planning to purchase in that category.

Halloween maintains its spot as one of the biggest decorating holidays of the year, second only to Christmas. 59.8 percent of consumers plan to purchase decorations and 47 percent expect to decorate their home or yard. Consumers will spend approximately $840 million on decorations.

Halloween remains the sixth-largest spending holiday after: Winter Holidays ($435.3 billion estimated), Valentine's Day ($13.19 billion), Easter ($9.6 billion), Mother's Day ($11.43 billion), and Father's Day ($8.23 billion). Because it is not a gift-giving holiday or an apparel holiday, it ranks lower than other annual holidays in terms of spending.

Costumes are the second largest spending category behind candy. Consumers will spend approximately $1.15 billion on costumes, with 53.3 percent of consumers planning to buy a costume for Halloween. The average consumer will spend $31.88 on Halloween costume purchases.

3.78 million children plan to dress up as a princess on Halloween, making it the most popular Halloween costume for kids this year.

Source: National Retail Federation 2005 Halloween Consumer Intentions and Actions Survey

Peering From the Foxhole

2005-10-27T12:24:00.000-07:00

I’ve been working on a big photo project for a friend the past few days and it seems like old times. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to watch the sun go down and then come back up all from the same seat. Not fun, but every now and then you have to pick up a weapon and stand a post, I just happened to draw the night watch.

Son, we live in a world that has walls. And those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Lt. Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago and you curse the marines. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: That Santiago's death, while tragic, probably saved lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives.
(beat)
You don't want the truth. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall. You need me on that wall.
(boasting)
We use words like honor, code, loyalty...we use these words as the backbone to a life spent defending something. You use 'em as a punch line.
(beat)
I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom I provide, then questions the manner in which I provide it. I'd prefer you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon and stand a post.

Fortunately for me I’m just in the National Guard and I don’t have to do this for a living. However, I am pleased with the results and my friend is as well.

Photo with Johno

2005-10-21T20:57:00.000-07:00

My friend Johno is in town for NYMS at Cascade and he had a little time to kill in between lectures, so we drove over to the Japanese Gardens to burn some film. (Which more accurately should be clichéd: capture some pixels on flash memory, but I don't like the way that sounds.) The gardens are beautiful and today were exceptionally gorgeous with clear skies and temps in the upper 60s. I only wish we could have stayed for longer. Here's another shot I liked.

Biscuits

2005-10-19T13:43:00.000-07:00

I've been home quite a bit lately so I've been getting a few household chores done like laundry and dishes, but I am lacking in the go-grocery-shopping task. So, we are out of food. It is so bad that for a late breakfast my wife had low-fat, microwave popcorn. You’d think, “why not a bowl of cereal?” But, silly husband has not gone to the store to pick up milk and Capt’n Crunch does not taste right with water.
So after I went for a run with the dog, I was thinking to myself, what can I possibly eat that won’t mean a trip to the store. I’m too hungry to skip the meal altogether, so I must do something… Well, we have no bread, maybe I can bake some?—too long to wait. We might have Bisquick? Yeah, but only reduced fat, ~sigh~ that’s ok, I’ll just kill it with I Can’t Believe Its Not Butter.
I grab the Bisquick box and check out the biscuit recipe: all I need is Bisquick and milk? I wonder to myself if it would taste ok if I made it with water? Probably. Then I think, wait a minute! I’ve got powdered milk from my last back packing adventure and biscuits won’t care if I use powdered milk like the Capt’n would.
So I heat the oven, mix it up and cut the biscuits. I place them neatly on the Pampered Chef stone and wait for the magic. Not 7 minutes later I was looking at what can only be described as an oasis of nutrition in a desert of empty cupboards.
And let me tell you, standing in my wet-from-rain-mist, running shorts in the warmth of the residual heat of the oven I did not even reach for a plate. I put a knife in one hand and chunked generous dollops of I Can’t Believe Its Not Butter on the biscuits that my other hand was rhythmically feeding my mouth. I only slowed down on the third biscuit when I remembered we might still have some raspberry jam, which we did.
Exhibiting a small amount of discipline, I stopped after 3. I’ll save the rest for lunch. I’ll let you write your own moral to this story, but rest assured we are a blessed people and I am reminded of it daily.

Brothers

2005-10-17T11:04:00.000-07:00

I have very few childhood memories that do not include my brother Blake. Blake was born when I was 12 days short of 2 years old. I don’t remember him being born, but I can tell you of countless adventures that we shared. I often marvel at the wisdom of my parents placing us so close together. Without Blake around I wouldn’t have had a constant playmate to laugh with, make up games with and learn to deal with shared living spaces with. I’m not sure how people without close siblings get by and I am glad to see that Griffin will not face the challenges of childhood alone. His new brother Adam will bring him numerous laughs, games and shared living spaces challenges.

I can only guess that Blake feels the same way, although I am sure his perspective is a bit different. I am confident that he and Kim will give Griffin and Adam the boundaries and freedoms that they will need to grow up as great friends. Nice job Blake, give that new kid a squeeze from uncle J.