I need your help! I am conducting a research project that is very important. And secret. It's for the government or something. Here's the question: What word would you have most likely used to describe the item in this photo between the years 1981 and 1987? Is this a "Boom Box" or a "Ghetto Blaster"?
I remember what a big deal it was to have a really big stereo to carry around on your shoulder. Once when I was in like the fourth grade or something, I was at the YMCA and there were all these really cool teenagers playing basketball in the gym and one of them had a stereo so big it had a television built right into it. I was convinced the owner and operator of that stereo must have been the all time coolest dude ever. EVER! Who knows what I'm saying? If you are reading this PLEASE take a moment and respond to this very imprortant poll. it's for the good of mankind or whatever. Also, feel free to leave your memories of the giant stereos of yore. Thanks.
Boom Box or Ghetto Blaster?
10.4.05
A Good Book
Worth the price just for the title.
"A person has to be thoroughly disgusted with the way things are to find the motivation to set out on the Christian way. As long as we think that the next election might eliminate crime and establish justice or another scientific breakthrough might save the environment or another pay raise might push us over the edge of anxiety into a life of tranquility, we are not likely to risk the arduous uncertainties of the life of faith. A person has to get fed up with the ways of the world before he, before she, acquires an appetite for the world of grace. Psalm 120 is the song of such a person, sick with the lies and crippled with the hate, a person doubled up in pain over what is going on in the world..."
"A person has to be thoroughly disgusted with the way things are to find the motivation to set out on the Christian way. As long as we think that the next election might eliminate crime and establish justice or another scientific breakthrough might save the environment or another pay raise might push us over the edge of anxiety into a life of tranquility, we are not likely to risk the arduous uncertainties of the life of faith. A person has to get fed up with the ways of the world before he, before she, acquires an appetite for the world of grace. Psalm 120 is the song of such a person, sick with the lies and crippled with the hate, a person doubled up in pain over what is going on in the world..."
Who Remembers These 10 Things No Longer Found in Greenville, Ohio?
1. Flag Wars
2. The Mock Rock
3. The really really tall slide at the park
4. Lotsa Dots
5. Ed Cornell's
6. Water in the fountain on the circle
7. Lightning & Banjoman
8. Murphy's (They sold candy and parakeets!)
9. Annie Oakley Days on the Museum grounds
10. Cruising Broadway
2. The Mock Rock
3. The really really tall slide at the park
4. Lotsa Dots
5. Ed Cornell's
6. Water in the fountain on the circle
7. Lightning & Banjoman
8. Murphy's (They sold candy and parakeets!)
9. Annie Oakley Days on the Museum grounds
10. Cruising Broadway
Moderately Embarassing Biographical Fact # 1
I really enjoy watching Ultimate Fighting Championship.
Vigilante of Suburban Coffee Shops
Bill Mallonee, former lead singer & chief architect of Athens, Georgia based alt-country act Vigilantes of Love performed solo at Scotty McBeans in a Columbus, Ohio suburb just mile from my home this past week. And when I say he performed "solo" I mean "SOLO". The poor guy travels the country in a rented car with his guitars in the back seat. He runs his own soundboard, sells his own merchandise, tunes his own guitars, chauferrs himself to and from venues... The only thing he didn't do is run the cappucino machine. Anyway, the show was rewarding. Bill ran through a slew of favorites from his days with VOL as well as newer works from his three solo albums.
If you've never listened to Bill or VOL, I recommend you give it a spin. Expect a peculiar vocal style (ala Dylan or Neil Young) and lot's of poignant lyrics. I know this sounds odd, but I think Mallonee's lyrics have had as much influence on the way I want to approach preaching as any contemporary author or homiletician. In fact, there a handful of lines from his lyrics that I've carried around with me for years, in the back of my mind. They're always there and shape the way I think about life and God and faith. Bleeding heart sewn securely to thread-bare sleeve. Here's a few:
All this stuff I thought was jewelry turns out to be chains.
Take the true and the real from the false and the fake and the mountains reduce to rubble.
The Doctor is in, the surgery is free, he use no anasthetics but its all guaranteed
It's amazing what you'll sell when you're not doing that well, the stories you will tell to make you a friend
How much of this was meant to be, How much the work of the devil? How far can one man's eyes really see in these days of toil and trouble?
Are there any words of wisdom I've picked up along the way? Yes, death usually comes dressed up in her finery and lace. Hasn't eveyone in these bars been crying inside their whole life through? Well you might think we've ceased to hear it but no, the opposite's true.
It's all over, there's no explanation. All that's left is the messy clean up operation.
I have a picture. Wish it was a photograph. You were holding little children, right there upon your lap. Its never cold in that picture, as far as I can tell, but outside the rain has changed to snow and its frozen in the well.
This is dangerous terrain we're attemtping to traverse. It's a crying shame, but it could be alot worse.
Jim and Tammy and Reverend Swaggart, they don't look like Jesus & they're a whole lot fatter, Don't miss the Truth for a stupid side show, & don't confuse the cup for the contents it holds
I'm so tired of all my toys, they never last for long. They keep beaming dreams and wishes to the big dish on my front lawn. I want to drink out of that fountain on a hill called double cure. I want show you my allegience. I want to be a son of yours.
Your lips were alluring and slightly moist, so let's kiss away our part of the curse.
We've been dragging our dreams across the asphalt and pavement, trying to speak of the gift and the one who gave it.
If you've never listened to Bill or VOL, I recommend you give it a spin. Expect a peculiar vocal style (ala Dylan or Neil Young) and lot's of poignant lyrics. I know this sounds odd, but I think Mallonee's lyrics have had as much influence on the way I want to approach preaching as any contemporary author or homiletician. In fact, there a handful of lines from his lyrics that I've carried around with me for years, in the back of my mind. They're always there and shape the way I think about life and God and faith. Bleeding heart sewn securely to thread-bare sleeve. Here's a few:
All this stuff I thought was jewelry turns out to be chains.
Take the true and the real from the false and the fake and the mountains reduce to rubble.
The Doctor is in, the surgery is free, he use no anasthetics but its all guaranteed
It's amazing what you'll sell when you're not doing that well, the stories you will tell to make you a friend
How much of this was meant to be, How much the work of the devil? How far can one man's eyes really see in these days of toil and trouble?
Are there any words of wisdom I've picked up along the way? Yes, death usually comes dressed up in her finery and lace. Hasn't eveyone in these bars been crying inside their whole life through? Well you might think we've ceased to hear it but no, the opposite's true.
It's all over, there's no explanation. All that's left is the messy clean up operation.
I have a picture. Wish it was a photograph. You were holding little children, right there upon your lap. Its never cold in that picture, as far as I can tell, but outside the rain has changed to snow and its frozen in the well.
This is dangerous terrain we're attemtping to traverse. It's a crying shame, but it could be alot worse.
Jim and Tammy and Reverend Swaggart, they don't look like Jesus & they're a whole lot fatter, Don't miss the Truth for a stupid side show, & don't confuse the cup for the contents it holds
I'm so tired of all my toys, they never last for long. They keep beaming dreams and wishes to the big dish on my front lawn. I want to drink out of that fountain on a hill called double cure. I want show you my allegience. I want to be a son of yours.
Your lips were alluring and slightly moist, so let's kiss away our part of the curse.
We've been dragging our dreams across the asphalt and pavement, trying to speak of the gift and the one who gave it.
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