A photo I took recently. Kinda spooky, huh?
18.6.05
14.6.05
On Family Traveling
Well, we made it to Chattanooga. Finally.
I've always been fond of road trips. Even the lengthy sort. Of course, once one is married, all activities involving navigation and the operation of a motor vehicle suddenly become spontaneous exercises in conflict resolution. And this is not to mention the added dimensions marriage brings to the packing of the bags (which use to consist mainly of sniffing one's own t-shirt, grabbing a mountain dew from the fridge and tossing a handful of CD's into the passenger seat. On a good day your toothbrush MIGHT end up in your back pocket).
Now of course, it is different. There is actual luggage involved now. And math. Math is required for the packing of the luggage. And one entire piece of luggage is designated for the sole purpose of transporting the soaps and the conditioners and the loofas and all sorts of mysterious tiny bottles containing lotions and creams and astringents that (if price is any indication) all perform very important functions, though one can never be sure exactly what those functions are. This time there was even room left over for my toothbrush (phew!).
CD's are still a necessity of course, but no longer may the traveling collection be compiled on a whim. No, no, no. Now there is delegation, and negotiations. Concessions must be made. Deals must be struck. What once was a completed without a second thought, now becomes a highly political endeavor calling for the subtle arts of compromise and consensus building.
"Ok, I'll leave behind Tool, if you promise not to make me listen to Norah Jones again".
"Alright... And let's pick out something we both can enjoy"
Of course this last statement actually means something more like "Let's pick out something that neither one of us will hate to hear, but which lacks any trace of aesthetic conviction which might make it objectionable to the tastes of listeners on either end of the musical spectrum". (Which by the way, explains how Coldplay sold all those records).
And so it goes. And we've not even mentioned the children. Ah yes! The children. Now throw children into the mix and the once simple road trip becomes infinitely more complex. What, with the pooping of the pants and the changing of the diapers and the dropping of the toys and the crying of the babies and the stopping to pee pee and the stopping to pee pee again and the asking of the questions and the kicking of the back of the seat and the stopping to pee pee and the turning down of the radio as not to wake the baby and the eating of the candy and the spilling of the juice box...
As you can see, it can all become a very involved ordeal.
So, now I'm writing from my hotel room. As it turns out they were out of actual rooms with two beds, which is exactly the kind of room we reserved. As Jerry Seinfeld was quick to point out, it's not so much the taking of the reservation that is the challenge. It is the keeping of the reservation. But the kind folks behind the desk made good and put us up in a suite. Sweet. And swanky!
So all is well. Early day tomorrow. I'm going to get in bed. Which as I understand, is custom-designed for a great night's sleep. Or that's what the brochure said, anyway.
I've always been fond of road trips. Even the lengthy sort. Of course, once one is married, all activities involving navigation and the operation of a motor vehicle suddenly become spontaneous exercises in conflict resolution. And this is not to mention the added dimensions marriage brings to the packing of the bags (which use to consist mainly of sniffing one's own t-shirt, grabbing a mountain dew from the fridge and tossing a handful of CD's into the passenger seat. On a good day your toothbrush MIGHT end up in your back pocket).
Now of course, it is different. There is actual luggage involved now. And math. Math is required for the packing of the luggage. And one entire piece of luggage is designated for the sole purpose of transporting the soaps and the conditioners and the loofas and all sorts of mysterious tiny bottles containing lotions and creams and astringents that (if price is any indication) all perform very important functions, though one can never be sure exactly what those functions are. This time there was even room left over for my toothbrush (phew!).
CD's are still a necessity of course, but no longer may the traveling collection be compiled on a whim. No, no, no. Now there is delegation, and negotiations. Concessions must be made. Deals must be struck. What once was a completed without a second thought, now becomes a highly political endeavor calling for the subtle arts of compromise and consensus building.
"Ok, I'll leave behind Tool, if you promise not to make me listen to Norah Jones again".
"Alright... And let's pick out something we both can enjoy"
Of course this last statement actually means something more like "Let's pick out something that neither one of us will hate to hear, but which lacks any trace of aesthetic conviction which might make it objectionable to the tastes of listeners on either end of the musical spectrum". (Which by the way, explains how Coldplay sold all those records).
And so it goes. And we've not even mentioned the children. Ah yes! The children. Now throw children into the mix and the once simple road trip becomes infinitely more complex. What, with the pooping of the pants and the changing of the diapers and the dropping of the toys and the crying of the babies and the stopping to pee pee and the stopping to pee pee again and the asking of the questions and the kicking of the back of the seat and the stopping to pee pee and the turning down of the radio as not to wake the baby and the eating of the candy and the spilling of the juice box...
As you can see, it can all become a very involved ordeal.
So, now I'm writing from my hotel room. As it turns out they were out of actual rooms with two beds, which is exactly the kind of room we reserved. As Jerry Seinfeld was quick to point out, it's not so much the taking of the reservation that is the challenge. It is the keeping of the reservation. But the kind folks behind the desk made good and put us up in a suite. Sweet. And swanky!
So all is well. Early day tomorrow. I'm going to get in bed. Which as I understand, is custom-designed for a great night's sleep. Or that's what the brochure said, anyway.
Live! From Chattanooga! It's a big Presbyterian church businesss meeting thingy or whatever!
Wow. Even the SNL intro doesn't help make it sound exciting.
10.6.05
Just in case...
Dear Reader,
You probably will not have the occasion to use the information contained here. But you'd better watch it anyway. You know... just in case.
Always looking out for you,
FP
You probably will not have the occasion to use the information contained here. But you'd better watch it anyway. You know... just in case.
Always looking out for you,
FP
9.6.05
South Park Funky Presbyterian
My friend Scott created this amazing likeness of me in South Park style. At least the mullet is gone now.
8.6.05
7.6.05
Coldplay's new album released today.
No, I haven't purchased it yet. However, I do have a family roadtrip planned next week to attend a meeting in Chattanooga. Perhaps I'll purchase it for the trip.
I found this quote is from a recent review particularly insightful...
The band also lacks one more essential ingredient that will prevent it from ever achieving legendary status—intensity. After three quality releases, we have seen Chris Martin and Co. open their hearts, but we have yet to see them burn. And that is why the calls for Coldplay to take the mantle from U2 are premature and without merit. From “I Will Follow” to “Yahweh,” U2 has burned like no other. Coldplay, on the other hand, has given us a nice glow to warm ourselves by in the cold night.
Click the link above to read the review in it's entirety. Also check out the rest of the website.
I found this quote is from a recent review particularly insightful...
The band also lacks one more essential ingredient that will prevent it from ever achieving legendary status—intensity. After three quality releases, we have seen Chris Martin and Co. open their hearts, but we have yet to see them burn. And that is why the calls for Coldplay to take the mantle from U2 are premature and without merit. From “I Will Follow” to “Yahweh,” U2 has burned like no other. Coldplay, on the other hand, has given us a nice glow to warm ourselves by in the cold night.
Click the link above to read the review in it's entirety. Also check out the rest of the website.
And these two were the best we could come up with as a nation?
A poor student, but at least he was handsome. Check out this link concerning the release of Kerry's academic records.
Originally uploaded by Greg Blosser.
6.6.05
Grace Central Logo Found Mysteriously Burned Into Hardwood Floor!
This is better than the potato chip shaped like Mother Theresea. It must be a sign... or an omen... or a clever photo-shopped desktop wallpaper now available for downloading at gracecentral.org
That's right, people... get your very own grace central desk top wallpaper at gracecentral.org Choose from three different designs. You can be the envy of all your coworkers.
Then, having created in them a sense of envy and in yourself a sense of superiority, you can all come to church Sunday night to repent of your sins. See how that works?
Thanks to Dan Fox for these funky designs. He's the man... but not the variety that keeps us down.
That's right, people... get your very own grace central desk top wallpaper at gracecentral.org Choose from three different designs. You can be the envy of all your coworkers.
Then, having created in them a sense of envy and in yourself a sense of superiority, you can all come to church Sunday night to repent of your sins. See how that works?
Thanks to Dan Fox for these funky designs. He's the man... but not the variety that keeps us down.
Funky P, why so many Sunday night posts?
I have trouble sleeping after I preach. Sermons leave me completely depleted. Physically, emotionally, spiritually... I got nothin' left. You'd think sleep would come easy. Nope.
Also, I regret to say that I think the recording got messed up so there may not be a new sermon to post on the grace central website this week. Maybe I'll find an older one to post in it's place.
Next week I've got GA in Chattanooga. Then a funeral in Michigan. Lot's of driving.
Driving makes me sleepy. Maybe I should think about driving.
The house is finally cooling down. It was hot in here today.
Charity and Zack sang a Gillian Welch cover during the collection of the offering tonight. I'm sorry, but Grace Central is the coolest stinkin' church ever. And I'm not just saying that 'cause I pastor there. I mean, come on. Gillian Welch? For the offeratory?! And Joe even played the banjo. They sounded great.
What should I listen to on the ipod to help induce sleep? Hmmm. I'm thinking either Mazzy Star (So that tonight I might see) or My Bloddy Valentine (Loveless) or Damien Rice (O)? Tough Call. Ooh, Ooh, Ooh! Sigur Ros! Dilemma solved.
good night.
Also, I regret to say that I think the recording got messed up so there may not be a new sermon to post on the grace central website this week. Maybe I'll find an older one to post in it's place.
Next week I've got GA in Chattanooga. Then a funeral in Michigan. Lot's of driving.
Driving makes me sleepy. Maybe I should think about driving.
The house is finally cooling down. It was hot in here today.
Charity and Zack sang a Gillian Welch cover during the collection of the offering tonight. I'm sorry, but Grace Central is the coolest stinkin' church ever. And I'm not just saying that 'cause I pastor there. I mean, come on. Gillian Welch? For the offeratory?! And Joe even played the banjo. They sounded great.
What should I listen to on the ipod to help induce sleep? Hmmm. I'm thinking either Mazzy Star (So that tonight I might see) or My Bloddy Valentine (Loveless) or Damien Rice (O)? Tough Call. Ooh, Ooh, Ooh! Sigur Ros! Dilemma solved.
good night.
5.6.05
Hilarity from Credenda Agenda
If I were a late night DJ and this were a radio station instead of a blog, I'd say "I'm sending this one out to KD in the NYC. I hope you're keepin' it real, my man." And then I'd drop the needle. Instead, I'll click "publish".
We would be postmodern, if we could only get the Leotard to fit. We would embrace the Permanent Possibility of Misconception, except it took us too long to find him, and when we did, he was picking his nose.
The truth is, the big sign outside the community center said, "Postmodern Emerging Church: All Welcome." But they didn't mean it. We couldn't even make it up the sidewalk. The guys out front remembered us from T-ball. And they saw the squirt guns.
Nobody wants to keep score in T-ball. And the guidance official behind the plate let some of the kids round the bases backward, or stay on base when they insisted that out was a narrow concept of being. So we did things. Things our mother made us say sorry for. But we didn't mean it. We still don't. Now they're accusing us of not taking the Leotard seriously, and we're not sure how they guessed.
We would be postmodern, if we could only get the Leotard to fit. We would embrace the Permanent Possibility of Misconception, except it took us too long to find him, and when we did, he was picking his nose.
The truth is, the big sign outside the community center said, "Postmodern Emerging Church: All Welcome." But they didn't mean it. We couldn't even make it up the sidewalk. The guys out front remembered us from T-ball. And they saw the squirt guns.
Nobody wants to keep score in T-ball. And the guidance official behind the plate let some of the kids round the bases backward, or stay on base when they insisted that out was a narrow concept of being. So we did things. Things our mother made us say sorry for. But we didn't mean it. We still don't. Now they're accusing us of not taking the Leotard seriously, and we're not sure how they guessed.
FP's June EMusic Downloads
Spoon
Gimme Fiction
M. Ward
Transistor Radio
Pedro the Lion
It's Hard to Find a Friend
Leave a comment for Fred.
Fred is serving as a chaplin in Iraq. Post a comment here to encourage him. He reads Funky Presbyterian. (Look, I know we're at war, but the man still has his priorities!)
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