Thanks to gas prices and general poorness, my friends and I decided to take a Staycation. In case you’ve been living in a cave for the whole summer, this is where you take a vacation, but don’t go anywhere. It sounds boring, but I’ve been really, really excited about it. We’re going to do fun tourist-y things in our own town.
I won’t give you a whole run-down of events, because you’ll get to see pics of them in the coming days…but just know, I’m having a lot of fun and I’m not at work. That’s all you need to know.
Just FYI – The ‘Staycation’ begins at 7:30 TONIGHT with a showing of The Greatest Movie Musical of All Time, starring the Best Movie Musical Star of All Time (aka: Singin’ in the Rain, starring Gene Kelly) at the Palace. And, really, what better way is there to kick off a week of fun?
There are just a few blog-type-things I wanted to get off my plate before all this new blogilicious material is presented to me:
The Dark Knight
I actually saw this several days ago… but totally worth bringing up again. People, this is a GREAT movie. Visually stimulating and also ABOUT something bigger than just the plot. Don’t get me wrong, movies that are just about plot are fine in some cases. But it’s a perfect storm when the two can be combined.
If you liked Batman Begins, you will LOVE The Dark Knight. It has really great themes that you will get, but don’t smack you in the face like a fairy tale.
Also, I will take this moment to say that I think Christian Bale is the best Batman ever. But he will always… ALWAYS be the guy in Newsies to me.
Never heard of Newsies? Not many people have. It happened to be Disney’s shot at resurrecting the genre of musical when I was much younger. I L-O-V-E-D it when it came out, and OWN the soundtrack (on cassette, of course). Also, he’s super-cute (and like 16, in it) and there’s singing and dancing. Yes, Christian Bale is singing and dancing.
So for the first five minutes or so of these movies, I’m always thinking ‘wow, that orphan kid really did well for himself… he’s like, RICH. And crazy-brave!’ then I remember he’s Batman and we’re good after that.
Do you think I’m 2? Or 200?
A certain giant motor company that made a certain giant announcement last week and has more than one factory in Louisville held a giant conference call to make this ‘certain’ announcement. You don’t need any of those details to get this story.
I had to register as a member of the news media to get into the password-protected part of their website that gave the number and passcode to get into the conference call. (even though I called and reached a PERSON, they still wouldn’t give me the information) So I registered. Then once I had signed in, I still couldn’t get the information. So I called again.
Chickie: yeah, the information is on there
Me: well, I don’t see it anywhere
Chickie: it’s right under the billboard… it says ‘Second Quarter Announcement…’
Me: no… what I see is ‘Jumbo-tron wins Hardee’s Formula 500’
Chickie: Oh! Well, then you aren’t signed in… if you look at the top-left corner of the page, you see those white rectangle-looking boxes with cursors? That’s where you type in your USER NAME… then you type your PASSWORD in the second one…
Me: ye-ah…. I know how to sign in to things… I’m signed in.
Chickie: (heavy, annoyed sigh…) no, you aren’t. (in her best teaching-a-three-year-old-something voice) Do you SEE the white-rectangle-boxes?
Me: NO. I see a link I can click on that says SIGN OUT.
Chickie: Oh….
Me: :: eyeballs cramp up from rolling them so much ::
Stay tuned for Staycation updates!!!!
Standby...
.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Growin' up is hard to do...
There is nothing that makes you feel like you’re growing up and losing your childhood quite like watching other generations fade away.
(Right now, all of you are retreating to ‘that’ place, where you know exactly what I’m talking about and want to stay in that moment and maybe cry a little… I’m asking you to back away from that moment for just a minute, and consider the rest of what I’m about to say. Don’t worry. That place will still be there when I’m done. And you’ll know exactly how to get back to it because you’ve been there hundreds of times.)
As I’m watching one of my very close friends go through this, and am praying for her and her family, I’m getting the chance to relive some of my own experiences on a much less-dramatic scale and think them over again without the heightened grief.
Obviously, the loss of someone you love is devastating in its own right. I don’t need to outline that here. What I’m observing now and recollecting from my experiences is that terrifying realization that someday you’re going to be in charge. You won’t have those people to lean on, to guide you, to be that soft-cushy place that will always be the safety of childhood a world that was far less complicated. It won’t happen all at once (hopefully), but it will probably happen at some point.
This is one of those things I imagine all of us will grapple with for, say, all of our lives. Give or take a few years.
I’m always reminded at times like these of how great our Father is. He created these amazing human relationships. Deeper than we can explain, stronger than friendships or other relationships.
FAMILY. Nothing else can explain it. Which reminds me that only a loving and wise Father like ours could have invented it. Sure, it hurts when they leave. But doesn’t it hurt so much because you loved them so strongly, because they were a part of the fabric of experience that makes you who you are?
And if you had to choose between a life without this sort of sadness, but no real human connections and what we have now… all of us would choose what we have now. All of us.
Now think of it this way: We are made that way (to love our family so deeply we can’t even understand it) because we are made in the image of God. We’re like Him. He loves us as much as we love our family members. Times 100 BILLION.
He loves us so much we can’t even wrap our heads around it. TIMES 100 BILLION.
So now you can choose to go back to that place, the one I was talking about earlier. Or you can go to a place where you drop what you’re doing and say a little prayer of rejoicing to our Father, for making us this way, for blessing us with amazing relationship during our time on earth and for loving us THAT much, even though we don’t deserve it.
Standby…
.
(Right now, all of you are retreating to ‘that’ place, where you know exactly what I’m talking about and want to stay in that moment and maybe cry a little… I’m asking you to back away from that moment for just a minute, and consider the rest of what I’m about to say. Don’t worry. That place will still be there when I’m done. And you’ll know exactly how to get back to it because you’ve been there hundreds of times.)
As I’m watching one of my very close friends go through this, and am praying for her and her family, I’m getting the chance to relive some of my own experiences on a much less-dramatic scale and think them over again without the heightened grief.
Obviously, the loss of someone you love is devastating in its own right. I don’t need to outline that here. What I’m observing now and recollecting from my experiences is that terrifying realization that someday you’re going to be in charge. You won’t have those people to lean on, to guide you, to be that soft-cushy place that will always be the safety of childhood a world that was far less complicated. It won’t happen all at once (hopefully), but it will probably happen at some point.
This is one of those things I imagine all of us will grapple with for, say, all of our lives. Give or take a few years.
I’m always reminded at times like these of how great our Father is. He created these amazing human relationships. Deeper than we can explain, stronger than friendships or other relationships.
FAMILY. Nothing else can explain it. Which reminds me that only a loving and wise Father like ours could have invented it. Sure, it hurts when they leave. But doesn’t it hurt so much because you loved them so strongly, because they were a part of the fabric of experience that makes you who you are?
And if you had to choose between a life without this sort of sadness, but no real human connections and what we have now… all of us would choose what we have now. All of us.
Now think of it this way: We are made that way (to love our family so deeply we can’t even understand it) because we are made in the image of God. We’re like Him. He loves us as much as we love our family members. Times 100 BILLION.
He loves us so much we can’t even wrap our heads around it. TIMES 100 BILLION.
So now you can choose to go back to that place, the one I was talking about earlier. Or you can go to a place where you drop what you’re doing and say a little prayer of rejoicing to our Father, for making us this way, for blessing us with amazing relationship during our time on earth and for loving us THAT much, even though we don’t deserve it.
Standby…
.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Foxtrot Papa Lima
So… I learned this whole alpha-phonetic alphabet when mom and dad were learning how to be ham radio operators. Mostly because I thought it was cool. Sierra Tango Echo Papa Hotel. That’s my name. Pretty cool, huh?
Anyway, I was talking to some genius (who was actually not very smart) who used to work for NASA on the phone the other day and trying to get my radio stations call letters through his noggin… usually with people in Louisville I say, “FPL, like Free Public Library” because they get that… but with this guy, I couldn’t use that, so I hesitated, and he said “whiskey…” and then I finished “foxtrot papa lima”. He seemed impressed. I liked it because I had forgotten I could do that.
See, dad? I’m paying attention.
Bouncy kitty
Um, every time I put a kitty update on here, letting you guys know she isn’t doing so well, she bounces back. This must be what people are talking about with the nine lives of cats. That, or she’s secretly reading my blog while I’m at work, and she wants to prove me wrong.
So the last couple of days she’s been eating, and looking all bright-eyed and snuggly… so I don’t know what her deal is. She’s a Cat of Mystery.
This just in: chivalry isn’t dead
Standby…
.
Anyway, I was talking to some genius (who was actually not very smart) who used to work for NASA on the phone the other day and trying to get my radio stations call letters through his noggin… usually with people in Louisville I say, “FPL, like Free Public Library” because they get that… but with this guy, I couldn’t use that, so I hesitated, and he said “whiskey…” and then I finished “foxtrot papa lima”. He seemed impressed. I liked it because I had forgotten I could do that.
See, dad? I’m paying attention.
Bouncy kitty
Um, every time I put a kitty update on here, letting you guys know she isn’t doing so well, she bounces back. This must be what people are talking about with the nine lives of cats. That, or she’s secretly reading my blog while I’m at work, and she wants to prove me wrong.
So the last couple of days she’s been eating, and looking all bright-eyed and snuggly… so I don’t know what her deal is. She’s a Cat of Mystery.
This just in: chivalry isn’t dead
Standby…
.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Frank and Gene will always have my heart...
This past Saturday was supremely better than the previous Saturday for many, many reasons.
- There was no heat stroke. (this is good for obvious reasons)
- I spent the whole day with Vivian. Have I mentioned what a great roommate she is, lately?
- We went out to eat at Mojito. This is the Spanish tapas (no… not topless, you pervs) restaurant we ate at last year for my birthday. SO good.
- Mostly it was great because of Frank and Gene.
We went (along with the lovely Ann) to see On the Town and An American in Paris at the Palace Theatre. I’ve seen both of these movies before… actually, I OWN On the Town. I can tell you a few things that will let you know how awesome it was to see it on a big screen.
Frank Sinatra.
Gene Kelly.
Navy uniforms.
Singing.
Dancing.
Navy uniforms.
New York City.
Navy uniforms.
Also, this song, which has new meaning to 25-year-old Stephanie than it did to 13-year-old Stephanie…
MAIN STREET
Gene Kelly
There's not much to tell about my hometown
Life is easy and the tempo's slow
But if you really want to find what's in it
You'll learn in a minute all you have to know. Lets go....
Come walkin' with me I want you to see our main street
You'll see the whole town By just walkin down our main street
There's the corner where the boys hang out
As each girl goes by they rate her whistle and try to date her "later"
Baby, are you going steady?
And then we can stop and chat with a cop on Main Street
He made an arrest a way back in nineteen three
He'll ask me ‘who is the pretty stranger?’,
How proud I'm going to be when you walk down Main Street with me.
The choreography is darling! Whoever I marry is going to learn how to do that slick hand-holding, to arm-in-arm walking move. Mark my words. Someone is learning that.
Another thing I noticed for the first time… as I watched two Gene Kelly movies in a row and practically know a third (Singin’ in the Rain) by heart… I have found there is NO ONE who can exemplify that first moment of relationship success like Gene Kelly. That moment when he first gets a girl to agree to go on a date with him… or he gets that first kiss in the doorway of her house and it’s raining cats and dogs outside. You know what I’m talking about.
Henceforth, we’ll call that a ‘Gene Kelly Moment’.
Write it down.
My brain’s running in about 50 different directions right now, so that’s all I can squeeze out for the blog at the moment… but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can..
Standby…
- There was no heat stroke. (this is good for obvious reasons)
- I spent the whole day with Vivian. Have I mentioned what a great roommate she is, lately?
- We went out to eat at Mojito. This is the Spanish tapas (no… not topless, you pervs) restaurant we ate at last year for my birthday. SO good.
- Mostly it was great because of Frank and Gene.
We went (along with the lovely Ann) to see On the Town and An American in Paris at the Palace Theatre. I’ve seen both of these movies before… actually, I OWN On the Town. I can tell you a few things that will let you know how awesome it was to see it on a big screen.
Frank Sinatra.
Gene Kelly.
Navy uniforms.
Singing.
Dancing.
Navy uniforms.
New York City.
Navy uniforms.
Also, this song, which has new meaning to 25-year-old Stephanie than it did to 13-year-old Stephanie…
MAIN STREET
Gene Kelly
There's not much to tell about my hometown
Life is easy and the tempo's slow
But if you really want to find what's in it
You'll learn in a minute all you have to know. Lets go....
Come walkin' with me I want you to see our main street
You'll see the whole town By just walkin down our main street
There's the corner where the boys hang out
As each girl goes by they rate her whistle and try to date her "later"
Baby, are you going steady?
And then we can stop and chat with a cop on Main Street
He made an arrest a way back in nineteen three
He'll ask me ‘who is the pretty stranger?’,
How proud I'm going to be when you walk down Main Street with me.
The choreography is darling! Whoever I marry is going to learn how to do that slick hand-holding, to arm-in-arm walking move. Mark my words. Someone is learning that.
Another thing I noticed for the first time… as I watched two Gene Kelly movies in a row and practically know a third (Singin’ in the Rain) by heart… I have found there is NO ONE who can exemplify that first moment of relationship success like Gene Kelly. That moment when he first gets a girl to agree to go on a date with him… or he gets that first kiss in the doorway of her house and it’s raining cats and dogs outside. You know what I’m talking about.
Henceforth, we’ll call that a ‘Gene Kelly Moment’.
Write it down.
My brain’s running in about 50 different directions right now, so that’s all I can squeeze out for the blog at the moment… but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can..
Standby…
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Using it for Good instead of Evil
How awesome is this:
There’s a company in Louisville that is developing a new type of HPV vaccine (I could tell you a little right here about how it’s going to be different than Gardasil, but I won’t, it’s kind of boring). Here’s the not-boring part… they are growing the stuff that makes the vaccine awesome INSIDE tobacco plants.
(sound of amazement)
Not only that, they are TRICKING the tobacco plants into thinking they’re growing their own kind of protein, when they’re REALLY growing the good kind that attacks HPV.
AWESOME SMART-CANCER-DOCTORS TRICKERY!!
Really, people, this is good stuff.
Good. Trickery. Irony. Karma. Love it.
Take that, tobacco!!
You really love me!
Thanks for all your concern for my well-being after the heat stroke, ya’ll. My body is still a little freaked out (read: gets really tired and wants to go to sleep around 3pm)… but I’ve been taking multi-vitamins and snacking on vitamin-filled yummies and that seems to be working.
Also, the skin on the back of my neck seems to have a problem with the fact that a cold pack was placed DIRECTLY ON IT for more than an hour. I don’t know WHY. I mean, it’s not like the cold pack SAYS ‘don’t put this directly on your skin’ on it.
Oh… wait…
Sigh…. Again, I plead ‘my brain wasn’t running on all cylinders’.
Kitty update
Clara seems to be exiting her I-love-lunchmeat phase and entering her I-don’t-want-to-eat-anything phase. So… she’s getting a little rickety… and bony… and weak. I’m just putting that out there… not really anything else to say.
Standby….
.
There’s a company in Louisville that is developing a new type of HPV vaccine (I could tell you a little right here about how it’s going to be different than Gardasil, but I won’t, it’s kind of boring). Here’s the not-boring part… they are growing the stuff that makes the vaccine awesome INSIDE tobacco plants.
(sound of amazement)
Not only that, they are TRICKING the tobacco plants into thinking they’re growing their own kind of protein, when they’re REALLY growing the good kind that attacks HPV.
AWESOME SMART-CANCER-DOCTORS TRICKERY!!
Really, people, this is good stuff.
Good. Trickery. Irony. Karma. Love it.
Take that, tobacco!!
You really love me!
Thanks for all your concern for my well-being after the heat stroke, ya’ll. My body is still a little freaked out (read: gets really tired and wants to go to sleep around 3pm)… but I’ve been taking multi-vitamins and snacking on vitamin-filled yummies and that seems to be working.
Also, the skin on the back of my neck seems to have a problem with the fact that a cold pack was placed DIRECTLY ON IT for more than an hour. I don’t know WHY. I mean, it’s not like the cold pack SAYS ‘don’t put this directly on your skin’ on it.
Oh… wait…
Sigh…. Again, I plead ‘my brain wasn’t running on all cylinders’.
Kitty update
Clara seems to be exiting her I-love-lunchmeat phase and entering her I-don’t-want-to-eat-anything phase. So… she’s getting a little rickety… and bony… and weak. I’m just putting that out there… not really anything else to say.
Standby….
.
Monday, July 21, 2008
The One Where Steph Gets Heat Stroke
Two things I learned this weekend:
When your body stops responding to what you want it to do, that’s not good.
And
Electrolytes are super-important.
I just want to begin this story by saying I was doing everything a person is supposed to do to NOT get heat stroke. Wear light clothing. Take frequent water breaks and drink lots of water. Hair up. Lots of sunscreen. (okay, that one isn’t really related to heat stroke, but, health, in general).
Anyway, I was doing a Habitat for Humanity project Saturday with the three most awesome girls in Louisville (Viv, Ann and Crystal). And it was about 95 degree outside. We worked for a few hours (landscaping stuff), took a break, and had just gone back out to do another house’s yard when I started getting a headache. But it was the same headache I used to get at band practice or tennis practice or whatever… and you just deal with it. But a few minutes later, nausea joined the headache. So I stopped working and stood for a minute in the shade… drank some more water… didn’t help. Then I felt faint, so I sat down, still in the shade, still drinking water. Then my hands went numb. Feet went numb. Lips were tingly. Someone (vivie?) asks me if I’m okay and I try to answer… tongue is either numb or swollen, I can’t really tell which, but I can’t talk.
The rest of the ordeal is a haze of confusion, vomiting, and pain. Some if it spent in a truck with the A/C blasting… then cold packs that made me feel worse at first… then trying to walk… then numb hands cramping into ‘the claw’ and not being able to move them on their own… then laying in a comfy chair in the A/C with a fan blowing on me and drinking more water and falling asleep.
In hindsight, I should have gone to the hospital. But, as it states in several online medical websites, one of the symptoms of heat stroke is not being able to make the right decisions because your brain is all hazy. So I blame it on that. I will admit it was pretty scary for awhile.
But, I’m all better now, I drank lots and lots of Gatorade that evening because I learned that you have to have these things called electrolytes in your body to function. Honestly, I didn’t know that. I mean, I thought they were sort of ‘perks’. It’s ‘good’ if you have them. Not, it’s ‘essential’ to body function. So basically, drinking all that water flushed out all my electrolytes… and I was doing pretty hard work out in the sun in the hot part of the afternoon when it was 95 degrees outside.
I’m telling you this so it doesn’t happen to you, folks. Drink your electrolytes. If your hands and feet go numb, go to the hospital.
And one more thing about this… I’m a pretty healthy girl who got heat stroke while wearing shorts and a tank top and doing some heavy yard work. We have soldiers overseas who are doing 12-hour patrols in the desert while wearing combat uniforms. I know you all already know that. But I respect them even more than I already did (which was A LOT) now that I’ve been through this.
Okay, enough of that.
Don’t tell me the lights are brighter anywhere but there
On a less nauseating note, the weekend did have a little goodness to it. The Palace Theatre in Louisville (for you central Kentuckians, think ‘Kentucky Theatre’ times ten) is showing MGM musicals on Fridays and Saturdays through August. We went to see Meet me in St. Louis Friday night. It was awesome.
Perfect gear up to the most perfect musical of all time (Singin’ in the Rain), which is showing a week from Friday.
Standby…
.
When your body stops responding to what you want it to do, that’s not good.
And
Electrolytes are super-important.
I just want to begin this story by saying I was doing everything a person is supposed to do to NOT get heat stroke. Wear light clothing. Take frequent water breaks and drink lots of water. Hair up. Lots of sunscreen. (okay, that one isn’t really related to heat stroke, but, health, in general).
Anyway, I was doing a Habitat for Humanity project Saturday with the three most awesome girls in Louisville (Viv, Ann and Crystal). And it was about 95 degree outside. We worked for a few hours (landscaping stuff), took a break, and had just gone back out to do another house’s yard when I started getting a headache. But it was the same headache I used to get at band practice or tennis practice or whatever… and you just deal with it. But a few minutes later, nausea joined the headache. So I stopped working and stood for a minute in the shade… drank some more water… didn’t help. Then I felt faint, so I sat down, still in the shade, still drinking water. Then my hands went numb. Feet went numb. Lips were tingly. Someone (vivie?) asks me if I’m okay and I try to answer… tongue is either numb or swollen, I can’t really tell which, but I can’t talk.
The rest of the ordeal is a haze of confusion, vomiting, and pain. Some if it spent in a truck with the A/C blasting… then cold packs that made me feel worse at first… then trying to walk… then numb hands cramping into ‘the claw’ and not being able to move them on their own… then laying in a comfy chair in the A/C with a fan blowing on me and drinking more water and falling asleep.
In hindsight, I should have gone to the hospital. But, as it states in several online medical websites, one of the symptoms of heat stroke is not being able to make the right decisions because your brain is all hazy. So I blame it on that. I will admit it was pretty scary for awhile.
But, I’m all better now, I drank lots and lots of Gatorade that evening because I learned that you have to have these things called electrolytes in your body to function. Honestly, I didn’t know that. I mean, I thought they were sort of ‘perks’. It’s ‘good’ if you have them. Not, it’s ‘essential’ to body function. So basically, drinking all that water flushed out all my electrolytes… and I was doing pretty hard work out in the sun in the hot part of the afternoon when it was 95 degrees outside.
I’m telling you this so it doesn’t happen to you, folks. Drink your electrolytes. If your hands and feet go numb, go to the hospital.
And one more thing about this… I’m a pretty healthy girl who got heat stroke while wearing shorts and a tank top and doing some heavy yard work. We have soldiers overseas who are doing 12-hour patrols in the desert while wearing combat uniforms. I know you all already know that. But I respect them even more than I already did (which was A LOT) now that I’ve been through this.
Okay, enough of that.
Don’t tell me the lights are brighter anywhere but there
On a less nauseating note, the weekend did have a little goodness to it. The Palace Theatre in Louisville (for you central Kentuckians, think ‘Kentucky Theatre’ times ten) is showing MGM musicals on Fridays and Saturdays through August. We went to see Meet me in St. Louis Friday night. It was awesome.
Perfect gear up to the most perfect musical of all time (Singin’ in the Rain), which is showing a week from Friday.
Standby…
.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Steph's Day in Drug Court
I went to drug court yesterday.
GASP!
Obviously, for a story I’m working on.
For those who aren’t familiar, drug court IS court, but it’s a very specialized court that puts drug offenders (non-violent ones) into a very intense 18-month treatment program to get them back on their feet and help keep them out of jail.
Anyway, I’m doing a story about it and I interviewed the lady who runs it and the guy who runs the prisons in the state and I figured before I wrote the story I should, you know, GO to drug court. So I did.
It was not what I expected.
Here are some of my favorite moments:
Scene One
Drug court lady: (to druggies) Hey ya’ll. This here is Stephanie. She’s a reporter. She wants to take some pictures of drug court, so sign these releases so she can.
Druggie1: She ain’ takin’ MY picture!
Drug court lady: She’s just going to take the back of your head, not your face. She’ll take your picture while you up talkin’ to the judge…
Druggie2: WHY?
Druggie3: How are they showin’ pictures on the RADIO?
Drug court lady: Stop arguing with me and sign the releases!
(several minutes of this conversation over and over. Then,)
Drug court lady: Alright, all ya’ll who signed the releases stand up so she can see who she can take pictures of… stand up… STAND UP!
(they stand up, and give me their best mug-shot pose)
Druggie1: Should we turn around so she can see the back of our heads, since that’s what she’s going to take the picture of?
Scene Two
Drug court lady (to me): The judge says you can come in and take pictures and record sound, but he wanted me to tell you not to move around the courtroom. You have to pick a spot and stay there.
Me (in my head): Well, that’s unfortunate because the best place to take a picture and the best place to record sound are the two opposite places in a room. I’ll sit here, next to (drug court lady) and record her because she obviously is going to be talking to the judge, she’s sitting in front of a microphone. And from here, I can take good pics of the judge, but won’t be able to get good sound from the judge… that’ll have to do…
(ten minutes later, 30 seconds before the judge walks in)
Drug court lady (whispers, to me): Okay, see you later!
And leaves.
Sigh….
Scene Three
Judge: Where are you working?
Druggie: I don’t work.
Judge: (pauses) You’re on work release.
Druggie: I know.
Judge: You have to work.
Druggie: I don’t work.
Judge: Okay, you’ll have to go to jail.
Druggie: That’s fine… (empties pockets for the sheriff’s deputies)
(Steph’s head explodes)
Scene Four
Judge: Are still working at Waffle House?
Druggie Lady: No, I quit,
Judge: Are you getting another job.
Druggie Lady: Well, I’m about to have this baby in a couple weeks, so I thought I’d just wait until after that.
Judge: Oh, okay…when’s the baby due?
Druggie Lady: November.
(brain goo oozing out of Steph’s head...)
Scene Five
Judge: When’s the last time you used?
Druggie: 7/6
Judge: My report says you tested positive later than that.
Druggie: 7/8
Probation officer: (stands up) Tell the truth, Druggie.
Druggie: (silent)
Judge: When’s the last time you used cocaine?
Druggie: 7/8
Probation officer: She’s lying.
Druggie: 7/14
Steph (thinks): That’s TWO days ago!
(other conversation…)
Judge: Okay, see you next week.
Druggie walks away
Judge: hold on a second, look at me.
Druggie looks
Judge: You know you have to stop using, right?
Druggie blankly stares.
Judge. Okay.
(Steph gets pretty sad)
Scene Six
Druggie Chick throws a fit because the judge sends her to jail for not doing what he told her to do (about the third time). Unlike the other people who got sent to jail, she didn’t know she was going to jail when she came in that morning…
Druggie Chick: (yelling, at her probation officer) THEY DON’T SPEAK ENGLISH THERE! THEY DON’T!! WHAT’S GON’ HAPPEN TO MY BABY? (crying, walks through the door to be escorted to jail)
(Steph gets sadder)
Scene Seven
Judge: That is not a natural hair color!
Druggie Woman: I know, I like to mix it up for you, your honor.
Judge: How’s work at Waffle House?
Druggie Woman: Great! I’ve worked 37 hours in the last three days!
Judge: Wow… that’s a lot… why so much?
Druggie Woman: Well, I want to get out of the halfway house and into my own place so I can get my kids back… so I asked for some more shifts…
Judge: Really?
Druggie Woman: Yeah, they said I could work as much as I want, and I feel a lot better now that I’m clean and I can work hard.
Judge: Okay, you’ve been going to your meetings?
Druggie Woman: Yes, sir.
Judge: And your husband?
Druggie Woman: Ex-husband, now, sir. I don’t know about him, had to cut contact.
Judge: Your social worker knows about that?
Druggie Woman: Yes, sir, she helped me do it.
Judge: Okay, see you in two weeks… good work.
(Steph learns there’s a lot more to drug court than what you can see in one day)
Standby…
.
GASP!
Obviously, for a story I’m working on.
For those who aren’t familiar, drug court IS court, but it’s a very specialized court that puts drug offenders (non-violent ones) into a very intense 18-month treatment program to get them back on their feet and help keep them out of jail.
Anyway, I’m doing a story about it and I interviewed the lady who runs it and the guy who runs the prisons in the state and I figured before I wrote the story I should, you know, GO to drug court. So I did.
It was not what I expected.
Here are some of my favorite moments:
Scene One
Drug court lady: (to druggies) Hey ya’ll. This here is Stephanie. She’s a reporter. She wants to take some pictures of drug court, so sign these releases so she can.
Druggie1: She ain’ takin’ MY picture!
Drug court lady: She’s just going to take the back of your head, not your face. She’ll take your picture while you up talkin’ to the judge…
Druggie2: WHY?
Druggie3: How are they showin’ pictures on the RADIO?
Drug court lady: Stop arguing with me and sign the releases!
(several minutes of this conversation over and over. Then,)
Drug court lady: Alright, all ya’ll who signed the releases stand up so she can see who she can take pictures of… stand up… STAND UP!
(they stand up, and give me their best mug-shot pose)
Druggie1: Should we turn around so she can see the back of our heads, since that’s what she’s going to take the picture of?
Scene Two
Drug court lady (to me): The judge says you can come in and take pictures and record sound, but he wanted me to tell you not to move around the courtroom. You have to pick a spot and stay there.
Me (in my head): Well, that’s unfortunate because the best place to take a picture and the best place to record sound are the two opposite places in a room. I’ll sit here, next to (drug court lady) and record her because she obviously is going to be talking to the judge, she’s sitting in front of a microphone. And from here, I can take good pics of the judge, but won’t be able to get good sound from the judge… that’ll have to do…
(ten minutes later, 30 seconds before the judge walks in)
Drug court lady (whispers, to me): Okay, see you later!
And leaves.
Sigh….
Scene Three
Judge: Where are you working?
Druggie: I don’t work.
Judge: (pauses) You’re on work release.
Druggie: I know.
Judge: You have to work.
Druggie: I don’t work.
Judge: Okay, you’ll have to go to jail.
Druggie: That’s fine… (empties pockets for the sheriff’s deputies)
(Steph’s head explodes)
Scene Four
Judge: Are still working at Waffle House?
Druggie Lady: No, I quit,
Judge: Are you getting another job.
Druggie Lady: Well, I’m about to have this baby in a couple weeks, so I thought I’d just wait until after that.
Judge: Oh, okay…when’s the baby due?
Druggie Lady: November.
(brain goo oozing out of Steph’s head...)
Scene Five
Judge: When’s the last time you used?
Druggie: 7/6
Judge: My report says you tested positive later than that.
Druggie: 7/8
Probation officer: (stands up) Tell the truth, Druggie.
Druggie: (silent)
Judge: When’s the last time you used cocaine?
Druggie: 7/8
Probation officer: She’s lying.
Druggie: 7/14
Steph (thinks): That’s TWO days ago!
(other conversation…)
Judge: Okay, see you next week.
Druggie walks away
Judge: hold on a second, look at me.
Druggie looks
Judge: You know you have to stop using, right?
Druggie blankly stares.
Judge. Okay.
(Steph gets pretty sad)
Scene Six
Druggie Chick throws a fit because the judge sends her to jail for not doing what he told her to do (about the third time). Unlike the other people who got sent to jail, she didn’t know she was going to jail when she came in that morning…
Druggie Chick: (yelling, at her probation officer) THEY DON’T SPEAK ENGLISH THERE! THEY DON’T!! WHAT’S GON’ HAPPEN TO MY BABY? (crying, walks through the door to be escorted to jail)
(Steph gets sadder)
Scene Seven
Judge: That is not a natural hair color!
Druggie Woman: I know, I like to mix it up for you, your honor.
Judge: How’s work at Waffle House?
Druggie Woman: Great! I’ve worked 37 hours in the last three days!
Judge: Wow… that’s a lot… why so much?
Druggie Woman: Well, I want to get out of the halfway house and into my own place so I can get my kids back… so I asked for some more shifts…
Judge: Really?
Druggie Woman: Yeah, they said I could work as much as I want, and I feel a lot better now that I’m clean and I can work hard.
Judge: Okay, you’ve been going to your meetings?
Druggie Woman: Yes, sir.
Judge: And your husband?
Druggie Woman: Ex-husband, now, sir. I don’t know about him, had to cut contact.
Judge: Your social worker knows about that?
Druggie Woman: Yes, sir, she helped me do it.
Judge: Okay, see you in two weeks… good work.
(Steph learns there’s a lot more to drug court than what you can see in one day)
Standby…
.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Choose This Day Whom You Will Serve
Last week during Bible study, I was telling my roommate Viv about how much I love our church and how I walk out every Sunday and think “Man, I LOVE this church.” I’m continually challenged, convicted, spurned into growth, asked tough questions, etc. I know Southeast is just ‘a church’ compared to ‘The Church’, but wow, I am really blessed to have found this place.
Anyway, we just started a new sermon series called “gods at war” and this week’s message was AMAZING. Heart changing. I was literally trembling a little at the end of it.
I’m telling you this so you’ll have the chance to watch the sermons online… or buy the DVDs or do the devotions or SOMETHING. Get involved in this. There are three more weeks to go in this series and I am praying for God to keep working on my heart in this area.
Here’s where you can watch…
http://www.southeastchristian.org/sermons/?id=808
It’s Okay To Question Your Doctor
We just had a health insurance meeting today. I’m a little upset. We still have great insurance (don’t ask me how we’re doing THAT), and two plans to choose from. The second is a high-deductible plan with an HSA. These two ladies were REALLY pushing this one (I still haven’t quite figured out why). They SAID they like it because it forces us to be more consumerish when it comes to health care.
You know, the way we are with pizza and buying ski equipment. We search around for what we think is a good value and go with that. They want us to do our own research on what drugs are less expensive. They want us to research which facilities can do the surgery we need cheaper than the one we were referred to by our doctor.
I have many problems with this.
First of all, I can research pizza and ski equipment because those aren’t hard things to understand. I know I’m never going to be a professional skier, so I don’t need the skis that cost $20,000. However, no amount of research will prepare me for knowing if I need the $95,000 heart valve replacement or if I can skimp on that one and go for the $70,000 heart valve replacement. I want to do whatever the heck my doctor tells me to do! That’s why they went to college for, like, 100 years longer than I did!
Secondly, I understand there are doctors who will automatically prescribe the name brand prescription even though they could save you money and prescribe the generic. It upsets me that our medical world has come to this. But I still don’t want to research all the names of those drugs I can’t pronounce and sit there and ASK the doctor to write a different prescription! I hate it that I can’t trust them. Because I sure don’t trust MYSELF to figure out what drug I should be taking.
If this is the new road our health care system is taking, I think doctors should start making a lot less money. Because except for surgeries and such, I’m going to be doing a lot more work.
And I was perfectly happy with them being rich and me trusting everything they said.
Standby…
.
Anyway, we just started a new sermon series called “gods at war” and this week’s message was AMAZING. Heart changing. I was literally trembling a little at the end of it.
I’m telling you this so you’ll have the chance to watch the sermons online… or buy the DVDs or do the devotions or SOMETHING. Get involved in this. There are three more weeks to go in this series and I am praying for God to keep working on my heart in this area.
Here’s where you can watch…
http://www.southeastchristian.org/sermons/?id=808
It’s Okay To Question Your Doctor
We just had a health insurance meeting today. I’m a little upset. We still have great insurance (don’t ask me how we’re doing THAT), and two plans to choose from. The second is a high-deductible plan with an HSA. These two ladies were REALLY pushing this one (I still haven’t quite figured out why). They SAID they like it because it forces us to be more consumerish when it comes to health care.
You know, the way we are with pizza and buying ski equipment. We search around for what we think is a good value and go with that. They want us to do our own research on what drugs are less expensive. They want us to research which facilities can do the surgery we need cheaper than the one we were referred to by our doctor.
I have many problems with this.
First of all, I can research pizza and ski equipment because those aren’t hard things to understand. I know I’m never going to be a professional skier, so I don’t need the skis that cost $20,000. However, no amount of research will prepare me for knowing if I need the $95,000 heart valve replacement or if I can skimp on that one and go for the $70,000 heart valve replacement. I want to do whatever the heck my doctor tells me to do! That’s why they went to college for, like, 100 years longer than I did!
Secondly, I understand there are doctors who will automatically prescribe the name brand prescription even though they could save you money and prescribe the generic. It upsets me that our medical world has come to this. But I still don’t want to research all the names of those drugs I can’t pronounce and sit there and ASK the doctor to write a different prescription! I hate it that I can’t trust them. Because I sure don’t trust MYSELF to figure out what drug I should be taking.
If this is the new road our health care system is taking, I think doctors should start making a lot less money. Because except for surgeries and such, I’m going to be doing a lot more work.
And I was perfectly happy with them being rich and me trusting everything they said.
Standby…
.
Disclaimer, Retraction AND Clarification
Apparently, my last post has disturbed some people. Let me be clear:
I am not a lesbian.
I have never for a minute thought I might be a lesbian.
I wasn’t trying to hint to people that I might be a lesbian.
I don’t even think the man in that story actually thinks I’m a lesbian.
I was simply trying to make a joke about how people in small towns think it’s weird if you aren’t married by the time you’re 25. I failed miserably. My bad.
Standby...
.
I am not a lesbian.
I have never for a minute thought I might be a lesbian.
I wasn’t trying to hint to people that I might be a lesbian.
I don’t even think the man in that story actually thinks I’m a lesbian.
I was simply trying to make a joke about how people in small towns think it’s weird if you aren’t married by the time you’re 25. I failed miserably. My bad.
Standby...
.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Accepting my Fate
Things I did last weekend:
- drove to Paris via ‘the back way’, aka NOT Lexington Road because I know the cops like to set up roadblocks there on holiday weekends and I couldn’t find my insurance card (I’ve found it now, in case you KSP officers are reading my blog, plotting to catch me on my way home). Anyhoo, it reminded me of how nice some of those back roads are…
- ate lunch with my mom at Taco Bell, my first at the new Taco Bell in Paris (woo hoo!) Ran into a band dad from when I was in marching band… his first two questions for me: Where you livin’? (Louisville.) (Oh! The BIG city!) and Are you married? (no…) (awkward pause as I think ‘really? That’s your SECOND question?’ and he thinks ‘is she a lesbian?’)
- went to Peebles with my mom… also a ‘fancy new thing’ in Paris. It’s like a Kohls, and mom is very proud of it. And I’ll admit, it’s pretty nice… Paris isn’t used to stuff like that.
- from Peebles went to the new Tractor Supply Co. store… where I was delightfully surprised that only half of it is what I expected. Part of it is a cowgirl attire store (pink and rhinestones make me think of Ann), and part of it is like Petsmart. Pretty cool. Also, I think to myself, “If I had cowgirl boots, I’d want them to be red or pink.…. Yep.”
- from Tractor Supply, we went to one of those parking lot fireworks stands to get some sparklers… but for some reason, we wandered around the stand long after we’d located sparklers, looking at (and I think mom was considering buying) those more intense, intriguing, but lame ‘other’ fireworks we’re both too scared to light. I remember the one time in my life we actually used some of those… in the McWilliams family front yard… scorched the front sidewalk and it looked like that for YEARS… probably still does.
- talked at length with my mom about how much we like the new Brooks and Dunn song.
- watched ‘neighborhood fireworks’ from the front porch with mom, even though I KNOW they’re illegal and not nearly as good as Thunder fireworks, I’m enthralled like a small child, drinking wine coolers (let me explain, mom had a cookout a few weeks ago and had various alcoholic beverages for her guests because she is a great hostess. Among these leftover beverages were extremely FOUL bottles of Coors Light or some other beer disgrace and Captain Morgans super-fruity-tootie something or other. We were drinking those. It’s my duty to help her get rid of the stuff. I’m a good daughter). At one point, we couldn’t tell if the fireworks in FRONT of the house were better, or the ones we could hear but couldn’t see BEHIND the house were better. At one point, we decided the fireworks in the front of the house were over, grabbed our bottles and scuttled through the house to the backyard deck to see the other fireworks. And there, standing alone in the dark on the deck, holding fruity-a-rootie-tootie bottle, head craned to catch a glimpse of illegal neighborhood fireworks, I thought to myself:
I am SUCH a hillbilly.
Good thing I also drive a Jetta, am becoming a wine connoisseur, and work for public radio, or I’d be in serious trouble.
Standby…
.
- drove to Paris via ‘the back way’, aka NOT Lexington Road because I know the cops like to set up roadblocks there on holiday weekends and I couldn’t find my insurance card (I’ve found it now, in case you KSP officers are reading my blog, plotting to catch me on my way home). Anyhoo, it reminded me of how nice some of those back roads are…
- ate lunch with my mom at Taco Bell, my first at the new Taco Bell in Paris (woo hoo!) Ran into a band dad from when I was in marching band… his first two questions for me: Where you livin’? (Louisville.) (Oh! The BIG city!) and Are you married? (no…) (awkward pause as I think ‘really? That’s your SECOND question?’ and he thinks ‘is she a lesbian?’)
- went to Peebles with my mom… also a ‘fancy new thing’ in Paris. It’s like a Kohls, and mom is very proud of it. And I’ll admit, it’s pretty nice… Paris isn’t used to stuff like that.
- from Peebles went to the new Tractor Supply Co. store… where I was delightfully surprised that only half of it is what I expected. Part of it is a cowgirl attire store (pink and rhinestones make me think of Ann), and part of it is like Petsmart. Pretty cool. Also, I think to myself, “If I had cowgirl boots, I’d want them to be red or pink.…. Yep.”
- from Tractor Supply, we went to one of those parking lot fireworks stands to get some sparklers… but for some reason, we wandered around the stand long after we’d located sparklers, looking at (and I think mom was considering buying) those more intense, intriguing, but lame ‘other’ fireworks we’re both too scared to light. I remember the one time in my life we actually used some of those… in the McWilliams family front yard… scorched the front sidewalk and it looked like that for YEARS… probably still does.
- talked at length with my mom about how much we like the new Brooks and Dunn song.
- watched ‘neighborhood fireworks’ from the front porch with mom, even though I KNOW they’re illegal and not nearly as good as Thunder fireworks, I’m enthralled like a small child, drinking wine coolers (let me explain, mom had a cookout a few weeks ago and had various alcoholic beverages for her guests because she is a great hostess. Among these leftover beverages were extremely FOUL bottles of Coors Light or some other beer disgrace and Captain Morgans super-fruity-tootie something or other. We were drinking those. It’s my duty to help her get rid of the stuff. I’m a good daughter). At one point, we couldn’t tell if the fireworks in FRONT of the house were better, or the ones we could hear but couldn’t see BEHIND the house were better. At one point, we decided the fireworks in the front of the house were over, grabbed our bottles and scuttled through the house to the backyard deck to see the other fireworks. And there, standing alone in the dark on the deck, holding fruity-a-rootie-tootie bottle, head craned to catch a glimpse of illegal neighborhood fireworks, I thought to myself:
I am SUCH a hillbilly.
Good thing I also drive a Jetta, am becoming a wine connoisseur, and work for public radio, or I’d be in serious trouble.
Standby…
.
Monday, July 7, 2008
No, Mr. Mandelbaum, Noooooooo!!!
(That headline won't make sense for awhile...)
Prepare to hear one of the saddest things you’ve ever heard: I forgot how much fun kittens are.
I know. When I thought that to myself this weekend when I was playing with my mom’s new kitten, Frankie, I then thought, “what has become of you, Sanders?”
So, I really hogged the cat this weekend when I was home. He’s a great snuggle-bunny. You can get him super-wound-up to where you can see in his little kitty eyes he thinking ‘what is happening to MEE??’ and yet is so happy, he can’t stop playing. AND he knows how to chill-out… hang out on the porch, laze in the sun, kittyness.
And no weekend with an adorable kitty would be complete without trying to take a billion pictures of him and only two of them turning out cute.
So, I really hogged the cat this weekend when I was home. He’s a great snuggle-bunny. You can get him super-wound-up to where you can see in his little kitty eyes he thinking ‘what is happening to MEE??’ and yet is so happy, he can’t stop playing. AND he knows how to chill-out… hang out on the porch, laze in the sun, kittyness.
And no weekend with an adorable kitty would be complete without trying to take a billion pictures of him and only two of them turning out cute.
This is his elegant, I’m-waiting-for-a-table-would-you-like-to-join-me-for-brandy look.
This is where we were playing the game bite-bite-bite, lick-lick-lick. I only recommend you play it with very small kittens.
More of bite-bite-bite, lick-lick-lick. The biting part. Ah, tiny kitten scratches…
“Um, what are you doing with that shiny eyeball thingie? We’re PLAYING. Focus!”
I’ve HEARD denim is very tasty. Haven’t tried it myself yet…
In other kitty news, Clara didn’t even seem to notice that I’d had another cat wallering all over me. So all it well on the homefront.
Stories I’m sick of writing (in a million different ways)
Gas prices are high.
High gas prices affect ALMOST EVERTYHING.
The economy sucks.
A sucky economy affects EVERYTHING.
Mr. Mandelbaum
Do you remember that episode of Seinfeld with Mr. Mandelbaum? Old guy, too-tight sweat pants, thinks he’s much stronger and healthier than he is, ridiculous competitiveness? I met him this morning!!
Well, sort of. A VERSION of him.
I decided to start running in the mornings… gets the metabolism going early… makes me not a sleeping log in the morning… general fit-ness… all good things. So for the very first time, I dragged my butt out of bed this morning and walked to the exercise room for our little condo complex to run.
I didn’t really know what to expect. I would be possible the place would be full of people who run on those two treadmills in the morning. Who knows?
When I get there, there’s an old man (OLD, people) lifting weights. He’s got the sweatband on his head like Mr. Mandelbaum. And he’s all ‘I warmed the treadmill up for you! Got in THREE miles… how many miles YOU gonna run?’ like Mr. Mandelbaum.
The DIFFERENCE is that this man is less appropriately dressed than Mr. Mandelbaum. In fact, all this man is wearing is the sweat band, socks and tennis shoes and BOXER shorts. Yes. I think he thinks they are ‘workout’ shorts. But they aren’t. They’re BOXER shorts! Underwear, people!!!! Also, no shirt.
Needless to say, I did my best to avert my eyes and breathed a HUGE sigh of relief when he left.
This does not ADD to the list of things I want to wake up to, nor drag myself out of bed to run near. Hopefully he only does that on Mondays.
Standby...
.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
I'm the Barney
I’m noticing a pattern as I go through a few different Bible studies… it actually just occurred to me Wednesday. As we’ve done studies of the life and teachings of Jesus, the letters Paul wrote while in prison, and now major prophecies… it seems like those topics would vary widely. But I always find myself thinking something like “What’s WRONG with that guy/those people??”
In the life and teachings of Jesus, it’s the disciples. They’re always asking bonehead questions and not really trusting in Jesus and seeming genuinely SHOCKED every single time he performs a miracle. Even at the end of their time with him, they’re asking all these silly questions of him. And I think to myself, “they just don’t get it.”
In the letters from Paul to the first-century churches, it’s the church members. He’s always having to encourage them, tell them not to argue with each other over trivial things, and really obvious things like ‘don’t worship other gods’. These are people who lived closest to the same time as Jesus and it’s easy to think “they just don’t get it”.
In the prophecies we’re studying this summer, it’s the Israelites. I actually remember thinking this about them when I was a lot younger. I mean, God is literally SPEAKING to you, he tells you not to do something, two seconds later, guess what you’re doing? God makes you all these great promises and covenants and you just keep screwing it up. Over and over and over. It never gets old. They never learn their lesson. REALLY easy in this case to think “they just don’t get it”.
Sure, the disciples were a little slow in ‘getting it’ because they didn’t have the perspective we have, they were living all these crazy things and their brains just couldn’t keep up (and whose could?). Sure, the first-century churches struggled a lot because they didn’t have the Bible, their leader was in a Roman prison and there was this little thing called ‘persecution’ going on. And sure, the Israelites are a giant mass of people and it’s really hard to get, say, two-million people to all do the same thing, even if it’s something really easy like petting kittens.
Ready for the whammy? I AM THAT CHARACTER. You know, the Barney Fife. The one to tries and tries but always seems to end up doing something stupid. Like the disciples. Like the first-century church members. Like the Israelites. Knowing what I know, I should never live a day in a bad mood, never let the world get the best of me, never miss an opportunity to sing His praises.
Unlike the disciples, I have historical perspective. Unlike the first-century church members, I have a Bible to read and study. Unlike the Israelites, I can make a choice to be unique and not fall into the patterns of the world.
What’s MY excuse?
** ** ** **
I’ll leave you with a little play of a conversation I had last night:
(Our heroine, Steph, is napping on the couch, waiting for the last of her laundry to finish in the dryer. She awakens around 10:45 to the sound of her phone ringing… ‘Yay, mom’s calling me back’ she thinks. But the screen on her phone disagrees. It says “David calling”. Brain goes to David McWilliams, and though David is like a brother to Stephanie, she’s wondering why he’s calling so late… then ‘Something must be wrong!’)
Steph: Hello… how ARE you? (wanting to ask ‘are you okay? Katie okay? Everyone with the last name McWilliams okay?)
Other voice: Hi! Do you know who this is?
Steph: Yes…. (still a little asleep)… it’s David.
David: Yes, it IS David! Are you the person in number four? (laughing)
Steph: (remembering her old landlord’s name is David and she used to live in ‘number four’) Um… no?
David: You’re NOT the person in number four?
Steph: No…. I USED to live in number four…but I moved away.
David: Oh! I’ve GOT to update my Rolodex…well, how the heck are ya?
Steph: I’m fine, thanks (notice the lack of asking how HE is…)
David: How’s the baby?
Steph: (confused pause)
David: You SURE you don’t live in number four?
Steph: I don’t have a baby.
David: You DON’T? Who is this?
Steph: You called ME. This is Stephanie. I USED to live in number four. I DON’T have a baby. (wanting to ask ‘have you been drinking?’)
David: Oh, you DON’T live in number four! I’m sorry. I do that all the time. One time, I called this lady I didn’t even know and we talked for an hour and a half! Can you believe that? A person must be really lonely to talk to someone for that long they don’t even know, you know? So… how’ve you been?
Steph: I’m fine, thanks.
David: Well, we’re trying to reach all the tenants because we’re having the building appraised, but April forgot to call…
Steph: (interrupting) Well, good luck finding number four. (click) ::rolling eyes::
Curtain closes.
Standby.
.
In the life and teachings of Jesus, it’s the disciples. They’re always asking bonehead questions and not really trusting in Jesus and seeming genuinely SHOCKED every single time he performs a miracle. Even at the end of their time with him, they’re asking all these silly questions of him. And I think to myself, “they just don’t get it.”
In the letters from Paul to the first-century churches, it’s the church members. He’s always having to encourage them, tell them not to argue with each other over trivial things, and really obvious things like ‘don’t worship other gods’. These are people who lived closest to the same time as Jesus and it’s easy to think “they just don’t get it”.
In the prophecies we’re studying this summer, it’s the Israelites. I actually remember thinking this about them when I was a lot younger. I mean, God is literally SPEAKING to you, he tells you not to do something, two seconds later, guess what you’re doing? God makes you all these great promises and covenants and you just keep screwing it up. Over and over and over. It never gets old. They never learn their lesson. REALLY easy in this case to think “they just don’t get it”.
Sure, the disciples were a little slow in ‘getting it’ because they didn’t have the perspective we have, they were living all these crazy things and their brains just couldn’t keep up (and whose could?). Sure, the first-century churches struggled a lot because they didn’t have the Bible, their leader was in a Roman prison and there was this little thing called ‘persecution’ going on. And sure, the Israelites are a giant mass of people and it’s really hard to get, say, two-million people to all do the same thing, even if it’s something really easy like petting kittens.
Ready for the whammy? I AM THAT CHARACTER. You know, the Barney Fife. The one to tries and tries but always seems to end up doing something stupid. Like the disciples. Like the first-century church members. Like the Israelites. Knowing what I know, I should never live a day in a bad mood, never let the world get the best of me, never miss an opportunity to sing His praises.
Unlike the disciples, I have historical perspective. Unlike the first-century church members, I have a Bible to read and study. Unlike the Israelites, I can make a choice to be unique and not fall into the patterns of the world.
What’s MY excuse?
** ** ** **
I’ll leave you with a little play of a conversation I had last night:
(Our heroine, Steph, is napping on the couch, waiting for the last of her laundry to finish in the dryer. She awakens around 10:45 to the sound of her phone ringing… ‘Yay, mom’s calling me back’ she thinks. But the screen on her phone disagrees. It says “David calling”. Brain goes to David McWilliams, and though David is like a brother to Stephanie, she’s wondering why he’s calling so late… then ‘Something must be wrong!’)
Steph: Hello… how ARE you? (wanting to ask ‘are you okay? Katie okay? Everyone with the last name McWilliams okay?)
Other voice: Hi! Do you know who this is?
Steph: Yes…. (still a little asleep)… it’s David.
David: Yes, it IS David! Are you the person in number four? (laughing)
Steph: (remembering her old landlord’s name is David and she used to live in ‘number four’) Um… no?
David: You’re NOT the person in number four?
Steph: No…. I USED to live in number four…but I moved away.
David: Oh! I’ve GOT to update my Rolodex…well, how the heck are ya?
Steph: I’m fine, thanks (notice the lack of asking how HE is…)
David: How’s the baby?
Steph: (confused pause)
David: You SURE you don’t live in number four?
Steph: I don’t have a baby.
David: You DON’T? Who is this?
Steph: You called ME. This is Stephanie. I USED to live in number four. I DON’T have a baby. (wanting to ask ‘have you been drinking?’)
David: Oh, you DON’T live in number four! I’m sorry. I do that all the time. One time, I called this lady I didn’t even know and we talked for an hour and a half! Can you believe that? A person must be really lonely to talk to someone for that long they don’t even know, you know? So… how’ve you been?
Steph: I’m fine, thanks.
David: Well, we’re trying to reach all the tenants because we’re having the building appraised, but April forgot to call…
Steph: (interrupting) Well, good luck finding number four. (click) ::rolling eyes::
Curtain closes.
Standby.
.
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